For days, I couldn't keep this hoop UP on my waist. I wish I had a nickle for every time I dropped it. (Okay, a dollar.)But now, I've got it, and I'm hooping every day. Things I've learned: I need to wear good shoes. I'm not a barefoot hooper. Yet. I wear my Keen's -- the same shoes I wear when I walk.
Also, I hoop to the left better than I hoop to the right. So I'm working on my right hooping, because I need to know how to do both, in order to graduate to the kind of hooping I want to do. Here's an example of that. I don't need to be as graceful and good as Beth Lavinder, but I truly do want to enjoy this art.
There are scads of hooping tutorials online. I like these best.
I sweat when I hoop. It's great exercise. No one has to watch me, and no one would want to -- ha! But you know what? I feel so good doing it, and the effect lasts long after it's done.
I'm listening to the beginnings of a playlist for the next book -- 1966. So, I'm hooping to Satisfaction, Red Rubber Ball, Devil with the Blue Dress On, Hanky Panky, Summer in the City, We Can Work it Out, Secret Agent Man, and more.
I'm inspired to get back to the page. This week, I'm pulling out the draft of the 1966 novel -- the working title is Hang The Moon. I'll hoop and write. And walk. And we'll see what happens.
It's a good thing I've taken up The Movement Project. As long as I'm moving, I can take part in our Sunday Suppers around here. Last night:
That's homemade chocolate made with a Paul Newman's dark chocolate bar and some Dagoba chips I had left in the pantry. Some heavy cream and some whole milk. A couple of eggs. Sugar. Mix and freeze in the new ice cream maker.I'm heading back into this sort of territory -- some from here, some from there -- with the new novel, creating something entirely new from whole cloth. Circling, circling.
