Margaret thought she’d go into town to the studio, where her friend was holding a Strolling half hour.

‘And what is a Strolling half hour?’ wondered Margaret. Margaret decided that the definition of To Stroll was to walk in a leisurely way. This seemed rather lovely. ‘Me, me’ she said.

Margaret arrived, hot and a tad sweaty, if we can be rude for a moment, as she had hurried one and a half miles, plod plod, not stroll stroll, to the Studio. Margaret’s friend Lyn was there too. ‘Oh Goody,’ thought Margaret, ‘We can go on the back row together.’

Margaret then noticed the ballet mirrors, a whole wall of them. She looked, she saw, she thought: ‘Who is that woman in clothes like mine with the big, no – enormous bum?’

My friends, Margaret was the proud owner of that bum, she  realised. Her day was ruined. Really really it was. All those biscuits eaten before they reached a plate had no calories, she was sure that was correct.  Margaret is wrong. Very very wrong.

So, the half hour began.  Strolling is not to walk in a leisurely way. Strolling is to do line dancing at what seems great speed. The legs go up, legs are pointed, heels tapped, legs slide gsideways, step step,  along the floor. Lots and lots of times all a bit different, but yes,  Margaret swears it is line dancing but perhaps a teeny weeny bit slower. Puff Pant as Teacher strolled us through it, and again.

Then on came the music.  Margaret repeated to herself and anyone who would listen:  Strolling is not only not slow, there is no back row, because everyone keeps turning and turninguntil  the figures in the mirror were a blur, and the music raced, and Margaret quite lost her mind, her memory, and finally all control of her feet.

The key, Margaret realised, is to have the weight on the right foot. Margaret did not often have her weight on her correct foot. Margaret’s feet and legs got muddled. Margaret decided she would stay in the corner, and do her own thing, in time with the music.   At the end, Margaret tottered home, having had fun, oh yes she did, really she did. She will be better next week, really she will.

She reached home. She put cushions on the seat in the garden. She made two coffees. She took hers, and eventually Dick joined her, in the sun, by the Monkey Puzzle Tree, while Margaret explained about Strolling, but she didn’t mention the mirror. Certainly not. That is best kept between Margaret and her friends.