My dance teacher makes sure my dear Eve is not frightened in The Cave.
I used to look forward to my classes; thirty secs of teaching every two months or so. I could take that, it didn't over-burden me and my little old leggies. Only that thirty seconds seems to have plummeted somewhat. Perhaps it's because Ms Smit, for that is her name, disapproves of my 'moves'. I'm not smooth enough, elegant enough or doing the right steps. Apart from that she is very pleased with my dancing, I think.
Ms Smit explains how rock is made.
To be completely honest, Ms Smit doesn't rate me at all and that hurts. I am a sensitive soul under this ragged exterior you know. Maybe I should start learning photography instead !
On that note; I was wondering which direction - if any - this little bloggertte should go. Do you want to read and see what I eat? What I hear? What I think? Or shall I go on as 'normal' - whatever that is!
BTW; I note folks at the Butty Bus has been looking here. Pay them a a visit when you are passing by.
BTW; I note folks at the Butty Bus has been looking here. Pay them a a visit when you are passing by.






































