There's nothing wrong with birthday cake!

That orange ball south of Cuba has burgeoned into quite something overnight, but the experts concur so far that it's heading towards Mexico or Florida, and those of us in the middle should not get our knickers in a twist just yet, so I'm going to heed their advice. Nevertheless, it's a good reminder to make sure I'm ready to leave on short notice any time in the next 3 months. And it's awfully nice to know, once again this year, that I've got my "Sarah Crewe" charming garret atop an English Tudor off Lake Michigan in Shorewood, WI, waiting for me -- all homey and furnished -- should I need to drop everything and go.

What a morning! I had summer ballet camp with my beloved curtain climbers and we had such a good time. Lots of warmups followed by their basic plies and tendus and piques, and then we marched and skipped and galloped until ALL OF US were exhausted and could not move another inch. So when they all collapsed onto the floor, laughing and gasping, I went with the flow and put on a tape of primeval forest sound effects. I let them act out frogs and snakes and birds (but "No," I said to little Alex, "I do NOT not allow tarantulas in my forest!").

While "in the woods," we walked on a log across a stream, dug a hole, gathered sticks, rubbed rocks together to generate a spark, ignited the sticks in the hole with the spark, and roasted marshmallows, after which we put out the fire with the dirt we initially dug out of the hole and left our campsite clean as a whistle. Imagination is a wonderful thing, no?

Eventually we came to the end of our creative movement portion whereby they do jetes (leaps) over sponges placed in the shape of a horse shoe and then proceed to hop on two feet like bunnies through a series of hula hoops in the middle of the horse shoe. They are supposed to line up in the letter "J" and await their turn to make their respective journeys across the sponges and through the hoops, whereupon they should return to the letter "J" -- the end of the letter "J" and move up gradually until it's their turn once again.

Quel mess!!!!!!!! They completely forgot how to keep the letter "J" moving along smoothly and it was nothing but collisions and turmoil and gridlock, not to mention children hanging like monkeys from the ballet barres or chatting in twos and threes like it was cocktail hour. And when I stopped the music and halted the exercise, they decided it was their cue to begin tearing around the studio like hooligans, "helping me" by collecting the sponges and hoops, all the while whooping it up.

Now, I know it's summer and time to chill in more than ways than one. But this is the kind of nonsense you have to put an end to right away or the class will get away from you and you'll never get it back, week after week. Since this was the last exercise right before snack time, where they sit and watch a portion of "The Nutcracker," I was able to scold and bribe accordingly.

"Snacks must be earned by dancers," I said sternly, as I proceeded to put the sponges back down. "Now that whole thing was pretty bad. So we are going to repeat this exercise and learn to do this like real dancers. No, no, no -- no more hoops. We are going to learn how to do this correctly, starting only with sponges. See this red star on the floor? That's where you each begin your turn. And show me your opening pose. Yes! We present our pointed foot and open our arms in second position each time. And you don't begin your turn until Miss Chrissy does what?"

Big chorus: "YOU TAP US ON THE SHOULDER!"

"And you have to keep moving after you finish your turn, right back into the letter 'J.' If the person in front of you stops, you have my permission to say nicely, 'Please keep moving.'"

This was followed by very sober looks as they quietly recreated the letter "J" and I proceeded to run them like little colts over and over the sponges, each one of them stepping right up to the red star, presenting their little pointed feet and working diligently at their leaps until they were truly tuckered out.

Lots of praise for all that good work followed by snacks and film, during which, I must say, they were very quiet and polite in asking for help with opening drinks and snack packs. This is why I really love working with children. You can see amazing progress in weeks instead of months or years. Wonderful.

We always conclude with crafts time. For the last couple of weeks, I have changed the 'layout' of this segment by creating two or three small circles of children, who then work on their project in their little part of the floor and I or my assistants can move from within the circle (like the hands of a clock) to have one on one time with each of them.

One of our projects today was for them to assess a half dozen cutouts of food as to whether they are good or bad for you and then paste them in the place for good food or bad food. The soda can and lollipop were pretty easy for the children to understand. But some of them looked quite concerned about the birthday cake with candles on it. "Is this REALLY bad for you?" they asked bewilderedly.

They had a point there. I thought quickly, then said, "It would be bad if it were your birthday EVERY day and you ate cake, but a little piece is a treat once a year." Man, who devised these cutouts? Couldn't they come up with something a little less controversial and a lot more obvious? Perish the thought that I should scare pre-schoolers about the potential of cardiac arrest from a traditional treat on their special day! Now here's a suggestion for the people who create the materials for these projects -- something a LOT MORE OBVIOUS!!!!!!!

Courtesy of Wikipedia: Deep-fried Twinkies

A deep-fried Twinkie involves freezing the popular Hostess Twinkie cake, dipping it into batter and deep frying it to create a variation on the traditional snack cake. According to the Hostess website, Christopher Sell, from Rugby, England, invented the "fried twinkie" in 2001 at the ChipShop, his restaurant in Brooklyn, New York.[5] According to CNN, the dish was adopted by Chris Mullen, but invented at a "Brooklyn restaurant."
It was described by a The New York Times story in this way: "Something magical occurs when the pastry hits the hot oil. The creamy white vegetable shortening filling liquefies, impregnating the sponge cake with its luscious vanilla flavor... The cake itself softens and warms, nearly melting, contrasting with the crisp, deep-fried crust in a buttery and suave way. The piece de resistance, however, is a ruby-hued berry sauce, adding a tart sophistication to all that airy sugary goodness."[6]
The deep-fried Twinkie was a runaway success after Mullen and his brother started selling it at county fairs in mid-August. "We sold 26,000 Twinkies in 18 days," By 2002, the Arkansas State Fair had introduced the fried Twinkie to great popular acclaim, and the notion spread to other state fairs across the U.S., as well as some establishments that specialize in fried foods.[7] Fried Twinkies are sold throughout the U.S. in state fairs, as well as ball park games.