I rocked around the clock in my jitterbug days
THE last weekend of September was special: a surprise party for grandson James and his lovely fiancee. Well, when I say surprise party it was not a surprise for the guests or they would not have been there. But it was definitely a surprise for the happy couple, and was organised by their terrific friends.
Due to my recent accident I ventured on to the dance floor only once – for a Frank Sinatra slow song.
Sitting out watching the younger ones gyrate brought back memories of my mum.
As she got older and came to family occasions she always said how much she enjoyed sitting back and watching the young ones – like George and I then – enjoying themselves on the dance floor.
It would be true to say that nowadays Derek and I are probably the oldest swingers in town when we go to these parties.
But we are so grateful to be included.
It is also true to say I do not really do the light fantastic any longer, while dear Derek dances like one foot is nailed to the floor.
I suppose the 1950s, after I married my first husband George and before we started our family, were my dancing years.
When George and I were courting we did our fair share of jitterbugging.
But after going to dancing classes we considered ourselves fairly proficient on the dance floor.
The best part of going dancing was the getting ready – make-up and a spray of perfume – and the oh-so-feminine dresses.
My favourite outfit was a bouffant petticoat under a very full black skirt, and a white lace blouse with a little black bow at the neckline, plus high-heeled shoes.
I smiled when I realised the DJ does not announce the last waltz any more but still the evening ends in the same romantic fashion with loving couples entwined.
I have confessed before that the Swinging Sixties passed us by. But when you have two lovely children to bring up on one man's wages it would be difficult to swing.
And while we are on the subject of celebrations, a group of us recently attended a glorious 50 lunch in Christ The Servant church hall.
It was one of a series of lunches being held in preparation of our church's 50th anniversary next year.
Derek and I married in Christ The Servant Church in January 2001. The Reverend Gwyn Owen, now the Reverend Canon Gwyn Owen, Rural Dean, took up his office there not long after.
Derek and I watched him proudly on Christmas morning as he preached at Bristol Cathedral.
Gwyn, as I am allowed to call him, has had, over the last 12 years, a tremendous effect on my life.
His love and compassion for me and my family have been amazing.
Our question at the lunch was how would we like to see our church in Stockwood develop over the coming years?
When Gwyn is preaching he takes us out of our cosy comfort zone and sends us home with plenty to think about.
See you next week.