learning to cartwheel

I had somehow managed to make it to the age of fifteen years and eight months without knowing how to cartwheel. Oh, I would cartwheel mentally whenever I was particularly happy about something, but I was never able to actually do it. So I did what any normal person would do: I added learn how to cartwheel on my bucket list. (Which was actually the only thing on my bucket list. Aren't you glad I have high goals in life?)

My eight year old sister is the queen of cartwheeling. She is seriously one of the best I've ever seen (you can check out this video if you want to see her in action). She cartwheels all day, every day--down the hallways, in the front yard, in the backyard, on the trampoline, at karate, at ballet...you get the picture.

One night in late spring, after the dinner dishes were washed and the table cleared, she lead me to the golden light filtering through the backyard, determined to teach me once and for all how to cartwheel. We stayed out there for well over an hour. I repeatedly fell and made an all around fool of myself while my sister coached and cheered my on in between those perfect cartwheels of hers. By the time it was dark, my cartwheeling skills were nowhere near perfect, but they were much better than they had been earlier in the day. We practiced every day that week, and while my cartwheels are still nowhere as perfect as my sister's, I can do them. No longer am I the fifteen year old who can't cartwheel, but I am the fifteen year old who just learned how to cartwheel--and who checked off the one and only item on her bucket list.

I wonder what my next goal will be?

much love,
carlotta