Friday, 27 January 2012

On the fringe

It's been a funny old month.  But then January usually is. Christmas is over, and try as hard as we might it seems difficult to really get 2012 into gear.  It can't be that the snow has slowed us down.  There hasn't been any in these here parts.  It can't be because work is slow.  It's frantic.  It can't be because of lack of opportunity.  there are plenty of things to get my teeth into.   I even wanted to go and see the 'comedy' Sherlock Holmes in Soho...and despite an impressive prompt, we simply forgot (I'm really, really sorry).   It can't be because we are slumped in moribund depression.  We have lots to celebrate.  But we have for certain caught Auntie Gwen's 'Can't be arsed' gene.  Getting out of bed in the morning is practically impossible.  I'm sure it's darker when we wake up than when we go to bed.Hopefully with February just around the corner the pace of life will pick up.  This week in anticipation, and despite heavy frost on the ground, I cycled to the office twice.  Surely a sign that energy levels are returning?

Once upon a time I had more shoes than any man I know.  I can't remember the exact number, but it was at least 42.  That's pairs, not individual shoes.  So I've been vaguely amused to find that suddenly I have no black work shoes to wear.  Every one has a hole in the sole, which means that this week as the rain has poured my feet have got soaked.  We still have a local cobbler in Bermondsey..nice folks - support Millwall and their politics are probably entirely red and white - and proper locals.  For any local shop times have been hard as the chains have moved in, so I'm very happy to give them my support when I can.  I could see his eyes light up when I turned up with my six pairs of shoes.  They're done and done well now.  And I hope he has a lovely weekend.

I may have to eat my words. I may have been rash spouting off about Scottish independence.  Ridiculous as it is.  My tongue may have been sharper than it should.

The stage is The Cat's one great love.  She's doing drama As level, succeeded in joining the National Youth Theatre and performing on the South Bank last year.  She can sing you every Sondheim song he has ever written, and has gone to more plays in the West End than any other teenager I know.  The Boy is also a great performer.  He has a real talent for acting...and his performance in the school's production of Gogol's The Government Inspector is still talked about two years after he had the lead role.  He has other interests though so doesn't live his every waking moment thinking of the stage.  So two different teenagers, each talented.

The school has decided to take a production up to The Edinburgh Fringe and both the offspring auditioned.  They both auditioned for roles.  They have both been chosen for lead roles.  The Cat's Mother and I are over the moon.  The kids are too.  We'll be heading north of Hadrian's Wall.  Knowing The Cat's Mother, we'll be taking a coach load of supporters.  Tonight we will celebrate.