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epitome of incomprehensibility
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At the Arden community centre this morning. I was there for tai chi last year, too, and had met some of the people before.
I can't say I was measurably less clumsy this time - I'm not great at choreography - but at least I was able to follow the pushing-air motion. More pushing air! Air is easy to push. Plus, the swimming-type motions were nice and calming. There was no music. We followed a specific sequence of fluid poses. Sometimes the leader, as a reminder, called out the name of a particular move - like a quiet sort of square dancing.
I didn't follow their warm-up, though, since I hadn't yet finished my physio exercises for the kneecap strain thingy. At first, I was a little embarrassed about doing them in the gym, about being the odd one out, but Aunt Sarah solved this in an Aunt Sarah way. She announced in a loud voice to the other ten people, "This is my niece Kirsten from the Montreal area and she will join us after she does some physio exercises for her knee."
So that worked out! And we had coffee after. Good coffee, not like that drizzle drivel dishwater I had back in the West Island for I-forget-what event.
But you don't look free coffee in the mouth. You use your mouth to talk a little and your ears to listen. The person to my right was Irene. You can eat hosta leaves, especially when they're small. A hush: news that someone's neighbour had died. And an injunction to me to keep taking care of my knees: "You'll be thankful for it when you're my age" (Katie, 90 but she doesn't look it). Oldest to youngest.
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