So I Went to a Ball at the Castle

I'm pretty sure that if every girl had a bucket list, going to a ball at a castle would be on it.  In fact, I'm going to write out my bucket list tonight, just so I can have the little thrill of crossing that one off!

 The European Dental Command celebrated 100 years of the Army Dental Corps at the Heidelberg castle, and kindly invited Sir to offer the opening prayer.

You'd expect it to be magical.  It pretty much was.

I can tell you for sure, though, that princesses and duchesses and the like absolutely must have some serious ankle strength, because cobblestones and delicate high heels do not play well together. 

The Dental folks were amazing.  They arranged for buses to take us from post up the winding, narrow way(you know, narrow doesn't even begin to describe the terrifying angles of ascent the road up that  mountain)  almost to the castle ruins.  We stumbled and grabbed wildly at the arms of our escorts gracefully picked our way with dainty steps through stone archways and past buildings from the 1200s.  Apparently the carpenter's tool called The Level ( you know that thing with the little yellow bubble?) was not invented at any time during the construction, surviving of natural disasters, lightning strikes, war, neglect, ruin and attempts at rebuilding this magnificent collection of structures.     We hobbled glided magically down, then up, then down again to a huge stone balcony, where a champagne reception and stunning views awaited us.

Yep, cannons, check.  Moats, check.  Those things that look like a 2-foot-tall keyhole in a thick wall of stone, which are for sticking your big gun out to defend the king?  Check.  Stained glass windows in shapes and quality to take your breath away?  Check.

Statues, carvings, flags, breathtaking views of history?  Check.  The world's largest wine keg which I didn't get a photo of because I was using both hands to cling to rugged stone walls in order to remain upright and no it had nothing to do with champagne and everything to do with balancing on four inch heels with the athletic skills inherited from my mother?  Check.

Look at the door in the photo above.  They actually carved a door within the huge original doors!  From the balcony reception, we went down this path, through the cellar, and up several flights of stone stairs to the ballroom, where the tables were set with white linens for 375 guests.  Two were especially notable; one was our keynote speaker, a very distinguished retired general who knows the entire history of the army dental corps and gave a fascinating speech with absolutely no notes whatsoever.  So impressive, and a friendly, funny man.  It was an honor to meet him.  Another was a British general, dressed in his finest, which, with all due respect, included enough gold braid to hang every curtain Scarlett O'Hara ever dreamed of, and real silver spurs on his shoes.  They gleamed.  He was dignified, classy, and oh yeah....he's the Queen's Dental Surgeon.  Like if the Queen had a dental emergency he would have had to depart in the middle of his delicious chicken dinner.    He had a gold signet pinky ring.  Not many men can pull that off.

Once in a while Dude loosens up and smiles.  My handsome prince.

 Yes, I hiked up my skirts so they wouldn't be tattered to death by the rough stones, and YES, I forgot to tug them back down before the photo above.  Sue me.

While we're on the subject of my impeccable appearance, I will totally admit that under cover of darkness, as we whisked ourselves out a side door and across a courtyard and up a hill and down a hill to the bus going back to reality, I shed my dancing slippers faster than you can say "goodbye forever, sparklies" and skipped barefoot all the way home.  It was much faster and less hazardous, and Sir was grateful to have his escort arm remain in its socket.

And they lived happily ever after.