My life as a prima ballerina was short. Age five, ballet class recital. Mother and dancer aunt in audience. Rather than flitter about the stage in my too tight TuTu, I sat down on the stage and fellow dancers had to move around me or fall over me, which a few did. End of career. I planted a passion flower vine this spring and it has produced exactly one flower-pictured above-dressed in what I’d call a very pretty tutu.
