Jessica’s Column by Jessica Davies

Jessica Davies from Duffield has been a regular columnist for All Things Local for the past 3 years. Jessica is now at Cambridge University studying French and Spanish. With such an intense workload, Jessica has decided to step down from her role as regular columnist for All Things Local and this is her final contribution:

Welcome Winter

This is the time of year that Dad likes to play his thrifty heating game. It’s a game of endurance and pushing the boundaries. And shivering. He likes to sneakily knock the thermostat down one degree at a time and reduce the hours that the radiators thaw; with an adamance that 18^oC is a healthy room temperature. How cold can a house get before the family turns into icicles? 

There’s probably some secret league table for fathers everywhere. “I got it down to 15.5^o today,” They boast, “Only had it on for two hours!” Cue impressed hand-shaking and blokey congratulations. We just huddle together resignedly.

I can forgive winter for making me sleep in a cocoon of dressing gown, fleecy blankets and duvet, surrounded by hot water bottles. I can even put up with the depressingly grey mornings when it’s terrifying to set a toe out of bed, because the sub-zero temperatures make way for exciting novelties that have been forgotten about amid the tedium of t-shirts and boring in-between weather.

I want drama from my sky. I want heat wave or snowfall, fierce wind or mysterious fog. Much of the time, England’s weather is indecisive – autumn is all showers and breeze and short spells and frosty edges, whereas winter here is executed thoroughly. An everyday family walk could be dull - plodding along, drearily uphill and aimlessly downhill. Winter throws a bit of spice into the mix. She strips the trees to leave hauntingly beautiful skeleton silhouettes and stiffens the grass to give a satisfying creak when we tread. A brisk winter hike gives you a fairytale rosy flush and gets the circulation going. Plus I can gleefully dust off my pea green coat and retrieve my beautiful rainbow scarf and gloves, glad for zero threat of a bizarre socks-and-shorts tan.

When my legs have entirely forgotten the golden brown sunshine feeling of summer, a hot drink is medicine, an antidote to the frost that presses threateningly against the windows. The steam floods my glasses, rendering them opaque, and I sigh with happy anticipation. I am permanently in the mood for a cup of tea and often scarcely have I drained the dregs before the kettle is put on afresh. Winter is a time of banding together, of laughing and of passing around scorching mugs. Hot chocolate anyone?

As the world outside grows darker and colder, the lights inside glow brighter. Ice tightens around the visitors’ cars on the drive whilst indoors songs are sung, food is gobbled and spirits remain high. Everyone’s clothes become more colourful and jolly despite the plummeting temperatures on the streets. We have the ideal excuse to wear ridiculous woolly socks and gorge on casserole and crumble.

When the flurry of red and green festive sparkle dies down, the Christmas presents are thoroughly investigated and the doors are locked – an established custom at home known as the hibernation period. It’s the rest between the relatives, and a brief respite from celebrating the cheer when we can sleep until late and generally indulge.

Winter is my favourite time of year. Last year the snow was so special – and so unusual. Because, lovely as it would be, the weather isn’t always that spectacular. It’s sometimes just an inundation of chilly muddy rain. Hopefully this winter the delicate drifting flakes will be a frequent sight and we’ll get towering mounds of snow again. Then I can wear my wellies and scruffy navy jumper and enjoy snowball fights and snowy sculptures, as well as the other joys that winter brings – glistening turkey, early nights and friends home for the holidays. Oh, and did I mention my birthday is in January?

Jessica

Note from Editor: Congratulations on securing your place at Cambridge University Jessica, thank you for providing an excellent and well-articulated range of articles over the past 3 years. Good luck with your course and I wish you every success for the future. Karyn x

Just Dance - Jessica's column

At 11am on Saturdays there is an odd sound coming from the back room of Breadsall Village Hall; “tap tap bang bang click clack tap.” Anyone who was to venture closer would find a group of girls honing their tap dancing skills, and having piles of fun doing so; it was not, actually, a herd of wildebeest sporting stilettos!

I’ve been going to Starsteppers Dance School in Breadsall for years now, and although we can’t yet rival Britain’s Got Talent’s ‘Diversity’ I’ve made some really close friends and we’ve put on many a stunning show. Tap, with its crisp steps and shiny heeled shoes with polished metal soles, could well be my favourite style of dance. In French it’s called “les claquettes”, a name very appropriate as it serves as a pretty decent description of the neat noises made – ‘clacket clacket.’

Words used to help remember technical steps in dance form their own language. One muttered under the breath of tappers everywhere, is: “shuffle hop spring brush toe toe stamp”. Or in ballet: “first second and back to bras bas.”

I haven’t been doing ballet for very long, but I like how this type of dance slows everything down so you can concentrate much more on the curve of your hands and feet, and the music. Modern jazz dancing, like tap, is excellent because you can put in loads of cheesy enthusiasm, wide toothy grins and go mad. It’s so versatile that practically any kind of music can be used, from some bizarre classical remix to good old pop to give the dance a different vibe.

For me, dance shows are the best bit of dancing. The nerves from performing on a hot bright stage in front of a crowd means that backstage becomes hours of hyper laughter and messing about with new and old friends. Throw in ridiculous, colourful costumes and the necessary over-the-top stage make-up into the mix (blue eyes and red lips!) and you get some very memorable nights, hopefully for both performers and audience!

I often help out teaching the cute 3 and 4 year olds their routines. It’s always clear they’re having a whale of a time rocking out to Ghostbusters and Abba. No one can beat them for enthusiasm, which just goes to show that any and every age should have a bit of a boogie from time to time.

Recently I’ve been trying some more exercise-based dance classes. Derby Dance has an MTV Moves class on Mondays which I’ve gone to a few times where one intricate routine is taught weekly. All different kinds of people go there, but when we’re all following the music together and conquering the same fiddly sequence of moves, some of the self-consciousness melts away, and through a layer of perspiration you find you’re suddenly rather enjoying yourself!

Zumba is a kind of Latin American fitness dancing with lots of hips and shimmying. Despite its exhausting nature, a class I went to on Fridays with my Mum had an unmistakeable party atmosphere. The rhythmic music is so different to anything you’d hear on the radio. It’s like the lively drums echo your racing heartbeat.

Whether you dance to keep fit, make friends, enjoy the music or just for fun, keep on moving. That way, next time you’re at a wedding and the DJ cranks up the volume you can successfully wow (or embarrass) your relatives and forget your worries on the dance floor. All those spectators will wish that they too could relax their inhibitions, and just dance.
Jessica

Jessica's column - In my good books...

It’s 3am and I’ve just noticed the time. Argh! I determinedly fold down the page of my book and try to stop feeling guilty. ‘It’s only 3am, Jessica, I’m sure you won’t be tired tomorrow...’ yeah right. This is the problem with me and books. I read them like I eat packets of biscuits. Each chapter is another sweet chewy circle of joy and I don’t stop consuming until they’re all gone. I sometimes enjoy reading a little fiction before bed, as many do, to give some time for the brain to relax and unwind. I’ll pick a book from my shelves, wriggle under the duvet and start to read… and don’t stop. Oh look, 4 hours have slipped by!

Thankfully I don’t own any of my very favourite books, or these late night reading sessions might occur more frequently. My bookcase is crammed with retired favourites: colourful paperbacks (Jacqueline Wilson was my primary school author of choice), holiday reads and other assorted teen fiction. The school library is the real residence of all my top favourites. To me, a long-awaited book becomes more tempting when it’s wrapped in protective plastic and has a paper record thingy stuck in the front - and it’s free you know! As a lower school student I spent many a lunchtime there with friends, but now I swan in and stagger out again a short while later, somewhat less stylishly, with a healthy stack of books. The librarians are always friendly and helpful, and there’s a book club for all years on Tuesdays where we often read book award nominees.

For years I was slightly put off mainstream books with loads of awards, but then I realised that these books won because they really are fantastic! Take “The Knife of Never Letting Go” by Patrick Ness, as an example. It won the Booktrust Teenage Prize and the Guardian Award, as well as being shortlisted for the Carnegie Medal. I remained sceptical, despite numerous members of the aforementioned book group singing its praises. It was only when I actually got round to checking it out (of the library) did I see what the fuss was about. Patrick Ness’ whole “Chaos Walking” series so far is imaginative and thought-provoking. The third book came out this May. Another incredible trilogy that I’m excited for the conclusion of is “The Hunger Games” by Suzanne Collins. This is action-packed and fascinating fiction at its best. It’s just a shame I have to wait for August 2010!

I love books, especially those that allow me to escape into another world, like lovely fat fantasy series such as “His Dark Materials” by Philip Pullman, Scott Westerfeld’s “Uglies”, “Pretties”, “Specials” and “Extras” - and the one with “Mortal Engines” by Philip Reeve, all set in some enthralling but troubled alternate world. I’m not too picky; I enjoyed the “Twilight” saga by Stephenie Meyer too! Maybe if you’re looking to buy a present for a literary teen I’ve been of some help...

When my family are on holiday or a long car journey, I have become quite the expert at stealthily peering over my younger brother’s shoulder to borrow a bit of his entertainment should I finish my own. There’s nothing wrong with reading below your age every now and again. After all, Ben has reasonable taste; Frank Cottrell Boyce for the win! At the other end of the spectrum is the kind of literature we read in English, like “The Great Gatsby.” Fun too, I guess, apart from the fact we have to read into all the deep meaning and dissect it to death.

Learning to read as a young child is like being given the key to the Tardis. You can go anywhere and do anything. The possibilities just keep on multiplying as you progress from big picture books read by Mum, to ingenious stories and adventures. Just keep turning those pages.
Jessica

Jessica is a regular columnist for All Things Local and currently a sixth form student at Ecclesbourne School, Duffield.