It was such a beautiful Saturday morning in the quiet town of Arcata. . . where time stands still and the town inhabitants reflect the culture and dress of the late 1960's. Their Saturday markets are one of the best and the products sold are unique and appropriate for this area of northern California.
Sister is mortified. "You wouldn't!"
Then, over the loud speaker, they are inviting the public to participate. I look at sister and grin. . . "Come on! They're calling for us! " I pat my belly and tell her I can put my dangling ear ring on my belly button.
"Lori! You wouldn't! You can't! I won't watch! You are kidding me!"
"Lori! You wouldn't! You can't! I won't watch! You are kidding me!"
Dear sister is so easy to goof with. As if I would ever dance around in public with my lop belly exposed and sport bra on. I need the gauzy, flowy skirts and bedazzled bra with foreign coinage adorning it before I start my belly wobble. We passed the dancers, watching them for a bit. As we walked away, I did a little hip wiggle, saying "ting" to simulate the finger cymbals. Sister ran away. . I'm.a little hurt that even in her mind she was horrified. I video'd some of the dance. I want to get the moves down for the next time. And I'm going to be wearing my belly dancer outfit under my clothes so I'll blend in better. "Ting" "Ting".
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