A rather exciting day, what with one thing and another. On my way to keep fit class, I stopped off at the clothing shop attached to the Senior Cits Centre, and wow! — the recycling gods had saved two garments that must have had my name on them. One is an utterly lovely, brand new, pink jacket: the other, a delightful long red skirt which I bought just in case anyone suddenly decides to hire septuagenarian belly dancers. (If no such gigs are forthcoming, I can wear it out to posh dinners, although there aren't too many of those on my agenda these days, either.) And I paid — you won't believe this — seven dollars for the two garments. Not each, both! The jacket alone would have had a price tag of well over $100 new, I suspect. It was definitely new - the pockets were still stitched, as expensive garments are often sold, and the maker's labels had been carefully cut off. There is a story there, I'm sure!

Keep fit was strenuous, as usual — I rather think that our fit, enthusiastic instructor sometimes forgets that he is coaching a bunch of senior citizens. A quick glance around the gathering suggests that many attendees aren't working to capacity and I can't blame them, but neither can I take leaves from their books. From force of habit I work as hard as I can, with the result that I sometimes have to sideline myself for part of the time. Only the advent of old age has taught me to do that. Old-style ballet training taught one to grit one's teeth and keep going, with no leniency for tiredness, sore muscles, bleeding toes or puddles of sweat on the floor. (No, I ain't joking!)

Then, on the way home, the bus driver had to hit the brakes and horn. I was sitting in an area where the seats face each other, and I had, heaven be thanked, the presence of mind to grab the safety rail to my left with my right hand, with the result that I was thrown and half turned so that I wound up sitting in the (fortunately empty!) seat opposite. The first thing I did was to grab the bag containing my precious new purchases in case they got tipped out onto the floor. (Vanity, thy name is Satima ...)

No, I wasn’t hurt, but I downed two cups of coffee in quick succession once I got home!

(No news on the rebirth of The Talismans yet. Soon, I hope!)