The book I came to buy was not easy to find. As I searched the crowded shelves, a quick movement to my left caught my attention.

As her mother browsed the books, the little girl by her side passed the time. She she danced with small, secret movements. Twice she glanced in my direction, pleasantly aware of her only audience. Perhaps she was remembering steps she learned that week in dance class. It was obvious to me that in her head, those movements were much larger, graceful and real. As I watched her from the corner of my eye, a thought occurred to me.

This little girl will probably never become a famous ballet dancer. Perhaps she doesn’t even desire that. At best, she will dance her way through college, possibly on a scholarship. Most likely, her interest in ballet dancing will fade as she enters high school where school spirit and team sports are emphasized. She may choose to join one of them, or she may not. Either way, her extra-curricular specialty will become only a past-time or a word on a future list of hobbies or a conversation piece.

That leaves her with only one conclusion: ballet dancing is not for later. Ballet dancing is for now. That little girl doesn’t have to be taught to dream of dancing forever. She does that naturally. But what would it take to convince her that dancing is for now?

Have you ever had the sense you are waiting for something? In the waiting, there is an expectation that things are going to change and that right now isn’t as important as later. What will it take to convince me that right now is later?

I’m so excited about this Saturday November 8. If you are local, you won’t want to miss out on a gathering of talent at Kendra’s house this weekend. Click on the icon for the details. There will be food. There will be jewelry. There will be stained glass art. There will be Nester tassels-a-plenty.

And of course there will be me, the tag-a-long little sister. I have no talent to sell. I will stand around and make people laugh with my fabulous wit while undoubtedly stuffing my face to feed my ever expanding muffin top. And I might take a few photos for kicks.

So come. Eat. Be merry. Buy a few Christmas gifts. Or not. But come. It’s gonna be great!

If you are heading to the polls today, don’t forget to listen in on those around you as you stand in line to vote. I’d love to hear your favorite quote from your sly eavesdropping. My voting experience was so very entertaining that I couldn’t possibly include it all in my last post. One of my favorite quotes from a fellow voter happened as follows:

After waiting over an hour, I glanced up as a group of three young girls walked into the crowded recreation center. They nearly spilled their Starbucks as they took one look at the line. Then, one of them walked confidently to a man who worked at the center and said in a loud, valley girl voice: “Can’t we just like, go up to the window and vote?”

Yes she did. And, when the man said no, she actually huffed. She huffed, people. There may have even been an eye roll. I’m surprised she didn’t fall over from all of our grownup eyes boring into the back of her sloppy pony-tailed head. I think we all stood collectively taller as she and her cohorts sauntered to the back of the line. Justice had been served. The people were satisfied. Democracy at its finest.

Now that it’s almost over, I can’t say I will miss the political ads. But there is a twinge of sadness as I bid farewell to all the personal phone calls I have been getting. Both Michelle and Barack Obama have called during this election season. Tonight, it was Hank Williams Jr. And last week, Stevie Wonder actually sang to me. He called to say he loved me. So sweet.

I just love living in a swing state.