In the music lesson Sharon was studying today, they were introducing the art or skill of conducting music and explaining all the hand movements.
She found it interesting, and me ... well ... it brought back a memory I hadn't thought of for years.
The summer I was eighteen my grandparents traveled out to South Dakota to some kind of health clinic where they stayed for several weeks.
After they came home Grandpa stopped by our house one afternoon. I was working my way through several wheelbarrow loads of sweetcorn, getting it ready to be canned. He pitched in to help, and we chatted as we worked.
Our conversation turned to their recent trip and the many things they had experienced. One happened to be about the way they spent their time on Sundays.
With no Amish church anywhere near, Grandpa and Grandma decided to simply walk to the nearest "English" church from the hotel they were staying. He was impressed with the nice soft benches they got to sit on, even though they were red, but it all got really strange when it was time to sing. Quite a few people went up front and turned to face the church, but just as they were ready to start singing this lady marched up to face them, and the entire time they were singing she stood there waving her arms and clawing towards them. He couldn't understand why no one did anything about it, since there was obviously something wrong with her.
Poor Grandpa never did learn that there was nothing wrong with the "clawing" lady, and it gave us all a good chuckle when I shared the memory with the girls this morning.