I feel like I need an adventure. I’m not sure if it’s because at long last I sent off my story to a publisher which always gives me a boost of confidence or because there is such a great atmosphere of success and high spirits at the theatre.
It was a relief to return to some semblance of normality after my week off, although I did have to spend the first hour of Monday morning sorting out the bomb site that was my office. Everything from quad sized posters to performers’ dirty hand towels, it looked like my sons had been in residence for a couple of days. Marketing aka John Puckey, told me he had had to chase after some of my paperwork that flew out of the office win
Sometimes you just have to throw in the towel and surrender to a greater power; which is why I didn’t update my blog last week and why today I had to make a sad decision. But let me tell you about my working week first.
There are some weeks I enjoy then there are others I really enjoy and this past week falls into the latter category.
It’s been a week of writing, research and reporting; not for the first time have I wondered why I didn’t pursue a career in journalism but thereby hangs another tale…if ifs and ands were pots and pans.
The summer of ’76, that’s the hottest summer on record, that could well be until the summer of ’18 which is proving to be blisteringly warm, it has been more than a little tempting to go for a quick dip, but there has, as always, been masses going on and to add to the mix we’ve had a work experience girl with us.
Theatre. It takes you away from your world into a whole new place where the every-day you is put to one side to allow the other ‘you’ some freedom of expression.
Mine was a bit of a ‘Yorkie’ week – plenty to get my teeth into and very chunky and it started with high hopes of being able to shed my winter garb when the Met Office forecast a heatwave.
There’s one thing for sure when it comes to the diverse range of activities that go on at the Marine Theatre, no sooner has your day begun than it suddenly comes to an end; the days literally fly by. But
Things don’t always go to plan and Robert Burns’ poem to a mouse sums it up so perfectly; more often than not misquoted, the meaning is clear The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft agley I predicted a hung
When you live in a beautiful place like Lyme Regis you have to accept there is an occasional minor downside; during the holiday season, everyone who doesn’t live nearby descends on this small seaside resort and the population, vehicle and coach