Sunday, May 30, 2010
It started with uni. The German department was forever running 'German ceilidhs'.
Then when I lived in Germany I remember one bizarre evening when Gillian, her then fiancé Billy and I ended up in a strange hippy commune teaching a lot of happy, drunk Germans the 'Dashing White Sergeant'.
At my first wedding we had a ceilidh and André happily danced what he thought was called the 'Washing White Surgeon'! We broke tradition by being last to leave - we were just having too much fun to leave any earlier.
Later at Collins in the early days we often found ourselves in Glasgow's Riverside club of a Friday evening ceilidhing some more.
Ceilidhs hold very fond memories for me.
Of course the most famous one was Vivian's 40th birthday party in Hyndland tennis club on 26-7-97. I was happily dancing a 'Strip the Willow' at midnight and by 5am I was in the Queen Mother's hospital in labour with Marcel - after driving three of the other guests home of course as I was the sober designated driver!
Last night Thomas and I went to a birthday party. We had assumed it would be a meal and chatting affair but it turned out to be a ceilidh. I had a whale of a time despite my aching I've-left-Amaia-for-the-first-time-ever-over-full boobs. It's funny how you never forget all the dances and despite being overweight and out of shape from having Amaia, I didn't feel at all sore or out of puff!
I'd love to go to more ceilidhs, though they really aren't the same if you don't know a few other couples to take along. It'd be a great way to keep fit too. I guess it won't be too many years before I can leave the kids the odd weekend evening to strip the willow once more - old hips permitting.