Well, my intention to do more blogging and more communicating in general over half term didn’t entirely go to plan did it?
I should remember to under promise and over perform.
Half term must be dealt with summarily:
We ate lots of food – we went out every day
We saw lots of people.
We had Nana as our house guest.
I Shakespeared three times – Once to see the NT Live reshowing of Hamlet starring Rory Kinnear. So good I saw it live and then again on film. Then to see Joss Whedon’s version of Much Ado About Nothing. Rather lovely – then to see David Tennant as Richard II live on stage in Stratford. I enjoyed myself thoroughly.
I was also booked to see The Beauty Queen of Leenane, a play by epic playwright Martin McDonagh – who I rate very highly. I accidentally double booked this with Oscar’s birthday bash, and Oscar won. I have rebooked to see the play next week. Phew…
There was a whacking great Halloween party. It was a monster. I arrived with three bottles of wine, one bottle of spirits, eight litres of coke, four carved pumpkins, a slow cooker full of chilli and a lot of face paint. I am glad I wasn’t stopped by the police on the way there. There would have been some explaining to do.
We danced until two in the morning. My hips have not recovered. I cannot believe that I used to do that three times a week at one point in my life. To attempt it now would mean certain death.
I was a vampire bee.
Here I am, flying across my bedroom.
Our friend Rob won scariest costume hands down. Nicki, his wife, tells me that I need to devote a whole blog post to the costume.
Frankly I am still mulling it over. There are not enough words – I might have to do it as a Jackie style photo shoot with a variety of facial expressions to sum up everything about the costume fully.
The week went by in a flash.
I feel like I’ve just arrived, saying: ‘I’m ready for my holiday now,’ only to find everyone else has been and gone and come back again, and I’m standing like an idiot with my sun glasses and a beach towel – in the snow.
And now the last slog up to Christmas – eight, long weeks of term to get through with dark, dark afternoons now that the clocks have changed – and lots of enforced joviality looming on the horizon.