Rain Dances?

Anyone know any rain dances? Come and dance them here, please do; Granny will happily help you make a costume, even if she doesn't take part. She doesn't think she does rain dances. The weather is lovely; that's good. What isn't so good is that the dust in the air is giving her dreadful hayfever- she has to keep stopping here to sneeze; and that the fleas seem to like the sun too, they persist, despite Granny following useful advice offered by kind internet friends. This morning one flea was hopping about in her BED. The bedding is now being washed. AGAIN.

This week sees the arrival of nice but rather ponderous German friend of Beloved's: Granny foresees several days of Beloved and ponderous German talking science at each other while she does the washing-up. Heigh-ho. The one free night will be the night she and Beloved abandon the guest to go to a charity dinner-dance; not exactly Beloved's entertainment of choice, though Granny herself doesn't mind a bit of dancing, so long as it is not with Beloved; if he can be got on the floor, he is inclined to get over-enthusiastic: he JIVES, in other words. Granny who falls over her feet in such circumstances doesn't jive: especially, she doesn't jive with Beloved: he is not tolerant of her multiple left feet. She does like jigging about, on the other hand, she really likes jigging about, even, as likely here, alongside a lot of distressingly naked, mostly perma-tanned, mostly rather withered flesh. If male expats tend to perma-tanned paunches, the female version tends to perma-tanned withered cleavages, along with blond rinses, along with a lot of glitter. Granny is not among them; she no longer has a cleavage to display, even if she wanted to; any colour on her hair is a discreet version of her natural brownish.

Her friend Mrs Jonah, too, covers up her ageing flesh. But she, unlike Granny - because of her openly suffering Beloved, Granny is permitted to sneak out early - is forced to stay to the bitter end: to the raffle draws, to the auctions of twenty-foot high pink teddy-bears: Mr Jonah is a politician these days and likes to be seen dispensing his largesse; all in a good cause here, admittedly, bringing water to waterless Peruvians. Granny has no quarrel with bringing water to waterless Peruvians. This a very good work indeed, set in motion by two lovely people who happen to live on this island. Her only good work is dragging Beloved along to these events, not always the easiest of options.

On the other hand could the dancing providers of water for Peru be persuaded to throw in a rain-dance or two for Lanzarote? The addition of the odd feather to the existing glitter might do it: the feet of the paunchy ones could serve for a thudding percussion;

Granny likes the thought of that.

Back to real work now.