290. Game of Thrones
If ever a plumber was needed
in the town,
the people said, “Send for
Mrs Plug!
And if ever a class of mixed infants is in need of winning over, I would also recommend sending for Mrs Plug.
278. The Phantom of the Theatre…
“In those days, there was usually an intermission between each act during which the audience – and the actors – would get refreshments. One night, the great actor Edmund Kean was giving his Hamlet but by the end of the fourth interval found himself so refreshed that he couldn’t remember Act V. He could, however, remember Act V of Lear – which he’d done the previous week – so they did that instead.”
274. I like big butts and I cannot lie…
It’s going to rain tomorrow: storms, they’ve promised storms. A real proper-promise with little pictures of thunderbolts and lightening, very very frightening me, Galileo, galileo . .. Actually, can you have a picture of Thunder? Whatever – they’ve promised storms.
Which will be very welcome because here in London it’s been toasty warm of late. What’s that? Passed you by, did it? Easy to miss, I know; hardly been on the news at all. I’m writing this in the garden, in the dark, at ten o’clock at night; inside it’s still thirty degrees. But that’s ok because tomorrow, it rains.
On which basis, ActorLaddie and I have been addressing our butts in preparation for said promised rainstorm.
265. Welcome, March, with wint’ry wind –
It’s March the first, hey nonny no, and my muse, like my garden, is frozen.
I made a bash this morning at a blog on the theme of snowy days in school which inched towards the spell-binding conclusion that children like snow and cleaners don’t. So if today is cold and miserable, well – at least I spared you that.
So I’m going to palm you off with some pictures of our most recent visitor. Stay warm, stay safe; speak soon.
259. The mystery of the Vanished Blog…
Act 1 Scene 1: A partially decorated living room in North London; crammed with furniture. Evening. There is a large picture window at the back. Empty mugs show evidence of recent human activity.
Off stage, a phone is heard ringing. It switches to answerphone.
Ma: (off stage) Just wondering if you were home yet.
Pause
Ma: (off stage) Hope you’ve had a good weekend.
Pause
Ma: (off stage) Haven’t seen a blog recently.
Pause
Ma: (off stage) Catch you when you’re back then.
Curtain.
Programme Notes.
Meanwhile, in Salisbury, ActorLaddie and I are bunking off the endless decorating to see a friend performing at the Playhouse. We’ve shoved the furniture from the end of the room we haven’t done into the end that we have; the painting stuff has been left out in case any wandering elves have had a spare minute.
The Airbnb is rather wonderful – look:
It’s run by a hearty woman with dogs who shows us to our room up a rather splendid staircase: Escher would have liked this one.
Salisbury is gorgeous in the crisp Autumn sunlight. I’ve not been before, though ActorLaddie played here on a tour ages ago.
I’m awestruck by the Cathedral: apparently the main section took only thirty eight years to build – from 1220 to 1258. How the blazes something this spectacular was built at that time is beyond my comprehension. AND they managed to keep up to date with their blogs. One can only look and wonder.
Inside, there’s a Chapter House built to house a 1215 copy of the Magna Carta. The room has a frieze of stories from Genesis. The guide, Chris, pointed out his favourite section: the sculptor had been tasked with showing the Pharoah driving his chariot into the Red Sea, in pursuit of Moses. Clearly having no idea what a Pharoah or a chariot might resemble, he gives us instead a rather splendid farmyard cart. Can you spot it?
Patrons are now asked to leave this blog quietly, so as not to disturb the sunset.
For your own safety, you are particularly asked to pay attention to this warning on the reverse of one of Nante’s bog-standard, badgeless birthday card.
240. They go up diddley-up up; they go down diddley down down…
Pick us, Miss, pick us! Look how neatly we have lidded our marker pens! And see our flip-chart of ideas – a thing of beauty, too, in many colours, to which we all contributed collaboratively, working as a team…
Apart, that is, for the cow who teaches at – well, you know the one. Her anyway. Didn’t want to come on the course in the first place. Thought ‘Schemas in the Under Sevens’ was going to be about curriculum plans and not fannying around with a load of bricks. The only thing that’s stopping her playing with a mobile phone is that they’ve not yet been invented. We’d be better off teaching six year olds to name parts of speech, according to her. What a dinosaur!
239. Um…
“The thing is, before I retired, I used to rush around on a Sunday trying to get everything done. But I’m finding now that I say ‘I’ll do this, that and the other tomorrow’ and do something else instead. Then whatever it was never gets done. Do you find that?”
238. One of these things is not like the others…
I’d popped into Lidl’s really for some packets of herb seeds. I’ll not say this too loudly, at risk of causing a stampede – we’re not too far from the site of the Great Ikea Riot of 2005 – but you can get a packet of parsley seeds for just 49p in Lidl’s. I know, amazing isn’t it! And then I spotted a packet of Mixed Annuals.
The Jelly Chronicles 