I want a blog

B has been peering over my shoulder. He wants to know what a blog is. I mumble on a bit and he says

'So, Mummy, it's the story of your life, isn't it?'

'Ah, well, yes I suppose it is'

'I want a blog'

'What?' I exclaim, this from B who does not have two words to rub together, what could he possibly have to say?

At this point his father intervenes and points out that before B can write to the world on his own personal blog, he had better get practising writing with a p-e-n and reading a b-o-o-k, so B is temporarily beaten back, telling me over his shoulder as he is dragged off not to use any rude words on my blog or he will be prevented from accessing it by his parental control filter.

Dancing, thinking...dancing

Why am I warbling on about dancing, what is the point unless you are a fan or a practitioner?

Because it is a dancing lesson, and it could be applied to other situations in life. The next time you meet someone who offers to lead you, imagine that you agree to be lead. You avoid being floppy and useless, you avoid becoming over-eager to please, anticipating, offering your own judgements and solutions and worrying about your performance. You find that place in between which is just right, you give your full attention, you are present, you offer unbiased but firm resistance, to see if the leading really works. You are just lead. I wonder what the result would be? I'm going out there, and will report back from the field.
I've always had trouble with finding this place in between. In Britain we play 'more courteous than thou' games and very nice it is too. In the Paris region, no such niceties exist, and I am continually offending, outraged and indignant. I think I need to stop anticipating others and trying to get out of their way. I think I need to just go, like the French.
Recently R taught me the following lesson:

R tends to charge off and canon into people, leaving me to apologize to the flustered, trampled, and knocked-aside in his trail.

'R' I said after one particularly nasty bout when he wanted to reach the school gates before his best friend, 'You are old enough now to pay attention to where you are going, to notice people coming towards you , and to stand aside graciously rather than careering into them at full speed.'

'I know I know' says R 'But if I move out of the way they move out of the way too and we still crash. And anyway why should I always be the one to move out of the way?' He's so logical.

We enjoyed the snow

Hoar frost at Ashridge, sent in by my mother.

R's snowman. He did rush in grab a carrot and two acorns for the face, but as he inserted them the face split in two and fell to the ground. He did not despair. He rebuilt the head and improvised with some cast-off winter clothing instead. As Jenny says, it's not the size that counts...

R&B's friends M&I take full advantage in urban Gelsenkirchen, sent in by Jenny.