My big toe hurts.


Not really, but I had to have some sort of pain somewhere on my body to keep up with my mom and aunt Spamela (Pam). Mom’s right arm hurts; Pam’s hips are bothering her; I’ve never had a big toe ache this bad in my whole eighteen years!


Tonight we went dancing with my second cousin Donald Earl, who is from McDaniel’s, Kentucky. Not just any kind of dancing…two-stepping.


You see, Donald Earl and his wife Yvonne used to go dancing at this place in Morgantown every Saturday night…it was a tradition, I suppose. He’d dance and she’d watch, and he sheepishly admitted that sometimes the ride home would have an argument about the women he would ask to dance with him. Every week, though, she’d be ready to go back.


Yvonne died two weeks ago, today…


He hadn’t been in about two and a half months, ever since she started getting sick again. I’m not sure why he wanted to go back so quickly–but he did, it was something he loved to do, and I can imagine he needed to get out of his house.


When I arrived home last wednesday, Mom and Pam approached me about going with them tonight, and I thought to myself, why not? I’ve never been two-stepping before, I might like it. Hey, I might even be good at it. I wonder if they’ll teach us how to line dance…which translated outloud to something along the lines of “Heck, yes!”. It was definetely going to be an adventure–whether I wanted it to be or not.


We met down at Pam’s house at about five o’clock this afternoon, for Donald Earl to teach us some steps.  Turns out, the two-step is not nearly as difficult as one would imagine. So, after a quick country-dancing lesson, we piled into the car and headed off for Morgantown, only about thirty-five or so miles away.


It struck me, as we were driving down the former Green River Parkway, how beautiful Kentucky is, and how much I love living here, that is, when I am living here. Looking over the rolling hills, peering into the forests as we drove past wishing I could just run and get lost in them, watching the sun start it’s descent into the horizon…witnessing the transition from one world into the next and we journeyed onto our destination. For, you see, the area we traveled to–it’s like a different world to me. They talk different, their lives are different, their goals are different. It’s really very strange, to see such a huge difference between two areas only thirty miles from one another.


Anyways, we finally arrived at this sort of warehouse, and we went in. Donald Earl payed for us, which I wasn’t expecting and thought to be very nice. As I was speculating what the evening could hold, a piece of paper taped to the cash register caught my eye:


Ticket needed to re-inter dance


Yes, re-inter. I laughed to myself again, I really do love Kentucky.


Well, to make a long story much shorter (because I’m really tired right now) we got in, ate, and at seven o’clock the fun began…


At first I was really shy. That wore off pretty quickly…I was worried at first, because there were no guys there under age sixty, it seemed. But it didn’t really matter. Dad wouldn’t dance, so Pam, Mom and I took turns dancing with Donald Earl. I was waiting for them to start a line dance, because that’s what I was really looking forward to, but they never had one. I did, however, get to Square Dance, my first time ever. It was so great! I had no idea what I was doing, so I just went in the direction I was shoved and I pretty much made it around the circle just fine.


Before the night was over, as well, three random guys asked me to dance with them, guys my age or so, which really made my night, seeing as they had to come all the way to the darkest corner of the building to get to me. We were sort of–well–hiding, I suppose. But you have to understand, I wasn’t expecting anyone at all to ask me to dance with them, so that made my night; even though one was weird and made me two-step to Sweet Home Alabama, and he didn’t really have any rythm, either. Another was so shy he wouldn’t look at me the whole time, but it was a slow song, and he sort of just guided me in a one-step spiral the whole time while I tried not to burst out laughing at the fact that I was starting to get dizzy.


So…that was my evening; if I had more to say, I’ve forgotten it. My big toe hurts too much, I guess. Happy Easter, everyone…may your day be filled with Joy and Happiness! Goodnight.  

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5 thoughts on “

  1. Awwwww! My paternal grandparents are from a TEEENY little place called Clay City, Ky. And I go when I can afford it to Lexington and or Louisville for horse shows, and drive through where they lived, though all of it is gone now, except the side of the mountain they lived on. It IS gorgeous country, and it DOES change very much within just a few miles in places…
    Sounds like a great thing you did, I’m sure it made Donald Earl happy. Hope the toes get better soon.
    Happy Easter to you!

  2. LOL- “re-inter”!? That really reminds me of my hometown…I don’t live there anymore, but I grew up in this teeny town called Norco in southern CA…we have a “real” old west saloon complete with swingin’ doors, horses/livestock in every yard, and the ONLY kind of dancing there is requires cowboy boots! Thanks for the good story

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