This is the Traktor Shed!
Top DJs gave their eye teeth at this, the most astounding of venues at Kimberley. for a slot on the rip roaring Saturday nights. Jake and I fervently continued to spend our retirement at these 3 day festivals plus other parties. We would emerge with other revellers, from the head swirling cellars (described in last blog) into the mass of heaving humanity packed into the Traktor Shed, always decorated and lit up spectacularly, and dance to the mesmerizing beats of the Traktor Shed DJs including Ben Taylor and his brother Matt
And the aptly named Traktorgirl below, spinning her amazing magic.
Jake and I continued to have a ball. Kimberley was the best place to practise my burgeoning flirting skills. What was great was that the more Jake and I flirted, the more people hit on us. We continued being feted as the Golden Oldies (as described in the first blog). As well as loving flirting with us, people adored how we had fun together and flirted with each other. They said it gave them hope for the future.
One of the tasks I found myself carrying out was teaching my friends’ sons how to flirt. It is a role I love to fulfil and young men need it! I was happily flirting with one who was 18, when one of his mates came up looking rather gorgeous, so of course I flirted with him too. I asked him how old he was, expecting him to say 20 or something like that. ‘Forty,’ he said. ‘Forty!’ I screeched. ‘That is far too old to be my toyboy!’ He looked really dejected. ‘How old do I have to be to be your toyboy?’ ‘Under forty, I’m afraid’ I had just stumbled upon one of the best chat up lines ever, for an ageing floozy in her 60s. I ask a good looking young man how old he is. Whatever he says, eg 30, I always say, my toyboys have to be under that age. As a result I have a coterie of eager young men following me about, hoping I will change my mind.
I loved all the different themes and colours at the Kimberley festivals (2008 silver and turquoise, 2009, red, 2010 green and 2011 blue) I began making costumes, hats and headdresses which became a wonderful and creative past time. Certainly beat joining the WI. We also took our families along.
In the Green Year we took son Joe and daughter Sophi.
In my last blog I described how important a role model Poonie was for me. She was an example of a happily married woman who could flirt outrageously and did so with my husband. The red year was brilliant, as Poonie, looking illustrious and gorgeous as ever, organized a bunch of women (me included) to dress up in skimpy red nurses’ outfits and pile into the back of a red ambulance. We all had plastic syringes which we loaded with wine in the presence of the Buddha in the walled garden. Poonie is on the far left, me right.
Syringes in hand we piled into the ambulance and with sirens blaring, were driven to the big Kimberley front lawn where everyone was gathering for the group photograph. On arrival, we nurses jumped out and grabbed a man and started squirting wine down his throat. My husband was a very happy recipient of the ministrations of Nurse Poonie.
So Kimberley was like a giant playground for having fun, frolicking and in my case, experimenting with flirting . At times I felt at a great disadvantage, as there were so many beautiful young women, like this young goddess in green. What chance did I, a grandmother in her 60s, have?? I would go up to many men and say ‘Do you think I look like mutton dressed as lamb? Am I an aging embarrassment?’ All of them without exception, seemed to appreciate me and I never felt patronised. In the book I have written, ‘Sexy at 70 -a spiritual quest’ I describe the battle I fought within myself, to really own my sexuality and not succumb to the rafts of inner put downs that assailed me from all directions. It has taken me a lot of courage to come out, as sexy at 70- to have the sheer gumption to do it.
One evening in the Tractor Shed, I spotted a young man who was so classically gorgeous, I nearly swooned. I went up to him said, ‘Wow you are so hot!’ He gulped and said ‘Er..this is my wife’, who was dancing with him. I didn’t miss a beat, turned to her and said, ‘Congratulations on landing such a sexy husband.’ and danced with them both. She loved my forthrightness and I began to be followed by a coterie of young women who all said. ‘I want to be like you when I am your age’. Later on I saw her husband again, and said ‘you are by far the hottest young guy here.’
He looked at me sincerely and said, ‘that is a huge compliment coming from a woman like you.’ I felt acknowledged by that.
What I was discovering was that when you boil it right down, flirting is a declaration of appreciation of the beauty and sexiness of another (either male or female) and can be a clear, lovely energy that is healing.