The party we had on Friday made me happy. JJ & Tebone arrived early to help us prepare, and to bring chairs and chips and some terribly addictive guacolmole Tebone had created. S made cheese spread with Greek olives, chipotle peppers, and crushed pine nuts. People brought beer & wine, and we served cheese & crackers, spinach dip, bread, chips & salsa, cookies, and some amazing homemade almond-roca.
By 11 o'clock, when the party really got into full swing, we had about 40 people and 7 guitar cases crammed into our house. We had 5 bellydancers, 2 flamenco dancers, 10 musicians including 1 fiddler, 7 singers, 1 set of finger cymbals, 30 clapping hands, 20 tapping feet, and only 1 spilled beer.
S built a fire in the barbeque pit on the back patio and quite a few people found the late December night agreeable. He used pine logs and the scent of the smoke was delicious and primal. He told about a Celtic tradition regarding fire, how on the day of the Solstice all members of the clan would let the fires in their homes go out, and then that night every one would gather wood and build a big bonfire in the center of the community, and at the night's end each family would take a chunk of burning wood with them for their home fire.
R & Jesi & I danced our trio choreography again, and it was ten times the fun it was the weekend before. We swirled and stepped, shimmied and smiled our whole way through the five minutes of choreographed music. Some folks in the audience smiled but most just stared and that tickled me. I know what we look like but not through someone else's eyes, and that glimpse of audience attention and concentration is the most rewarding thing to see. We had so much fun dropping jaws. There were about the same number of people as last week in the bar, but it was much more intimate. For both the watcher and the dancer there is a big difference between dancing on the cement floor of a bar and dancing for friends in a comfortable living room.
After we finished our dance and changed out of our costumes, Jen & Chayla had us all clap a steady rhythm and did their flamenco stand-off, heels stomping on the hardwood floor, eyes dark, wry sassy smiles on their lips, knees bent. I could almost envision a big black Spanish bull, the skirts, the roses.
Our quiet and shy next-door neighbor who brings his telescope over for us to look at planets and talks softly and learnedly about birds and his recent trips to Tibet and Costa Rica came over to join in the circle of music-making and he sang Guns-n-Roses songs. I would have never guessed. The rest of the music was a wide blend of old blues, old spirituals, old traditional songs like Buffalo Gals and Sally Goodin and a blend of them all. JJ sang some wonderful songs, made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, and we had some great guitarists showing us all a thing or two.
It was cold and drizzly until midnight, but then a balmy warm front moved in and pushed away the clouds and we could see the winter constellations in the black curtain of the sky. Half the party stayed inside and played guitars while the other half went into the backyard and enjoyed the warmer temperature. A Cheshire cat moon grinned above dark branches and Orion drew his bow over the rooftops.
After a while we all made our way back inside. Lovely long-legged JJ & I sat with other girl friends R and H and B on our couch. S told me later he had never seen so many beautiful women on one couch at one party and of course he came and sat next to us and we all flirted with him. He's a good sport and doesn't blush easily. Conversations as always with so many people tend to ebb and flow like water, and I felt washed over, engulfed and floating happily in the sea of voices and acoustic guitars and N's soft lovely butterscotch voice singing about trains being the urban tide that sound like the ocean, sound like home.
Everyone sidled out the door by 3:30 and we were in bed by 4. Saturday dawned with sun on the bare limbs of trees, a blessed relief after weeks of temperatures in the mid-30s and long cold rain. We delighted in the sunshine and picked up the place with the windows and doors open. It was thankfully a very considerate crowd. No brawls, no yelling, and it wasn't until 2:30 that R & I fell into ridiculousness doing our hiney dance. S laughed at us & said we got the giggles in front of God and everybody.
I don't mind.
By 11 o'clock, when the party really got into full swing, we had about 40 people and 7 guitar cases crammed into our house. We had 5 bellydancers, 2 flamenco dancers, 10 musicians including 1 fiddler, 7 singers, 1 set of finger cymbals, 30 clapping hands, 20 tapping feet, and only 1 spilled beer.
S built a fire in the barbeque pit on the back patio and quite a few people found the late December night agreeable. He used pine logs and the scent of the smoke was delicious and primal. He told about a Celtic tradition regarding fire, how on the day of the Solstice all members of the clan would let the fires in their homes go out, and then that night every one would gather wood and build a big bonfire in the center of the community, and at the night's end each family would take a chunk of burning wood with them for their home fire.
R & Jesi & I danced our trio choreography again, and it was ten times the fun it was the weekend before. We swirled and stepped, shimmied and smiled our whole way through the five minutes of choreographed music. Some folks in the audience smiled but most just stared and that tickled me. I know what we look like but not through someone else's eyes, and that glimpse of audience attention and concentration is the most rewarding thing to see. We had so much fun dropping jaws. There were about the same number of people as last week in the bar, but it was much more intimate. For both the watcher and the dancer there is a big difference between dancing on the cement floor of a bar and dancing for friends in a comfortable living room.
After we finished our dance and changed out of our costumes, Jen & Chayla had us all clap a steady rhythm and did their flamenco stand-off, heels stomping on the hardwood floor, eyes dark, wry sassy smiles on their lips, knees bent. I could almost envision a big black Spanish bull, the skirts, the roses.
Our quiet and shy next-door neighbor who brings his telescope over for us to look at planets and talks softly and learnedly about birds and his recent trips to Tibet and Costa Rica came over to join in the circle of music-making and he sang Guns-n-Roses songs. I would have never guessed. The rest of the music was a wide blend of old blues, old spirituals, old traditional songs like Buffalo Gals and Sally Goodin and a blend of them all. JJ sang some wonderful songs, made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, and we had some great guitarists showing us all a thing or two.
It was cold and drizzly until midnight, but then a balmy warm front moved in and pushed away the clouds and we could see the winter constellations in the black curtain of the sky. Half the party stayed inside and played guitars while the other half went into the backyard and enjoyed the warmer temperature. A Cheshire cat moon grinned above dark branches and Orion drew his bow over the rooftops.
After a while we all made our way back inside. Lovely long-legged JJ & I sat with other girl friends R and H and B on our couch. S told me later he had never seen so many beautiful women on one couch at one party and of course he came and sat next to us and we all flirted with him. He's a good sport and doesn't blush easily. Conversations as always with so many people tend to ebb and flow like water, and I felt washed over, engulfed and floating happily in the sea of voices and acoustic guitars and N's soft lovely butterscotch voice singing about trains being the urban tide that sound like the ocean, sound like home.
Everyone sidled out the door by 3:30 and we were in bed by 4. Saturday dawned with sun on the bare limbs of trees, a blessed relief after weeks of temperatures in the mid-30s and long cold rain. We delighted in the sunshine and picked up the place with the windows and doors open. It was thankfully a very considerate crowd. No brawls, no yelling, and it wasn't until 2:30 that R & I fell into ridiculousness doing our hiney dance. S laughed at us & said we got the giggles in front of God and everybody.
I don't mind.
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