I was never a ballet kind of girl, you see. I've always had the kind of shape that makes a house brick look aerodynamic, and all the natural grace of a pebble in a pond. I went for the horse-riding side of girlhood, where being five feet six inches tall meant that I should have ridden horses but having legs that make up a little less than one-eighth of my height meant that I had to ride little tiny ponies, otherwise I looked like a pea on a drum, with the result that, in fact, I looked like I was into equine oppression.
Well today I made the return trip, somewhat against my better judgement. This time it was to see a performance by the Bolshoi ballet, relayed live to our local Arts Centre - yes, all right you cheeky bugger, we have Art here in Yorkshire!
|Art. This is us, having it.|
So. From my electrically heated bed, I raise a HobNob to you all and wish you a very Happy Festive Season - may you get everything you ever wanted, and if you don't, I hope they kept the receipt...