There's the teensiest chance that I've got no business exercising with young people. Actually, the ice on my trick ankle is just a precautionary measure. I got all full of myself after executing a halfway successful merengue (or was it a meringue?) and decided to try a new class called The Mixx—a fun and REALLY challenging mix of kickboxing and dancing and jogging and lunging and all kinds of stuff (thank you, Denise and Janet). For the first time in a long time, I am feeling almost as happening as my late Granny—that would be the grandmother who, from a hospital gurney en route to major cancer surgery, grabbed me by the arm and said, "If I live, I want a road trip." That free spirit did indeed live for quite a few years, and we took many road trips. 
Our first one was probably the best: from Birmingham to Key West and back BY CAR. That's what she wanted, and that's what she got. She talked me into perching out on the crow's nest during our glass-bottom boat ride—and later talked the captain of a touristy pirate ship into letting her take the wheel and steer. I bought us both a little polished rock with the word "REMEMBER" printed on it. And I do—every time I push myself into an adventure and have a big ole time doing it, I remember her. I know, without ever having seen her do it, that Granny could merengue like nobody's business.
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Grannys do tend to party hardy, to make the most of everything. She was a wise lady. :)
Posted by: Candy Hicks | May 21, 2015 at 06:55 PM