“You can never fall cause there will always be someone to hold you up.” - Jeremy Hevener

A friend of mine told me this a week before I opened my studio. Since then, the past six years have been a roller coaster ride of emotions. Everything from on-top-of-the-world happiness to the lowest, deepest, darkest sadness I had ever felt before in my life. There were times when I felt so alone in the world. Times when it felt like I was the only person walking around on the planet. But those wise words my friend told me were true – there were always people there to catch me if I would begin to fall backwards. Not only would those people catch me, but they would elevate me back to my feet and help hold me up. They gave me the courage, the strength, and the inspiration to keep fighting and keep climbing out of my hole.

Another friend gave me another piece of advice – “Family is what you make it.” And family was what helped me pull through a lot of my dark times. Friends who are just as close as family, my dancers (even though they probably had no idea they were helping), my mother, my husband, and my cousins. Some wanted to help but really had no idea how to, and others knew how to help and jumped in with both feet to do so. It was amazing that I could have this many amazing and caring people in my life and still feel alone, but unfortunately sometimes it is possible.

Just a few reason I have to smile

Lucky for me, when I needed these people (knowingly or not) they were there to help. My cloggers inspired me and provided me with friendship and showered me with happiness everyday at the studio. My mother – well, let’s just say I could never want for love and affection while she’s around. My husband, who sometimes (well most of the time) never really knows exactly what to do with me, but I can always feel him sending supportive vibes my way. My friends, well basically one friend in particular, who by random chance or maybe fate came into my life at the end of my slump to provide emotional traction when I was slipping. And my cousins – those friends from childhood and adulthood who provide encouragement and support in the form of a bond tighter than any person would dare challenge.

The point of this post is to reach those of you out there who may be in this situation. Those who may feel alone and who may feel like no one out there is listening, cares, or understands. True – there may not be someone out there who understands exactly what you’re going through. In fact, few people probably will. And in my experience, if you can find more than one person who might understand exactly what you’re going through – then you’re pretty lucky. But one thing’s for sure, even if there’s not someone out there who can understand your situation exactly, I’m sure there’s someone out there that would lend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on if you needed it. They may not know exactly what is wrong or what to do to make you feel better, but they want to help, which is the most important thing of all.

My #1 miracle cure - my husband, Robby

And sometimes it is easy to take family for granted, but if you have family members who are willing to show you constant love and support, then go to them when you need it. Of course, there will always be some blood-relatives that you inevitably can’t count on, but just disregard those people, and find the sources that make you shine.

We all have those people who are our miracle cure – the people who don’t have to do a thing but stand within 10 feet of us to make us feel better. That’s family. And that’s what family is for – they’re the place where you fall when you can’t stand any more.

"I think of dancers as vessels for a purpose greater than ourselves." - Camille Brown

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers

In the 1930’s, America experienced the worst financial crisis in its history – the Great Depression. Children would wonder if daddy’s job would last throughout the week, and many mothers prepared nightly suppers while worrying if the food supply would hold out until money hit home again. Young adults who were on the brink of starting their careers clung to a dream that could easily slip away. The Great Depression’s dark cloud threatened the idea of the American Dream. There were days when I’m sure happiness would drain from the lives of those who experienced this crushing time, and I’m sure there were instances when individuals wondered when they would have a reason to smile again… Enter Fred Astaire. Enter Bing Crosby. Enter Irving Berlin, John Steinbeck, Cole Porter, George and Ira Gershwin, Ginger Rogers, and all the other entertainers (both on stage and in print) during the 1930’s. During a time of stress and struggle, these artists brought a gift to people – a smile…inspiration…emotion.

Fred Astaire in "Royal Wedding"

Fred Astaire tapped and sang his way into the hearts of Americans everywhere. His innocence on screen and style and grace on the dance floor pulled people into the world of the light-footed entertainer, and Irvin Berlin brought Astaire and Rogers to the masses with movies, such as Top Hat and Follow the Fleet. Bing Crosby’s strong, deep voice provided the nation with inspiration and reassurance when he sang songs like “Pennies from Heaven” and “I’ve Got A Pocketful of Dreams.” Zany and crazy screwball comedies from the Marx Brothers gave people a reason to laugh and an opportunity to take life a little less seriously.

Of course, I didn’t experience the Great Depression, but I wouldn’t doubt that if I did, those artists would have been my saving grace. (Actually I would’ve hoped to have been an entertainer like that.) These artists did so much more than perform, write, or produce music. They used their talents to help lift a nation and its people through hopelessness and despair.

Entertainers then and now have a responsibility to use their talents for a purpose greater than themselves – to inspire those around them to follow their dreams, to provide entertainment and happiness to audiences, and maybe teach a student something to propel them forward in their search for whatever will make their life shine, whether it be a happy marriage or a career making movies in Hollywood.

I count my lucky stars that I have a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food on the table every evening. And even though gas prices keep rising, there’s no blues that can’t be brightened when I slip on my dance shoes or settle into my seat before a movie or live stage show. The performing arts gives people a reason to smile, to laugh, to cry, to feel. It may be a big screen movie that touches your heart or a fast-paced stage production that gives you goose bumps or produces that excited, tingling feeling in your chest.

Of course, dancers and entertainers are not the only talented beings on the planet that possess the ability to put a smile on someone’s face, make a difference, or even change lives. We all have that ability in us with skills like good listening, kindness, volunteerism, and a plethora of other talents. A friend of mine told me once that she must be an easy person to talk to because people (both of whom she knows well and doesn’t know at all) open up to her telling her their problems, fears, and dilemmas. She says she doesn’t know why they decide to open up to her, but apparently my friend has a gift, a quality that makes her approachable, trustworthy and able to help her peers just by lending an ear. Fred Astaire had his ability to entertain. Bing Crosby had his voice, and my friend has her welcoming vibes. What's your gift?

"To unpathed waters, undreamed shores." - William Shakespeare

Choose to Chance the Rapids

When I was a kid, I never wanted to spend the night at my friend’s house. I would always come up with an excuse for my friends to stay at my house, so I didn’t have to go to theirs. I didn’t feel comfortable outside of my home. Nor did I feel comfortable being alone. In fact, I was slightly terrified to be left by myself.

I was also the kid who got picked on at school and the one who would more than likely be chosen last when picking teams for kickball. I was never the obvious leader and was probably the last person the teacher or my classmates would pick to be in charge of a group. While I wouldn’t really classify myself as shy, I definitely desired to keep a low profile.

My, how times have changed…

Isn’t it funny that now, twenty years later, I find myself traveling here and there and everywhere, sometimes with travel companions and sometimes cross-country totally by myself. My eight-year-old self, who was sometimes too scared to stay overnight at her cousin’s house across the street, wouldn’t know what to make of me today.

And if someone would have told her that today she would be leading three dance teams and own her own dance studio, productions company, and small web design firm, I don’t think she would have believed them.

The View from the Mountain Top in Montenegro

And then of course, there was my recent trip to Europe. I know there are many people in the world that may have hiked to the top of a fjord in Montenegro many times in their lives, but for a little country bumpkin from the mountains of Virginia, that’s something I never really thought I’d ever have the chance to do.

Now, I’m by no means bragging on myself. As Denzel Washington said “Luck is where opportunity meets preparation,” and I definitely had some luck and opportunity come my way.

But my point is (as Tim McGraw’s newest song says) “I’m learning who you’ve been ain’t who you’ve gotta be.” Although I may have been the dorky, unpopular, awkward, eight-year-old at one point in my life, that doesn’t mean I have to be awkward and scared today (though I may still happily retain a little of the dorkiness from time to time.) And even though I once had a fear of the unknown, it doesn’t mean I’m going to retain that fear today and sit idly by as possibilities and opportunities pass me by. Maybe I’ve learned from my fears. I guess that scared eight-year-old taught me a thing or two about living – to not let natural fears and born-into limitations restrict the rest of your life. No matter where we are from, who we are surrounded by, or how much money we have or don’t have, there is always a way to accomplish our goals and see our dreams come to life. I have seen too many possibilities in my life to believe in impossibility.

Clutching the Railing While Pulling Out of Barcelona

Another fear I have is a fear of water and ships. Did I mention the trip to Europe was a two-week cruise in the Mediterranean? I was terrified driving up to the ship, terrified when I boarded, and terrified to the point of tears as I stood clutching the railing of my balcony as the ship traveled farther and farther away from land. I knew I would be, but I wanted that experience, and I was ready to fight for it. And guess what? I won.

"I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it." - Edith Sitwell

Every now and again a blogger has to have a rant post, right? Well, here I go:

Yes, I do tend to have a temper sometimes, and yes, sometimes I do get worked up over little things, but as I tried to enjoy the mediocre Super Bowl half-time show last night, I really got riled up when “MIA” (or whatever her name is) felt the need to thoroughly “express herself” in front of the audience. “What the…???” I said to myself. “Really?”

This leads me to another story: When I went on a Mediterranean cruise last fall, I got off the ship in Civitvecchia, Italy. My friend and I were waiting for our guide when another guide asked if he could help us with anything. I turned to him and said “No, thank you. We’re waiting for our guide.” I saw the man look a bit surprised when he heard my voice.

After narrowing his eyebrows in confusion, the man asked me “Where are you from?”

“From America,” I replied.

“Interesting,” the man said. “You don’t look like an American.”

A bit confused, I asked the man what he meant, and he proceeded to tell me in so many words (and more politely, of course) that I didn’t look fat, ugly, or stupid. He said most Americans he encounters are overweight, rude, and lazy.

Fast forward a few months to the Super Bowl... I couldn’t help but think of that Italian guide when Miss. MIA decided to represent America and herself on national television the only way she knew how – with her middle finger and her crotch. Wow… Is this what our country is coming to?

Now don’t get me wrong. I AM proud to be an American, and I told that little Italian guy that I’m sorry for the rude Americans he had encountered, but reassured him we are not all like that, that there are some Americans out there who know how to act properly and who work hard everyday. And I’m not saying the opinionated entertainer at the Super Bowl didn’t work hard to get her opportunity to perform at the Super Bowl. I know I would be psyched if I got to clog as part of the half-time show. But if I ever made it there, you could bet your last copper penny I would find a more suitable way to represent myself, my family, my friends, my colleagues, and my country in a better way. It’s no wonder Europeans have bad opinions of us when we have people like her representing our country.

I’m sure there were lots of people, including myself, who had never heard of that singer before in their lives. And maybe she was just trying to make a statement. Well, she made one alright, and now I (and probably many other people) will now remember her as that dumb girl from the Super Bowl half-time show who flipped off the audience. Way to go, girl, for making your obscene mark on history and giving our nation and our nation’s youth one more reason to believe that flipping the birdie is a cool and appropriate thing to do. God Bless America… (No God… Really… Please?)

Dance: Depression Intervention (No Rhythm Required)

I’m sitting in my office fresh out of the new year season watching the snow fall. I can feel the mid-winter funk coming on. The cheery Christmas warmth is gone from my house. The tree is still lit, but my husband is at work, so there is no one here at the moment to share it with. Christmas presents have been given. Candy has been eaten. (Actually it is still being eaten.) The new year has come and gone. No more Christmas music will be heard on Q99, and no more Christmas movies will be on T.V.

Apparently a close friend was feeling the funkiness, too. “I’m in a funk. Make me laugh,” says a little instant message box that pops up on my screen. I message back: “I’m in a funk, too.” This friend is also one of my dancers and always says dancing makes her feel better when she’s unhappy. “Go to dance class!” she suggests.

“Emergency dance break!” I agree. So I sent her my proposal: “Okay. Stand up in the middle of your office and bust a move.”

“I will if you will,” pops up in the instant message box.

“Ok… GO!!!” I send.

I stand up. A smile starts to edge across my face. I bust out into a dorky dance similar to that of Carlton from the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I goof around for a little bit, stop in the middle of the room, giggle, and replace myself at my desk. (It’s no wonder my sister affectionately calls me “the goof.”) I type: “Are you dancing?”

“That cracked me up!” my friend responded. “Do you know how stupid it feels to do the salsa without music all by yourself?”

“Ah well,” I reply. “At least it made you laugh.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Laughter like crying releases stress... but laughter is more fun.”

The best thing about dance is everyone knows how to dance whether they’ve taken a class or not. I believe movement, no matter how beautiful or ridiculous it may be, makes people feel better. Of course it does! It gets your blood pumping! (Add several funny women together in a room like my Wednesday night adult Clogging class or my competition team Rhythmic Alliance that you see to the left, and you’ve got yourself a good little dose of laugh therapy!)

Many studies suggest that engaging in physical activity, such as dancing, not only promotes better physical well-being but encourages a more positive attitude and reduces symptoms of depression and anxiety. Individuals diagnosed with major depression have shown significant improvements after aerobic-exercise intervention – improvements similar to that of psychotropic treatments, or treatments affecting the central nervous system. In addition, physically-active patients had significantly lower relapse rates than those on medication. And did you know that consistent physical activity may even prevent depression?

So the next time you’re having a bad day. Get up, and bust a move. Right there in your office. Just bust that move all over the place. Who cares if you “know” how to dance or not? Who cares if people are watching? (You might actually put a smile on someone’s face!)

And if you’re looking for something to rid yourself of the winter, after-holiday, it’s-still-three-months-until-spring blues, consider enrolling in a dance class. My Wednesday night ladies will tell you nothing makes them feel better than dancing and laughing with a few good friends. And it’s a great way to work off the Christmas cookies and candy, too!

"It's Kind of Fun to do the Impossible." - Walt Disney

As most of my friends know (and my blog followers have probably figured out) I’m a fan of quotes. A friend of mine (and also a very smart clogging student) recently posted this Loren Cunningham quote on Facebook: “Young people do the impossible before they find out it’s impossible - that's why God uses them so often.” So when, where, and why do we grow out of the belief that our biggest goals and dreams are possible?

I’ll admit I’ve thought a few things in my life would never happen. I always wanted to go to Europe but to have the money to travel around the world and visit one European destination was something I figured I wouldn’t experience until I was at least 40 and had a stronger financial grounds. (Don’t ask me why I think 40 is the magic age…) But just a few short weeks ago at the age of 27, I found myself marveling at the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Spain, taking a gondola ride in Venice, Italy, hiking to a ancient fortress in the fjords of Kotor, Montenegro, and posing for a picture at the Pompeii ruins with Mt. Vesuvius in the background (photo to the right.) In all, I visited five European countries. To think about it today, it feels like I’m remembering a dream. (My next goal is Ireland.)

When I told my younger cloggers I would be gone for a couple weeks because I would be in Europe, they excitedly rushed up to me and asked where in Europe I was traveling and if I was going to see “that leaning tower.” I laughed and told them I didn’t know exactly where I was going to be able to go, but the leaning tower was on my list of things to see. Then one little girl piped up and said “I’m going to see that one day.”

Turn the page to an adult conversation – would most adults have the same definitive attitude as my younger junior clogger did? That this is something they will see one day? Some adults may say they wish they could go see the Eiffel Tower, but they inevitably find an excuse in one way or another as to why they can’t go - that it’s impossible.

I guess I have not grown-up completely because I don’t believe anything is impossible. Again I’ll admit that I had my doubts, but I knew if the right chance and opportunity presented itself then I would indeed get to taste pizza and lasagna in the country in which it was invented.

But too often I believe adults dismiss possibilities before they even have a chance to become reality. Is it so crazy to believe you could quit the awful day job you hate to create a successful small business doing something you love? Is it so crazy to believe you could actually enjoy a sunset in the French Riviera (even though it may not be on a multi-million dollar yacht) just like the millionaires who frequently vacation there? Is it crazy to believe that you could become a singer or an actress or a dancer the way you always dreamed you would when you were a child?

To say that something is impossible or simply can’t happen is only living life halfway. I’m sure I’ve said this in past posts, and I’m sure I’ll say it in many future posts, but we only get one life to live. Don’t let it pass you by. Seize the day. Grab life by the horns. And don’t be afraid of possibility and dreams becoming reality. After all, where’s the fun in not pushing the boundaries?

Santa = Stress??

As I scrolled through stories on a health website, I saw a headline that read “Control Your Stress During the Holidays.” I scrolled further to find “8 Easy Tips to Keep Your Stress in Check This Holiday Season.” And even further down, I read “Simple Ways to Beat Holiday Stress.” Did I miss something? When and why did Christmas become so stressful??

Yes, I know we’re all running this way and that to get the tree trimmed, the house decorated perfectly, and gifts purchased for our loved ones (and some that aren’t so loved), but why do we put these tasks in our “stressful” column.

So have our lives become so complicated that we can’t pull enjoyment from a sparkling Christmas tree? What exactly do we put in our stressful column? Everything? Why are we not taking the time to enjoy everything we do instead of complaining about it?

I've had the Christmas Spirit from day one!

Christmas has always been (and still is) my favorite time of the year. It’s the only time of the year when I feel carefree and less stressed. When I was a little girl, I remember the smell of good food. I remember the site of my mom in the kitchen preparing tons of holiday treats. I remember being so excited about seeing my cousins at family get-togethers or watching movies with my dad on Christmas Eve before I attempted to overcome my excitement and go to sleep. I remember waking up Christmas morning and running down to our living room to see our 10-foot tall Christmas tree decorated to the max with stacks of presents underneath. I remember finding a half-eaten plate of cookies next to the fireplace and a note with the most beautiful script handwriting – handwriting that only Santa himself could produce. Those happy memories continued through the years and still continue today. It was just a few years ago that my nieces stood at the living room door and watched Rudolph playing in the yard while a big jolly elf stood nearby ho-ho-hoing. How could making memories like these be labeled as stressful?

My big sister, Crysta, and I digging through our stockings

And don’t try to use the adult excuse – “Well things are harder now because we’re adults, and we are the ones who have to prepare the food, and buy the presents, and plan a big holiday get-together for the family.” Nope, I’m not buying it. I LOVE buying presents for people! To see the look on my grandmother’s face when she opens a simple present – a picture of her family displayed in a plain black frame. I look forward to seeing the expression on my cousins’ faces as they unwrap and lay eyes on a very special gift I knew was for them as soon as I saw it. Being an adult doesn’t mean Christmas is automatically stressful. Yes, I know we have more things to do, but I enjoy getting out the Frosty the Snowman snack platters I only get to use once a year and stacking them full of pigs-in-blankets to enjoy while watching a Christmas movie with my husband and sister-in-law.

Maybe instead of viewing all of these holiday “stresses” as negatives, we need to take a step back and realize how lucky we are to have a home to decorate, money to buy a Christmas tree, and loved ones to buy gifts for (even the annoying, pesky father-in-law.) Plus, if you’re a Christian (which I am), why not reflect on the ultimate gift of all – the birth of the baby Jesus, a child who would grow and ultimately give his life for all mankind. Throughout the year, so many of us want to be loved, but we reject the season where everyone is giving love freely. Cue the therapist… Why do people automatically deem this season that is full of love, family, fun, and (don’t forget) good food stressful? The only worry I’ll have during the Christmas season is how long it’s going to take me to work off all the ham, turkey mashed potatoes, and Christmas cookies!!

"The future depends on what we do in the present." - Mahatma Gandhi

If Gandhi was right, that's putting a lot of pressure on every single second of our lives. I'm sure a lot of readers will agree that the older you get, the quicker time flies. Great... now that we're actually old enough to make our own decisions, we don't have time to... Personally, I have a long bucket list. At 27, I've knocked out several items on my list, but I still have a long way to go. There are even some items I've wanted to accomplish during my 20's, but time is marching on, and my 20's are quickly disappearing. (I guess I better get to work!)

Being a dancer gives me an even greater appreciation for time, and while I will always be able to clog in one way or another, my toes won't always hold up to toe stands and my knees, hips, and lower leg muscles will eventually start aggravating me more than they already are. Eventually (as much as I hate to admit it) I will not be able to dance the way I am now, which makes me cherish every second that I am able to dance and perform the way I do in the present. To take it all in when I'm dancing at The Greenbrier, to take every opportunity to entertain alongside amazing dancers on a competitive stage, and to welcome new adventures with open arms because I don't know just where they might lead.

But if the future depends on what we do in the present, how do we know we're always making the right decisions? The littlest of opportunities that we pass by could unfold into the greatest accomplishment or adventure of our lifetime. So many of us have a goal that we often dream of and fantasize about but continue to put off. I'll do that one day, we think. One day I will quit my boring day job and open the business I've always wanted to, or One day I will take a road trip across the country, or One day I will take that extra step to shoot for my dream. But what happens when that one day never comes? What happens when fear, procrastination, or simply not believing gets in the way? We only get one life to live, people, and here's the other thing to think about - the only guarantee is that we will live until we die. I could go until I'm 98 or I could only live to see 28.

So if you have a dream, a goal, or just something you've always wanted to do, now is the time. Don't think. Do! Yes, the future does depend on what we do in the present. To be frank (and in this case I believe that's the best way to be) if you want to have a future full of self-doubt with thoughts along the lines of I wonder what would have happened if I... then that's your choice. But if you want to leave this great, big world behind knowing that you have done or tried to do everything you set out to, then I suggest taking the road less traveled. Carve out your new path today, and if you're already on that path then keep on trottin'. Be true to what you really want out of life, and let that little voice inside of you, your inner-dreamer, come to the surface. We only get one life to live. New paths and opportunities may be scary, but is it better to have lived and lost than never to have lived at all?? Living and grabbing life by the horns or a future full of what-if's? I choose to grab those horns and hang on for the ride.

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." - Helen Keller

This blog started out following my dance career, but over the years my focus has changed - it has widened a bit. I still love to dance, and dance will always be a part of me, but there are many more adventures in life. Adventures I plan to take, and discoveries I plan to make.

"Life's A Dance" will continue to follow me wherever I may go, whether it is to a dance competition, traveling who knows where with friends, or having an epiphany while sitting on my backyard swing with my husband, Robby. With this blog comes the good, the bad, the funny, the sad, and the inspirational. So take my posts for what you like whether it be travel, advice, inspiration, or just tales from a crazy small-business owner/dancer/writer who seems to always been running around like a chicken with her head cut off.

Life is truly a dance. Sometimes it's a waltz. Sometimes its salsa. Toes do get stepped on and failed lifts will always happen, but without these minor setbacks we would never experience greatness.

A Tribute to my Best Friend

Many of my friends, followers, and family members know how close the fight against cancer stays to my heart. This year, I have taken on the position of the Highland County Relay for Life chair, and I am having a lot of fun doing it.

I woke up this morning with Relay on my mind. "What could I do to raise a little more money for Relay?" I thought. I sat down with my handy dandy Relay for Life chair notebook and started looking through it's suggestions for fundraisers. I kept turning the pages, but nothing was clicking. Then, I came across a fundraising idea called "Paws for a Cause," and it reminded me of one reason why I Relay. So I decided to share my reason with all of you in hopes that some of my readers would make a donation on behalf of my friend who passed away from cancer three years ago last month.

It all started when...
I was eight or nine years old, my sister came home one weekend with a laundry basket full of clothes. I was sitting at the kitchen table as she walked in carrying what I thought was just dirty laundry to be done. She sat the basket down next to me, and as I sat there I noticed the laundry was moving! I stared at the basket with wide eyes and a confused look on my face. Suddenly, the basket toppled over and out rolled the cutest, fluffiest, most adorable puppy I would ever see for the rest of my days. Meet Auggi.

From that day forward until the day she passed away, Auggi was my best friend. She was there to support me through my awkward and confusing teenage years, she was there when I graduated high school, and she even gave me away at my wedding.

In January of 2008, I received a phone call that made my heart not just sink, but it felt like my heart fell from my chest all the way through the bottoms of my feet. I heard my mother's voice: "Something is wrong with Auggi. She can't walk." I rushed to my mother's house where my sweet pup was. I walked in to find her laying in the hallway. I tried to encourage her to get up, but the back half of her body was not working. I knew this wasn't good. After snapping a few pictures (left) just in case, I scooped Auggi up in my arms and rushed her to the vet's office.

I received news that Auggi had cancer and she would soon be taken from me. My best friend? Gone?

"What can be done? What can I do?" I desperately asked the vet. She told me about a few surgeries that might help, but were a long shot and may cause Auggi more discomfort in her last days.

We've all had those moments where we've just stared off into space, not knowing quite what to do... I was there. I clung to my Auggi dog and willed myself to think of something, anything that could save my special girl. Nothing. The only thing I knew how to do was pray and hope.

The next two months brought ups and downs. Some days, Auggi would walk and I would be hopeful. Other days, she was in pain. She began to lose weight, and I could tell she was in more discomfort. One night, I laid next to her all night trying to spend as much time with her as a could. In the early morning hours, Auggi looked me in the eyes and I could feel her telling me it was time.

With tears streaming down my face, I slowly picked her up, wrapped her in a blanket and took my best friend to the vet's office. I knew what I had to.

I placed her on the vet's examination table, and the prepared to send my Auggi dog on a new journey - one with less pain. The vet told me it would only take a matter of a few seconds once the drugs went in to Auggi's system. "Are you sure?" she asked me once more before starting the process. "Yes," I said through uncontrollable sobs. I looked into the eyes of my dear, sweet, doggie as she left this world. My hand, placed over her heart, felt the organ beat its last. My baby was gone.

The pain of losing my Auggi dog is still as strong as it was that day. Tears overflow from my eyes as I write this causing me to stop writing, cry, and write some more - a story that needs to be told.

Please consider following this link and making a donation to the Highland County Relay for Life, whether it be for Auggi, for yourself, for a friend or loved one who has survived or passed away from cancer, or... for someone you'll never meet. For a stranger that you will never know who is fighting the fight right now. Please help. And, please hope. Together we can make a difference.

Double Toein' It!

It's not everyday you see yourself and someone you know on the cover of a magazine! Imagine my delight when I received an envelope from Jeff Driggs, editor of the Double Toe Times magazine, and saw Graham and I on the cover of the newest issue!

Double Toe Times has been the must-read magazine for Cloggers for over 30 years. This publication is distributed to Cloggers all over the nation, and each issue contains articles about Clogging, listings of Clogging instructors and Clogging events, ads for Clogging merchandise, and routine cuesheets. (For more information on Double Toe Times or to subscribe, visit www.doubletoe.com.)

The cover photo was taken by David Cockerham of Mirror Slap Photography and was captured at the Independance Day performance of "This is America," a show written by Betty Cauley, produced by Terry Kershner, and performed by the Mountain Valley Players of Bath County, Virginia.

You can see this routine in the new Mountain Valley Players show "The Best of MVP... So Far!" this weekend at the Bath County High School Auditorium in Bath County, Virginia. Show times are: Saturday, November 13 at 2 p.m. and 7 p.m., and Sunday, November 14 at 2 p.m. This show will feature audience and cast favorites from past MVP productions. In addition, Graham and I will also be performing "In The Mood," a crowd favorite from MVP's World War II themed production of "Over Here, Over There." Hope to see you there!

Excellence in Maggie Valley

"We are what we repeatedly do.
Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit."
- Aristotle

I continue to be blessed with excellence. Excellence in love, excellence in life, excellence in business, and excellence in my dancers.

The American Clogging Hall of Fame (ACHF) recognizes excellent dancers from around the country through their All American teams. An All American dancer is inducted to these prestigious teams because of their love, dedication, knowledge, and advocacy of Clogging and also for their sportsmanship at competitions and their representation of Clogging to the public. Nominations are sent to ACHF from many instructors from around the country. This year, the ACHF chose 18 dancers for their Junior All American Team and 22 dancers for their All American team, and I endured a few more excellent experiences.

Rebecca Landrum, one of my dancers, was inducted to the American Clogging Hall of Fame Junior All American team. Rebecca has only been dancing four years, but her love for Clogging shows to everyone she knows. She proudly totes her book bag that reads "Clogger" through her high school, and, during downtime at volleyball matches, I notice her feet jumping around as she "stands" on the court waiting for the next serve.

Rebecca, unlike her Clogging teammates, was not blessed with an ear for music. She has to put more time, thought, and effort into perfecting a step that some of her teammates can pick up in a second. However, I don't think I have ever heard her mutter "I can't do it." It's always "Just give me a minute. I'll get it."On Friday, October 22, I presented Becca with her Junior All American jacket. I was sitting next to her when her name was called... and I almost went deaf. Becca screams when she is excited... In case you didn't notice in the picture above, Becca and I look a lot alike. That's because she is my niece. Clogging is in her blood.


The following Saturday night, October 23, the inductees were announced for the All American team. Becca had received the Junior All American team induction and Emily Kimble, another dancer of mine, received the Junior honor last year. However, this year, I was able to present one of my dancers with a white All American jacket, an honor that I had received in 2008. My first "All American" was none other than my dancer partner, Graham Kershner.

Graham has been with me since the start of Sundance. He was my first student. Five years ago, when I started teaching him, I would have never guessed that today we would be performing together professionally. In addition, we perform with our theatre group, Mountain Valley Players. (In the last show, I told one of the ladies in the cast that if I couldn't find Graham in the theatre all I had to do was listen and follow the "pitter-patter" of his feet. Coincidentally, I can also use the same trick to locate Rebecca.)

From the time Graham was little, he wanted to entertain, act, and, of course, dance, just like his idol Fred Astaire. He is now 18 and, as you saw in my last blog post, has taken many steps to put himself in a prime position to make Clogging and entertaining part of his career. "To ask Graham not to dance and entertain is to ask him not to breathe." That is what I told the All American Nomination Committee, and it's the truth. He was born to be on a stage, and always puts 150% of himself into a performance. He is a perfectionist. "Good enough" is never enough for him, and I wouldn't have it any other way. He keeps me on my toes... in more ways than one. :)

As if having two of my dancers on the team wasn't enough, my best friend, Lisa Johnson, also made the All American team.
Lisa, who was at one time my instructor, taught me how to dance, how to teach, and how to perform. She took me to my first competition and I won my first solo trophy under her direction. She provided me with the knowledge I need to choreography award-winning routines and teach award-winning dancers. She provided me with the knowledge to make my dream come true, and she truly deserved that white jacket before I received mine.


The cherry on top came during the performance of the All American team. Lisa, the lady who taught me everything, partnered with Graham, my first student at Sundance and my professional dance partner. Graham would roll his eyes at my sappiness, but, yes, a tear slid down my cheek as I took the picture below.

Magic in Missoula

I sat in a dark auditorium staring starry-eyed at a stage full of 180 talented teens from all over the world. There were singers, actors, musicians, and... the one teen that I came to see.

I knew what was coming, I just didn't know when. As I sat in the audience, a familiar sound hit my ears. It was coming from my right, from the back stage. The sound of Clogging taps. I could hear his taps, and it nearly brought me out of my seat. A few seconds later, Graham strutted into the spotlight and proceeded to tear up the stage and make the crowd roar. He was Clogging. Clogging! A skill that I had played a part in helping him develop! One of my former students, my current dance partner, and my cousin was on stage making the audience, including myself, go nuts. Over the past five years, I had watched him grow and watched him develop this skill, and now I was blessed enough to see him use that skill on a stage as grand as this! It was one of the proudest moments of my life. I was watching Graham giving it his all for his dream.


Graham traveled to Missoula, Montana to the Missoula Children's Theatre Performing Arts Camp for the first time when he was 13. He, of course, took his Clogging shoes with them. It's a good thing he did because when he got to the first rehearsal the dance choreographer told the cast that they would be learning a southern dance called (you guessed it) Clogging. Graham's response was "Well, do you want me to go get my shoes?" After the choreographer and the director of the show saw Graham dance, they all agreed to give him a dance solo in the play. And, he's had one ever since.

This was Graham's fifth and final year as a participant in the Missoula Children's Theatre Performing Arts Camp, and I count my lucky stars that I was there to see him perform in his final show. Not only did he show everyone there what Clogging was all about, but he got one of the lead acting roles in the show, and did an AMAZING job!


As a dance instructor, that is the greatest part of my job - seeing my students and, in this case, my dance partner do amazing things and follow their dreams. I consider myself blessed to be a part of their lives!

Why I Love Highland County

I am blessed enough to live in a place that is not littered with tall buildings, honking horns, and constant sirens where the air is fresh and the grass is green. A two-lane black top leads north and south out of town and also east and west. At their crossroads hangs a flashing traffic light.... no one really knows why it's there since there is probably only 75 vehicles a day that cross its path, and half of those are repeat customers.

My house sits right next to that two-lane blacktop that leads north out of town. Even though I am right next to the road, I still get to experience the splender and inspiration of this area.

I was working at my desk one day this summer with the window up. A nice breeze was blowing on a warm summer day. I, then, heard a rustling in the grass outside of my window. I looked up and this is what I saw:

The fence in this picture is about six feet from the window at my office. She just decided to come by for a visit and pose for a picture. She looked in the window at me as if to say "Hello. How are you?" As she chewed on the grass in her mouth, she turned and wandered carelessly through the pasture looking around and taking in the nice summer day.

Today, as I walked outside to deal with the chore of doing the laundry, I looked up through my pasture. Flying high above the creek in our pasture were three bald eagles. The cooler air of the day must have made them feel good. They were screaming and screeching as they fluttered around. They were diving and twisting through the air as they played during this cool, but sunny afternoon. Just one more reason to love beautiful Highland County, Virginia.

Clogging Creates Lifelong Friendships in Two's

In the words of Kylie Arbogast: "There's twos of the them!"

During the summer of 2003, I danced with the Little Switzerland Cloggers at the Monterey Lions Club Street Dance. Little did I know that during that performance, I would dance with two little five-year-olds that would later become a vital part of my team as well as my dreams.

Chelsey Isles and Emily Kimble are two of my senior dancers with Sundance Express and the Little Switzerland Cloggers. They were those little five-year-old's at the 2003 Street Dance. See them in the picture below? They have their backs to the camera. Emily is wearing the purple shirt and Chelsey has on the red dress. My mouth dropped when I dusted the cobwebs off this picture and figured out who those little girls were. And, yup, that big, goofy-looking, beanpole in the middle of everything leading the "Cinnamon Twist" is me.... *sigh*.
I've noticed over the years that Clogging not only builds friendships, but it seems to build them in "two's." Chelsey and Emily are one of those pairs. I recall several two's in the Little Switzerland Cloggers over the years: Shelly Roberts and Chrissy Cauley, Candace Hammer and Lori Siron, Tiffany Hotz and myself (aka: Tata and Dada courtesy of my niece, Rebecca), Sarah Bradley and Cindy Hull, Ashley Waggoner (now Arbogast) and Amber Botkin, Mary Kate Cobb and Kayla Simmons, and so many more. In addition to Emily and Chelsey, LSC also has another "two" - Sydney Armstrong and Katelyn Hise.

Last Saturday, the Little Switzerland Cloggers performed at Douthat State Park in Bath County, Virginia. After the show, we all witnessed the next "two" - Heidi Grimes and Kylie Arbogast, daughters of two of our current dancers.






Left: Emily and Chelsey "all growed up" dancing together with their Contemporary Duo "Monster"

Below: Heidi Grimes and Kylie Arbogast at Douthat State Park.

Could these two be the next Emily and Chelsey? Only time will tell. :-)