It’s been late nights and early mornings for me along with a full-on day in between. The trouble with those kind of weeks is that time literally flies by. When I updated my calendar I suddenly realised we were half way through March and I hadn’t achieved my monthly target.
I can remember when my sons were around 5 and 8 years old apiece I determined to do at least one interesting thing per month; I’m not talking reading a book kind of thing, which of course is always interesting, no, I’m talking major stuff like watching the changing of the guards in London or climbing Ben Nevis. I think I managed to keep it going for around 3 months before it fizzled out.
investigative journalism, the sort I love
My sons are now 15 and 18 and no longer interested in their mother’s suggestions, so this year I’m doing the same but for me and so far so good: January I started swimming once a week and February I started to improve my school-girl French. For March I’ve been commissioned to write a feature article that involves some investigative journalism, the sort I love.
The Marine Duty Manager, a bit like Tom Hiddleston’s characgter
Anyway, going back to my long days, it reached the point where I had to call on Tom, the theatre Duty Manager, to help out. It was either that or setting up a camp bed in the dressing room. The Marine Duty Manager; a bit like Tom Hiddleston’s character the ‘Night Manager’ only not as glamorous and there aren’t usually any terrorists involved, except maybe pretend ones.
Talking of dressing rooms, ours took on a whole new raison d‘être when one of our wonderful volunteers agreed to help out marketing and varnish our new theatre signs. We needed somewhere to store the wooden panels whilst they dried and the bigger of the two rooms was just the right size to accommodate the two boards. Luckily our schedule was clear for a couple of days.
We had a Bassetts mixture of weather and on one of my early mornings when I was standing at the back of the theatre that has a fantastic view over to Charmouth and Golden Cap, I couldn’t help but just stand there watch and listen as the sea washed over the shingle beach. The combination of a beautiful golden sunrise and the sound of the ebb and flo of the tide making the shingle rustle and chatter in hushed tones was mesmerising.
Gareth hit us with all his might
Turns out this was very much the calm before the storm as Gareth hit us with all his might bringing high winds and equally high waves that crashed into and over the Cobb. There really is never a dull day on this part of the Jurassic coast.
Meanwhile I suffered a bad reaction to a quick meal I made for number 2 son and myself. It seems I can’t tolerate spicy food but with late nights come quick food fixes when it comes to an easy supper, this time in the form of sweet & sour pork (using up the leftovers from the Sunday roast). But half way through wolfing it down (the long days also mean I am ravenous when I get in from work) I recognised the tell-tale signs that I was eating something I shouldn’t be which is what I put my croaky throat and general grotty feeling down to for much of the week…“it’s not a cold, it’s an allergy” I said with as much conviction as I could manage between coughs. But it did give me a very glamorous husky Hollywood voice that threw a few people when I answered the phone.
is anyone around here who feels the need to stab me in the back
I was annoyed at myself for missing the Ides of March first thing Friday morning, after all, where better to give this wonderful Shakespearean warning than in one of the UK’s most unique theatres, not that I hope there is anyone around here who feels the need to stab me in the back, but I took heed of the great bard and frequently looked over my shoulder.
Anyway I reached the end of the week without a knife in my back and our new ‘Marine Theatre’ sign was put in situ, all I need to do now is shift this allergy and decide what target I have for April given it will be here any second.