A text

I'm sorry - I haven't anywhere else to store this, and it's moved me intensely...

"Your body and your company bring me such joy. x"

The Play's the Thing (ll) - extract from an email to a friend

"The play is going extremely well, and I've nearly stopped trying to walk through the scenery. I play her as a very stiff upper lipped, rather dim woman, who cracks in her last speech - and then dies! A small part, but mine own. A really funny thing happened on Tuesday, which is before an invited audience of old people from a couple of homes (god kill me off before I get to that state, please). The actress who plays my daughter came on in one scene, when she isn't meant to. I hadn't seen her behind me, and after talking to the other character, I'm meant to sit down, semi-backing up to my chair. In mid squat, I see she's on this chair, have to lurch upright again, and carry on. Meanwhile, she can't get off the stage, and nips on to another chair and ends up as a gooseberry in this tete a tete, grinning idiotically between the two of us. I had this ghastly feeling I was doing the wrong scene, but as the other character was responding, I thought well, I might as well carry on - cos there was nothing else to be done. Eventually, it's my exit, and the other actress scuttles off behind me, and we have to collapse silently behind the set, screaming with soundless laughter."

Condomaniac

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Death rehearsal

Overheard:

"I'm going to a rehearsal for my funeral - black horses, and all that. I'm going to wave from the coffin...."

If I put the title I wanted to put here, it would give the punchline away.

A friend of mine teaches English in a prison. The other day, he was explaining the meaning of the word 'smuggler'.

Up jumps one of his students. "I'm a smuggler!" he declares.

"No!" shouts another. "I'm a smuggler!"

By this time, third and fourth prisoners had joined in: "WE are smugglers!!" - all vying for the all-important title.

A Spartacus moment. No need to wonder why they were incarcerated.

Finn the dog

My elderly black labrador has been to the vet this week. For quite a while he's had a rather revolting lump on his bottom. Nope, sorry, there's no way of making this sound nice. Anyway, I'd had it checked some time ago, it wasn't causing him any problems, but it did rather offend human sensibilities.

Well, it had gradually been getting bigger, so this week he was reluctantly pushed through the vet's door, anaesthetised and his bottom sorted out. Usual vet stuff when I collected him - the bill was a miracle of added value - what started out as a quote for £180 has ended up at nearly £300. And that was already having avoided the chest x-ray and the lump analysis costs.. (Why do vets always make you feel guilty for obviously not caring for your pet to the nth degree by subjecting him to every known procedure?).

Anyway, Finn was OK, apart from looking rather groggy and sporting a huge white ruff collar, which he's still wearing. Visually, I'm glad he's had this done, and for his sake, too, as it was starting to cause him trouble. Even without the (expensive) lab report, I know the lump is cancerous and will probably return, but he's 11, nearly 12, which is old for a lab.

(This next bit isn't for the delicate)

I now have to clean his bottom. Joy. And he's farting horribly. Sorry about that.

The play's the thing!

Sorry I haven't written here for a little while. It's not that nothing's happened, in fact, quite the reverse. I'm thesping all next week - Lady Marchmain, no less, in Brideshead Revisited. It's the 60th anniversary of the founding of St John's Players.

I've always loved this hi-fallutin' name - so pompous, so resonant of Elizabethan troupes of actors, so fitting for the 20s prefab that is our Village Hall..

(Ooo, I forgot, it's all been revamped recently - we now have a bar, a monster telly for the sports fiends, and carpet. And let's not forget, the dressing room facilities - once a musty room with holey lino over what I think was little more than bare earth. Now - a musty room with bare concrete floor - it's the cleaning cupboard...)

Anyway, I've been learning my lines, and I'm feeling rather pleased with myself - I know all my words! Just not necessarily in the right order ... I've developed such a clipped, 20s upper clarss, eccent. And instead of sitting hunched like a little gnome over the laptop, I've straightened my shoulders, gaining a full extra 1/4" in height. Lady M is a rather foolish old woman, living in her own little world of religious fantasy. Hmm, not typecasting yet again, minus the religion, eh?

Wish me luck for next week, will you? By that time, I'm going to have to walk, talk and avoid the myriad of chairs that litter the stage. My final bow and acceptance of rapturous applause is my best bit - eyes and teeth, darlings, eyes and teeth. And ja-azz hands! Yeah!!

I can't make a sidebar link, but HE-ERE'S CHILE!!!!

http://achiletale.blogspot.com/

The photo thief is at it again ..

This is my lovely eldest grandson, Zia, who was 10 a couple of days ago. He loves dogs .....

Murder, mutilation and extreme violence - and it's encouraged!!!

Stressed? Pent-up? Need to vent your anger?

So did I!!

Then I went to a Kendo evening - and learnt how to split a head open with a sword, cut off a hand, disembowel and in case none of the above had done the trick, spearing through the throat. Lovely! And all the while screeching 'Me-ennnnnnnnnnnnnnn!' on a dying crescendo, galloping past the victim, barging him for good measure on the way through.

The intro was attended by fifty young male students, a handful of young female students, and one somewhat older woman in rimless spex....

A small tip here for the ladies - especially those who've had four children - make sure you go to the loo before you start - and then go again, just to make sure... Oh, and don't wear a tight pair of pedal pushers, nor, for the fuller-bosomed, a less-than-supportive pretty bra ...

So - I can't start the beginners' class straight away, as practice is on the same evenings as my drama group rehearsals, but maybe after Christmas I too can dress in a baggy blue dressing gown, breastplate, genital apron and that cool head cage with wings ... oh, and maybe learn to stop ducking down after I whack.. not cool!

Thank you letter - the Soho pub crawl - what happened next ....

.... You missed the best bit though - watching this fuddled ole gel accosting random peeps throughout the tube - I nearly made the train fare in spare coppers, till the non-metallic variety moved me on - and all I was doing - I think - was trying to get to Kings Cross. 'Kingsbleedingcross, dear? Oh, you need the blah blah blah .. then take the blah blah blah ...' God! I was nearly sober by the time I got there! Someone did gimme a kick on the train, but I have a vague idea it was because I might have dribbled down his shoulder as I slept...

Anyway, wibble wibble wobble all the way home, a mile every 10 minutes on the bike. Winner of the slow bicycle race!!

Happy (hick) weekend, R*****s dear!

I have a brand new grandson

This is Thomas, weighing in at 10 lbs 7 oz, born on 2 October 2007