26 Miles Across the Sea. . . .

There are lebenty leben million shots of the casino on Santa Catalina Island. This is one of them. That's where we were over the weekend and that's why The Inn looked abandoned.

The southern California branches of the RSCDS sponsored a weekend of classes and dances on the island and herself and I enjoyed ourselves rather a lot. Alas, she did the dancing. I mostly hobbled. But the music was outstanding and the weekend well-worth attending, even for those of us with a wonky left foot (though no longer in a boot-brace I'm delighted to say).

Did manage to lead the Grand March with Bill H. on snare from the center of town out to the casino.

But only just. It was a long blow and a long walk which the wonky foot did not appreciate. Three quarters of a mile perhaps? And up four or six steep ramps - I forget; it seemed like ten - and into the main ballroom.

About three minutes after that last shot was taken of us playing into the casino porch, the lungs and the foot both gave out, I played Flowers of the Forest for myself, raised the white flag of surrender, and sat down with the proffered libation. Followed by dinner, conversation, music, and for some, dance.

Wonderful evening, once I got my breath back.

[Post scriptum: For those who worry about such things, the word "casino" does not necessarily imply gambling, which so far as I know, doesn't occur there any more. From the fons scientiæ cunctæ, Wikipedia: "The term 'Casino' is of Italian origin, the root word being "Casa" (house) and originally meant a small country villa, summerhouse or pavilion. The word changed to refer to a building built for pleasure, usually on the grounds of a larger Italian villa or palazzo. Such buildings were used to host civic town functions – including dancing, music listening and gambling."