Dirty... and Dancing

Saturday ended up being an interesting day. Karrie and James came out to collect more antique old furniture for their new house (closing this Friday!). James had found a dresser that matches one we have in the guest room, so I emptied it out and in the back of the SUV it went. I guided Karrie and James to Gordonsville and Orange for some thrift and antique shopping. Turns out they don’t really need that much more furniture, so are just looking for things they really like. The Thrift Store is stacked floor to ceiling with furniture – whether it’s one tall piece of furniture or five or six tables. These pieces vary in quality and age, but are all reasonably priced. James and I demanded a stop at Tastee Freez and decided that their vanilla ice cream was better than DQ. Our next stop was an antique mall with different sections owned by different sellers. James was outraged by some of the prices, but picked up a nice end table and a weird metal spice box for Karrie that we all thought was cool looking. The final antique place was a wash and not worth visiting. James was intrigued by the Junk Store (known as Trevillians Variety or something), but Karrie had to work later, so home we went to explore what Joann had to offer.

Joann is my old lady across the street neighbor. She and Rudy, her little long haired – love to lick you to death- dog, keep watch on the neighborhood. I take her treats when I bake and leave them on her front porch to find. She is an avid reader of our blogs via print outs carried across the street by Mom. She had read one of Karrie’s recent blogs about the furniture adventures and suggested that she might have something that Karrie might like.

She led us (me, Karrie, James, and Mom) through her backyard to some out buildings that I did not even know existed. One was open in the front and James and Joann went to look in there. Another was obscured by wild roses and other vines. Karrie and Mom trailblazed a path to the doorway. We tugged on the doors, but because they were hanging crooked and there was a build up of dirt, there was no way to get them open. Mom shoveled enough dirt out of they way with her bare hands to get the doors open further. We got them open enough to slip inside and peer into the gloom. The shed is full of doors, shutters, windows, mantels, and furniture. All of this is covered in layers of dirt and dust, hidden in the shadows, and piled all over the place. We did find the mantels that Karrie had mentioned using as a headboard, but they would have been impossible to get out without removing half of the shed’s contents and digging out the shed doors. We did retrieve a really interesting piece that is an umbrella stand. James and Karrie did get a plant stand, and shelf, and something else from the more open barn. I thought it was really fun to go through the sheds and see what there was. It was kind of like treasure hunting – even with the threat of dangerous wildlife, terrain, and bushwhacking.

We tried to feel Joann out to see if these dusty treasures were fair game, or whether they needed to be paid for, or what, but it was not an easy task. She seems to think that its all worth a lot of money and someone is going to pay for them at some auction she is going to have. She has no emotional attachment to this stuff in the shed, but she wants to sell it for all the money she could get. BUT. No one is going to pay the prices she thinks for the condition that the pieces are in. It would take a lot of work on someone’s part to make them saleable at any price.

We wheeled the few treasures home and Karrie attacked them with the hose to remove some of the grime. The color changes were amazing. James finally got the drawer in the umbrella stand open to revel a monster sized mouse nest. They furniture could still use a scrubbing, but they look much better. Karrie and James left and I realized that I had thirty minutes before I was supposed to leave. Oops.

I headed to the guest room closet to shimmy into some dresses to figure out which one to wear to chaperone the eighth grade formal. Turns out strapless dresses are not allowed at the 8th grade formal, so it’s a good thing I didn’t pick one of those. I jumped in the shower to remove the dirt and grime from my earlier adventures, put on my makeup, dress, and shoes with heels and left. Yes shoes with heels. I own one pair and they are really beat up, but they are very comfortable.

My favorite job when chaperoning dances is to man the door. At the high school, I was actually a bouncer, barring entrance to wayward teens who decided to see if the dress code was serious (it was). For the 8th grade formal, I merely checked in students and oohed and ahhed over their fabulous appearances. They do know how to look good – when they want to.

After check-in was through and most of the kids had shown up, it was time to patrol. Chaperoning this dance was the most boring dance that I have ever chaperoned. Most of the kids did not even dance – maybe even at all. Even the (yes I am going to say it) the black kids didn’t dance that much. They spent most of their time chomping on their gum, texting on their phones, (two things that are normally NOT allowed) running around and talking to each other.

M and S had been telling me for a while they were going to teach me some dance called the ‘Stinky Leg’ (Who comes up with these names and why is this popular?). I had mentioned it earlier in the week and they claimed they would teach me at the formal. And when the song came on, they ran over grabbed me and dragged me (willingly) onto the dance floor to do the Stinky Leg. Apparently I am quite good at it… because it is ridiculously easy. Squat down, throw your back leg in towards a circle and shake your booty. Not hard. Hilarious though – getting down with the 8th graders.

I did dance quite a bit – A lot when you consider that very few other chaperones danced at all. Someone dared a boy to dance with me, but he copped out when I went to claim my dance. I encouraged the dorky kids (some of my favorite students) to get out there and dance the Macarena and some other easy pattern dance that I learned while on the floor (four steps, four steps, four kicks, slow shimmy turn). I danced with some girls and swung them around and looped them. I danced with a loner Asberger’s boy who told the principal he was having a good time but no one would dance with him.

I had a great time dancing – even with 8th graders – and I have been told I made more than a few kids evenings. And it was funny listening to the kids loudly discuss me in the hallway. But it was boring. I only caught one couple kissing. There was no really scandalous dancing to break up. They are middle schoolers I guess, but it was less than I expected. They had a great time and that is all that matters.