http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/en-EUhttp://backend.userland.com/rss092http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/http://data5.blog.de/design/preview/d5/cfcefd13f16fe79e3da965738f08fc_160x200.jpg <p>"There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast."<img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/090twisted.gif" border="0" alt="" width="15" height="15"></p> <p>There is only so much drama one can get into a 1,000 word picture book story.  I wrote about a small boy who falls madly in love with a battered stray who wanders into his garden, then goes missing.  He, the cat, is found again, but my agent thinks the story needs more tension - but love must be established before anxiety at its loss can be described - but that's publisher; ; they want it all & at the least cost to them.  Ah, well, it's a business like any other.</p> <p>Little Tiger sent me a questionaire that runs to 3 pages; I shall answer none of them except  my name and telephone number.  I will send a photo - also reguested.  I think it damned impertinent of them to want to know so much.  But perhaps it's just frustration that I can't say 'Yes' to the ocassional book signing.  At the moment the nearest town seems like a 'planet far,far away. . .' </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/07/27/at_last~2709456/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/07/27/at_last~2709456/Fri, 27 Jul 2007 09:08:23 +0200 <p><img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/090twisted.gif" border="0" alt="" width="15" height="15"> <ul> <li class="MsoNormal"><span>Do not meddle in the affairs of cats, for they are subtle and will urinate on your computer. </span><br><strong>I don't know who said that but it's true. Mine throws fur-balls in strange, undetectable places; the best, to date, was a bowl of pot pourri.  I use the word Best as from her point of view.  </strong></li> <li class="MsoNormal"><strong>But enough of my cat.  My friends are not acting in the way that imagined they would. The sufferers are recovered, thankfully, but the one who recieved death threats has gone home to mother after reporting the threats to the police.  As the threats were not made, as I originally thought, by the ex-husband, but by a drunken friend, while the ex and his new girl friend giggled and tried to disuade the caller in the background, I thought the whole course of action was a bit extreme. What was even more over the top was the fact that she sent a text  telling all the facts to her fourteen year old daughter, who, the day before, began a  three week European tour with the Youth Philharmonic.  That must have reassured the daughter a lot.</strong></li> <li class="MsoNormal"><strong>The friend who suffered an unexpected split in his marriage emailed me to say that he had joined an online dating agency and had already met two people.  'It's like getting back on a horse after a fall' he wrote -but as an ex-rider, and one who never fell off, I not so sure it's the same.  A bit like people who have never written a book but who say that writing a novel's like giving birth.  As one who has experienced both novel writing & childbirth, I feel I can say that it is not.</strong></li> <li class="MsoNormal"><strong>But what do I know</strong></li> </ul> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/07/02/friends_again~2557320/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/07/02/friends_again~2557320/Mon, 02 Jul 2007 11:16:29 +0200 <p><strong>All my friends - well, four of them anyway - seem to be having rough times.  I sit here, feeling sorry for myself & thinking what a great time everyone else is having & then discover that they are in the midst of all kinds of trouble.  One had an operation for gall stones & did well until she took the perscribed codeine; I  won't repeat the details, listening once was enough.  Another received death threats from her divorced husband when she applied to the court of payment of back child-support; one ate ice cream in Spain and was extremely ill for a week,and one was presented by an irreparable split in what he imagined to be a happy marriage.  I feel chastened.<br>One the other hand, an old boy friend, now on the other side of the world, rang me up for a chat.  He quite often does this.  It's cheering and flattering.<br><span>My other cat is a Jaguar.  <img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/090twisted.gif" border="0" alt="" width="15" height="15"></span></strong> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/07/01/friends~2551885/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/07/01/friends~2551885/Sun, 01 Jul 2007 12:51:19 +0200 <p><img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/05biggrin.gif" border="0" alt="" width="15" height="15">I have been asked to do a publicty tour - of a kind - to rouse interest in my latest book.  It's a picture book and the artitst is wonderful!  I stuck  to my original brief, which was to make the story as factual as possible, but the commissioning editor was new to the post, and wanted,I think, to make a good impression with her first book. It went through <em>nine</em> re-writes and from fact to fantasy - and then back to my original version; to my great relief. I was beginning to think that I'd lost my touch. But I really must practise my walking - the customers of W,H.Smith wouldn't be impressed by an author who gives the impression of a drunken duchess.<br><img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/09evil.gif" border="0" alt="" width="15" height="15">My cat sits sulking on the wall - all is as usual </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/30/new_story~2545576/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/30/new_story~2545576/Sat, 30 Jun 2007 07:00:29 +0200 <p><span>"Dogs believe they are human. Cats believe they are God."<br></span><strong><span><em>- Unknown<br></em>I love the above quote- whoever wrote it certainly knew cats. Mine sits on the wall, waiting for breakfast & occasionally throwing me a withering look.  I send one back but I'm not sure she receives it; if she does, she ignores it.  <br>It's seven-thirty on a bright sunny morning and after a few hectic days I've decided that this will be a day of play.  Having made this resolution I immediately think of at least six things I <em><u>must</u></em> do.  Books lie around, wating to be culled for the charity shop, clothes lie around waiting to be taken upstairs - the latter not a big job but as my balance is still not right I cling to two bannister railings when mounting the stairs, & in the case of taking clothes back in bulk, drag a  full plastic bin liner behind me.<br>A nautical friend devised a method of taking a full bag upstairs by a complicated method that invovled a washing line - it was brilliant; one stood on the landing and just hauled away - singing the ocassional shanty.   Unfortunetely, he left in a huff and took his nautical line with him.  I have never been able to remember how it was done. Ah, me. . .</span></strong></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/20/another_day~2484899/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/20/another_day~2484899/Wed, 20 Jun 2007 07:45:26 +0200 <p><strong>Being offline is a little like being cast on a desert island; I told myself that there was lots to do, like finishing a story - but I still felt bereft.  Now I have begun another tale and feel  a bit guilty about it.  It's the first time I've ever based a story on something even remotely connected to what has happened personally and find that I am really enjoying writing it.  Well, I love writing anyway but this is something extra.  Revenge?  I have a sneaking suspicion that it might be, and revenge is something we are not supposed to seek, are we?  </strong> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/17/absence~2469603/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/17/absence~2469603/Sun, 17 Jun 2007 17:49:04 +0200 <p><strong>I took my new small laptop to bed, along with my morning coffee.  It, the laptop, immediately said that its battery was dangerously low.  I brought its cable up and connected it to the mains, whereupon it hid every icon and subtituted an hour glass.  I waited patiently, I read a little, I sorted out some more things for the charity shop - the hour glass icon persisted.  I brought everything down, replugged, & at once it showed me everything it could do.  I no longer care. Even the flip-round screen that allows one to write notes with a special pen then turn them into a computer file if one wishes can't invite my enthusiasm at the moment.<br>It's warm & will become wqarmer, so my forecast says.  My cat sits on the wall, waiting for breaakfast.  I drink more coffee</strong></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/09/little_sod~2420609/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/09/little_sod~2420609/Sat, 09 Jun 2007 08:21:33 +0200 <p><strong>Tired of smiling  to make myself and others feel better I decided to be bitchy, which led my thoughts to Eartha Kitt's wonderful song 'I want to be evil, I want to spit tacks.'  Just thinking about it made me feel better, and full of smiles<img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/05biggrin.gif" border="0" alt="" width="15" height="15">. See?</p> <p>But it also made me recall 'Archie & Mehitabel.'  How could I have forgotten <em>that,</em>Archie the cockroach, who uses his bosses typewriter at night {all but the punctuation keys, which he can't manage, and Mehitabel, the stray alley cat, played on stage by Eartha Kitt.  Mehitabel's motto was mine - and still is.<br>'It's cheerio my deario what sees a lady through!'</strong> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/08/bitch~2414589/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/08/bitch~2414589/Fri, 08 Jun 2007 06:20:46 +0200 <p><strong>Just out of curiousity I registered with a website devoted to those us us who needed a little help - stroke victims, MS & the like.  The stories were horrific.  And the writers were often so brave, making light of the most horrendous tales.  They made my story seem like child's play - so what if I now have only two styles of walking  - A duchess who's been too much to the gin bottle {that is, upright & very regal, but only to keep myself from falling over} & a mad Balinese type, with wild ,eccentric gestures.  Well, most of the inhabitants of the village think me mad anyway; for a start, I don't have a proper job - I write & that's not like going out to work everyday at 7 a.m & returning at 6 p.m. is it?  I've lost count of the people who've told me 'I intend to write a children's book one day, but I haven't time right now.'  <br>But my friend Anne, a writer like me, but of crime novels, tells me that some victims - & by that I mean anyone in a distressing situation - complain constantly about their lot & this is ultimately unattractive - sad but true.  Friends rally round but are driven away by the constant moans.  So I shall try to keep up my saintly forbearance & smile in the face of adversity.<br>Or is that going a bit too far?</strong> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/04/child_s_play~2391064/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/04/child_s_play~2391064/Mon, 04 Jun 2007 09:21:25 +0200 <p>Well, Jonathan Cainer, in whom I have a sceptical but deep-seated belief, says that my situation will only improve if I continue to be brave and control my own destiny.  This came as something as a suprise as I did not realize that I <em>was</em> being brave; I thought I'd been struggling along in my usual haphazard manner.  But according to Jonathan, no cavalry will ride to my rescue, nor will a shining knight appear by my side.  Well, at my age I'd not expected a knight - or the cavalry either.<br>Come to think of it, sceptical and deep-seated cancel each other out, don't they? - but at my age one can be irrational. . .unless of course the irrationality is thought to be the first intimations of Alzheimer's.<br>Oh, bugger - I think I might just swallow a mouse and have done with it </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/03/destiny~2384330/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/06/03/destiny~2384330/Sun, 03 Jun 2007 08:45:59 +0200 <p>It's been one of those night when it's hard to tell dreams from reality.  You half-wake & wonder 'Did that really happen?' then go back to sleep again before a decision is made.  The kind of dreams that have waking effects that it's hard to shake off - still, it's not yet seven a.m & I haven't even drunk my first coffee yet.  I trust the caffeine will do the trick.  I have one of my Pooh mugs full - Piglet,  actually - & they are as big as two large cups, easily.</p> <p>The entry I made yesterday seems to have disappeared - perhaps it's as well; it was mostly about mice and medieval recipes which contained them.  It began with my stating that Flora, my cat, preferred asparagus to mice then receiving a comment from Kevin to say that this was asparagus undoubtedly tasted better - a comment I could not quarrel with.  But I  felt sure I'd seen mouse-recipes, dated 1200 or there abouts. . . but try as I might, they elude me.  I shall browse the 'Net again. . . but is this a normal way for a mature woman to spend her time? </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/31/dreams~2365143/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/31/dreams~2365143/Thu, 31 May 2007 07:03:36 +0200 <p><strong>It  goes to show just how ignorant one can be; I thought Fortalice was two words, the whole association  started by a woman called Alice, possibly she herself a victim of violence.  But it seems it is one word from the latin, meaning a small fort.  Well, whatever it, is my grandaughter and her girls are safe there, & my own daughter feels better knowing they are all protected.  So I feel better too.<br>A brighter note and an addition to my cat theory: Flora hates fish but loves asparagus.  How did she develop a taste for asparagus?  Don't ask.</strong> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/28/ignorance~2347193/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/28/ignorance~2347193/Mon, 28 May 2007 11:06:56 +0200 <p> I have evolved a whole new theory about cats - they are not the gentle, soothing creatures we are taught to believe they are, but furry tyrants. Mine sits by my side at the moment. The first quote, by the way, in case you don't know, is by Douglas Adams.<br> I was grounded for a time by a faulty gall bladder, which was no fun but my own fault. It has been wonky for years but has behaved since '97 so I shouldn't grumble. But I do.<br> My grandaughter has split from her violent husband after 12 years of beatings. For Alice are sheltering her in their commune, along with the two girls, Charlotte & Olivia. All three love it. It has a high-walled garden with tame squirrels and brilliant staff. Little wonder that my daughter, Jenny has a recurring upset tummy and my gall bladder joined in the fun. But things seem calmer now.<br> The Douglas Adam quote was refused for reason I didn't understand. It was at the beginnng of this entry & read:<br> “The Answer to the Great Question Of.....Life, the Universe and Everything.....(is) Forty-two.”<br> I am very pleased to know this</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/27/cats_aamp_gall_bladders~2340928/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/27/cats_aamp_gall_bladders~2340928/Sun, 27 May 2007 08:04:31 +0200 <p>The best advice I can give any of you, should you - heaven forbid - have a bleed in the brain, is, Do Not Get A Cat.  That is the hint.  Cats are not the self-reliant, aloof creatures they are portrayed as being.  <br>The question is this:  why, no matter how you place an item in a microwave, it it has a handle the microwave will stop with the handle facing towards the back of the oven.  Perhaps it's a law of nature, like the phone always ringing when you're in the bathroom, even if it's been silent all day. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/20/a_tip_and_a_question~2300982/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/20/a_tip_and_a_question~2300982/Sun, 20 May 2007 10:14:26 +0200 Balanced & Fruity <p>Not a description of me, unfortunately, but of my coffee; or so the label says.  Well, I do feel better balanced, at least mentally, than I did a day or two ago.   But I left the oven on after cooking haddock in a light cheese sauce.  All night the faint odour of fish drifted through the house.  I now sit with my laptop on my knee, still in my dressing gown, the kitchen door open and my lovely, wet yard in view.  I call it 'lovely' for it is tidy &  clean for the first time since my illness.  I have no garden, as such, but lots of plants in containers.  As soon as I figure out how to put photos in this blog I will do so.  I don't hold much hope though; I had no success in upgrading, even though I'd lots of help from Kevinwilson.  Thanks Kevin - you don't deserve such a dim friend.<br>More later, perhaps.  For now I enjoy my pooh mug full of coffee. </p> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/13/balanced_aamp_fruity~2263079" title="Permanent link to full entry" class="permalink_right">Permalink</a> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/14/balanced_aamp_fruity~2266495/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/14/balanced_aamp_fruity~2266495/Mon, 14 May 2007 10:26:28 +0200 <p><a href="http://www.relieve-migraine-headache.com/migraine-and-aura.htm"><a href="http://www.relieve-migraine-headache.com/migraine-and-aura.htm">http://www.relieve-migraine-headache.com/migraine-and-aura.htm</a></a><br>The bleed left me, along with a damaged sense of balance, with Silent Migraines.  My friend Janet, a migraine sufferer, told me about them.  Until she put me wise I thought the golden flashing lights were the precursor of another bleed; I always associated migraines with bad headaches.  Not so - one can have them without the headache but with all the other symptoms. Well,I am thankful not to have the headache, but this latest bout was the worst ever - lights as bright as a fireworks display & a feeling of malaise that is only just wearing off.  <br>On the bright side, I did find the best website I've ever read when once I was able to look at the computer screen.  I realise that I'm far from being the only migraine sufferer who blogs, but I put the web address at the top of this entry for anyone who's interested.<br>I think this latest bout was brought on by the combination of the stress of my granddaughhter's divorce from a violent man - it has, of course, affected the whole family, but we think that the end is in sight. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/12/return_to_blogging~2256826/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/12/return_to_blogging~2256826/Sat, 12 May 2007 13:57:44 +0200 <p>Well, it seems that no one but me uses a fancy font; but I admit to my addiction.  When I was quite small my grandfather & my father set up a small press in our front room and that's were my love started.</p> <p>It's bank holiday & I  find that rather depressing; the weather is always bad, at least it is where I live, & as the news, both TV & on the 'Net,  speak of grid-locks & crowded roads, we never go anywhere - well, we never went anywhere when my husband was alive.  I contemplate potting some plants, but think that really to disappear into the worlds of either Barbara Pym or Alexander Mcacll Smith is my best bet.  </p> <p> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/07/bank_holiday~2225221/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/07/bank_holiday~2225221/Mon, 07 May 2007 11:29:29 +0200 <p><span>My friend informs me that he has read in a learned journal that the brain can't distinguish between imagination and reality.  I already knew this -this is why the maxim &lsquo;Where the mind leads, the body will follow&rsquo; works so well &ndash; at least I keep repeating it to myself in an attempt to fool my body into thinking that I am as stable, physically, as I ever was.<span>   </span>How stable I was mentally is open to question.<span>   </span>A teacher once told me that I would get nowhere in this life because I was butterfly &ndash;minded; she said nothing of the life to come.<span>  </span>Perhaps she didn&rsquo;t feel qualified to speak of the next one.<span>  </span>But who is?<br>I write ths entry on the desk computer, which is situated in the front room of my house.  It's cold, having no heating in it at the moment.  I much prefer my laptop, which is in the back room & where I can write, email and make entries in this blog while curled  warmly on the sofa.</p> <p>Typical British Bank Holiday weather - chilly, windy.  The street is quiet, even  the ice cream vans have given up; both played their respective tunes at double-quick time - The Bells of St. Mary's & Girls & Boys Come Out To Play, and then left the village.  The Bells of St. Mary's played at high speed souinds really odd</span> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/06/title~2220653/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/06/title~2220653/Sun, 06 May 2007 16:08:01 +0200 <p>A friend whom I've never met & who lives in America asked me for a description of my family.  Having just bought a digital camera to replace my old Pentax, & having yet to learn how to use it & put my photos online, I began by trying to paint word pictures of each one.  It didn't work of course.  How verbose can one get?  Here is what I finally sent:<br> <br>They are wonderful, exasperating,  hard-working, amusing, worrying,  witty, wayward, empathetic, &  unfeeling, generous, self-centred & wonderful.</p> <p>My family consists of one daughter, Jenny, her husband Ray, Gillian, Lewis, Charlotte & Olivia -the last four all grandchildren. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/04/title~2207593/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/04/title~2207593/Fri, 04 May 2007 08:52:19 +0200 <p>A blog is meant to be fun but I still find it totally<br>confusing.  Perhaps more brain cell were damaged by the bleed than I first thought - I manage to shower & feed myself{ & the cat} & yesterday I hung out washing on a line; something I haven't done since I left hospital.  It confused the birds but delighted me.<br>But, how to upgrade?  How to send comments?  Sometimes I can & sometimes I can't. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/03/help~2201348/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/03/help~2201348/Thu, 03 May 2007 09:20:35 +0200 <p>The early morning sun shines on my neighbour's window and dazzles me through my opened kitchen door.  I feel I could write a witty haiku about second-hand sunshine. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/02/an_incipient_haiku~2194610/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/02/an_incipient_haiku~2194610/Wed, 02 May 2007 08:09:25 +0200 <p>I was going to do such a lot yesterday. I made a list in my head; by far the best place to make one; no one finds it & cries 'Aha! ' in derisive tones,' So you were to have listened to at least some of your 'Teach Yourself Exel' caught up on your neglected Italian lessons,  begun the sweater you bought the wool for. . .'etc.<br>The commom sense part of my brain, or what's left of it after I killed I don't know how many cells by bleeding on them {well, no one told <em><u>me</u> </em>that this wasn't a good idea} tells me that there are two choices open to me - either fulfil the list or shut up about it.  I'll decide later. . . </p> <p> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/01/tuesday_morning_aamp_broken_promises~2188872/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/05/01/tuesday_morning_aamp_broken_promises~2188872/Tue, 01 May 2007 07:28:17 +0200 <p>Well, I think I do a bit better, but not much.  I tried to reply to all the kind comments but I'm not sure which of my replies got through.  One did, I know - Dandelion remarked on how some people thought that blogs were real life.  I can relate to <em>that</em> remark!  I wrote scripts for TV for quite some time & was amazed to learn that many veiwers really thought that the characters in soap operas, etc. were actual people - they sent flowers and letters and advice - the offerings were endless.  It was surprising & sad.<br>I understand it more now, since having the bleed to the brain - my life is somewhat depleted.  But I'm getting there,as they say.  My grandmother used to say "We'll get there if we don't get in.," & even as a small child I did wonder what was the point of getting there if we didn't get in?  I was that kind of child.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/04/29/still_bewildered~2179526/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/04/29/still_bewildered~2179526/Sun, 29 Apr 2007 12:46:50 +0200 <p>Why not try a blog! said my magazine, so I thought, why not?  If I'd any sense I would have remembered that the same magazine asked Why not try abseiling, a holiday in Tibet, keeping a yak as a pet - all right, the last suggestion was a lie, but abseiling & Tibet were not. So, here goes - I live in the north of England, am a professional writer, rode for 17 years, & foolishly bled into my right brain stem some time ago.  I survived more or less intact but my balance is still not right.  I have two styles of walking - one, very upright and regal, like a duchess who's been too often to the gin bottle, and two, like a deranged Balinese dancer.  A friend pointed out that the gestures used by Balinese dancers actually mean something - heaven alone knows what I have said.</p> <p></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/04/28/my_first_entry_possibly_my_last~2174038/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>http://catdancer.blog.co.uk/2007/04/28/my_first_entry_possibly_my_last~2174038/Sat, 28 Apr 2007 08:09:02 +0200