Of Death, Tin, Trees & Moles

2 Mar

 Photo courtesy of Spud’s friend on Facebook

Tinman TWoOz 24hr Musical 1

Tinman regretted the tiny costume budget…

Spud is rather busy at the moment.  We missed him as Tinman in The Wizard of Oz.  The students do what’s called a 24-hour musical: they turn up one night, are told what the musical is and what part they’ve been cast in; rehearse through the night and next day; and go on that evening.  It’s a lot of fun and raises money for charity.

We did see him as Happy in Death of a Salesman last week.  The whole production was excellent and the young cast brought real maturity to the performance.  Flora Turnbull as Linda Loman was particularly good.  She’s one to watch.

 Photo courtesy of Spud’s friend on Facebook

DoaS

Happy spots his next victim

The play and Spud got two great reviews.  If you’re interested, you can read them here and here; but I’ll give you the edited highlights:

Tom Williams as the conflicted Biff, and Alex Cosgriff as the overlooked Happy, also deliver outstanding performances as Loman’s two wayward sons. Alex’s comedic timing is exceptional

Laura Elliott, Kettlemag.co.uk

[Happy], the excellent Alex Cosgriff

Matthew Drew, ForgetToday.com

*

Click on the image to find out more 

You may remember how I raved about The Tree of War last September; well, this just in: it has been extended, extra songs added, and is to be staged for a week in September in a bigger venue.  Spud has been asked to reprise his role as Bert; as has Sam Gilliatt as Grev.  You can hear their duet on Soundcloud; as well as an ensemble piece.  Spud is the second voice on the first song and first voice on the second song.*

Spud has had three scripts in his head for the past few weeks – there’s no danger of Alzheimer’s in his old age but his head might explode at some point.    Death of a Salesman finished its run on Saturday night. He got to bed at eight a.m. Sunday and then was up for rehearsals at one for one of the two plays he’s appearing in next weekend.  The university runs an event called Platform, which showcases student plays; Spud is in two of them.  After that, it’s straight into rehearsals for The Wind in the Willows.  He’s playing Mole.

He has managed to fit everything in around his studies (his marks show that he is actually studying) but he doesn’t have much of the typical student life.  I’m glad to say.  No heavy boozing for him, unless it’s the after-show party for Death of a Salesman

Ah, the life of an actor.

Why I’ll Never Leave The Hub

20 Feb

I went out to visit a friend this afternoon; I found this hidden in my laptop when I got back:

Photo by Best DSC!

Photo by Best DSC!

It was a song I’d never heard before.  Read the lyrics when you listen:

What woman in her right mind would willingly give up such a romantic?  

Not me, that’s for sure.

Big Brother Is Watching You…Eat

14 Feb

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0b/Fatmouse.jpg

I download a lot of free books from BookBub.  I strongly recommend it: many – but not all – of the books are self-published and if I’m honest, there’s a lot of dross; but I have discovered some real gems, including the Talented Saga by Sophie Davis, which I absolutely loved.  The first book was free but I bought the next three because I enjoyed it so much.  The whole collection cost me less than £6.50 and I will definitely re-read them; and more than once.

Talented (Talented Saga, #1)

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13466202-talented

Last night I started reading another free download, Gone by Christine Kersey. It’s a YA novel about a teenage girl who runs away from home on a whim; realises her mistake; struggles to get back; and finds herself in a parallel universe, where it is illegal to be fat.  The government sends anyone over the weight limit to F.A.T. camp, forcing them to sell their house to pay for their mandatory treatment.

http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/294/a/4/funny_picture_by_metalmario2345-d5ijd9x.jpg

It’s an okay book but I thought the premise was a little preposterous.  And then I read Sky News this morning: it appears that fat is now a government issue.  The current incumbents, if re-elected in May, propose to strip benefits from anyone deemed obese who refuses to go on a diet.  

You couldn’t make it up.

Or you could; but the real thing is much more frightening.

Please, take a read of the whole Sky News story and tell me what you think.

Happy Birthday, Spud

15 Jan

Spud is nineteen today.  Happy birthday, my little potato cake.

He got there despite all the roasting I’ve given him, half-baked parent that I am. To be fair, though, I never beet him; and I yam a loving mother to my sweet potato.

He’s a chip off the old block because he’s a Golden Wonder to me, and never grates my nerves, fries my beans or sets me boiling.  I’ve done my best to raise a good crop and he hasn’t given me any hasselback, despite the many downright hash browns I’ve made.  We’ve had a lot of fun and latke, that’s for sure; though I sometimes leave him steaming, but that’s no skin off my nose.  Still, I don’t want to be peeling him off the walls.  He is my King Edward, after all; and he who pays the Maris Piper calls the tune.

Well, I’d better go – I hear him gnocching but he can’t come in because I’m typing this.  I don’t want him stewing; that will leave me having to sauté him out and it is his birthday.

Happy birthday, my darling little tater tot.  Here’s a birthday mashup for you:

 

Je Suis Charlie

9 Jan

Sad Paris

*

Kill twelve

Kill thousands

Kill me

Speech must remain free

or there is no democracy

Je suis Charlie

*

*

Happy Christmas!

25 Dec

Everyone is still in bed, snoring away. 

I am downstairs, listening to Christmas carols and eating homemade cold apple pie for breakfast.

I wish you all a lovely day, wherever you are; and thank you for sticking with me even though I have hardly been here.

Happy Christmas, dear readers.  xxx

A-One, A-Poo, A-One-Poo-Wee

15 Dec

This is not the band you are looking for…but last night’s band did play this wonderful piece of music

Last night I went to a brass band concert with my friend Alison.  Brass bands are as vital to celebrating Christmas as chocolates and migraine so I was glad to go.

Alison has been renovating her house, so we called early, for a tour and a brew. She lives some distance from us so the Hub drove me there, and afterwards dropped us off at the hall where the concert was taking place.

Alison dotes on our dogs and asked us to bring them along.  As it had been raining all day we carried them in, to avoid their muddy paws marking her brand new and expensive carpets.  Although the paws weren’t muddy, of course, because the dogs refuse to walk in the rain and had been indoors all day.

The dogs adore Alison, in the purest form of cupboard love there is, because she brings them sausages (cooked especially) and treats whenever she visits.  As soon as they realised the car was heading her way, they whined and cried in slavering excitement.

We had the usual mad-circle run around and hysterical barking (not all of it from the dogs: I told you, she dotes on them) and it was all too much for Molly, who wet herself in joy, right there on the new carpet.  Fortunately, Alison is tolerant of their misdemeanours and assured me that the carpet could take bleach if necessary, and a little excited piddle wouldn’t harm it.  Her husband Pete smiled benignly, as he always does, being the easiest-going man I’ve ever known.

The Hub apologised, ‘It’s our fault; they haven’t been out all day because of the rai…TOBY!  NO!’  All heads whipped around to a perfect view of Toby’s backside, also known as crouching terrier, impending poo.  The Hub grabbed the dog and ran with him for the door, and the rest of us watched the plop-plop-plop of the unstoppable excrement as it carpet bombed the, well, the new carpet (and the couch: the angle at which Toby was snatched up allowing for a sideways trajectory).

Mortified, apologetic but laughing, I cleaned up the mess while the Hub and Toby stood out in the rain in disgrace.  The carpet was easily cleaned and looked none the worse for wear.  The miscreants were allowed back in.

Drama over, we all sat down to relax and drink our tea.  I felt suddenly warm and thought, but I haven’t touched mine yet, when I realised the warmth was not a hot flush if it was emanating from my lap.  I looked down to see Molly, squatting on my knees, doing the longest wee I’ve ever had the misfortune to sit under.

We think she must have seen Toby’s flight and thought she’d be better off with Mum than on the carpet.

If you thought a brass band was loud, you should have heard my scream of horror.  I jumped up, sending Molly flying across the room without the benefit of a Hub hold, and there was complete uproar – most of it from four people laughing uncontrollably, me the loudest.  I had lost it by this point and if I wet my knickers in hysteria, at least no one would know.

Alison gave me a cloth to disinfect my pants; I had a wash; and then sat on her bedroom floor in my sweater, socks and underwear, using her hairdryer on the crotch-soaked jeans because we didn’t have time for me to go home and change before the concert.

I sat in the hall, steaming quietly and stinking of disinfectant-combined-with-Brut (to disguise any unpleasant odour), and got quietly sozzled on a bottle of wine.  

It’s okay; I knew where the toilets were.

 

 

The Jog

notices and reflections in ministry

The Cvillean

The adventures of little read writing Hood

Guernsey Evacuees Oral History

An Overlooked British Evacuation

Janie's Place

Welcome to the Great White North....

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