So, it is over, weeks and weeks of learning words, songs, dance steps. Weeks and weeks of not acting my age, just for the sheer hell of it. I finally got my act together for the last night of a 3 night run at the Academy Theatre, last night. Yes, it was hard work, but I enjoyed every minute. Would I do it again? Not this side of Christmas. Here are a few pictures:
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| And Glamour |
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| There is always a nurse! |
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| And football supporters |
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| Not acting our age! |
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| Add caption |
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| Add caption |
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| Sharing a changing room |
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| And Cheeky Men too! Whatever will I do next? I've got a list of things so I'm not going to be bored. Watch this space. |
It is Fathers' Day today, so to celebrate, here is a poem I have written about my Daddy. We are a close family and I loved my Daddy so much. He worked on the railway.
Daddy
I don’t like your whiskers, rough on my
cheek,
or the smell of your breath, that sometimes
reeks
of smoke, or beer, or, on occasion kippers,
and, I hate the stink of your old brown
slippers.
I loathe the stench of your coat even more,
it reminds me of festering garden manure,
it whiffs of paraffin, old painting rags,
that diesel-oil waft of your stop-go flags.
and greasy brill cream in your hair, what’s that?
A sticky slick on the rim of your hat:
flat streaky strands on a shiny smooth dome,
stains on the pillow, globules in your
comb.
Your hands look like you’ve been digging
holes
In the garden, fingers dirty as moles.
But when your shift is over, and you’re
back
like Daddy-bear black with grime from the
track,
and you slip your work-bag onto the floor,
hang your coat on the hook behind the door,
sit at the table, rummage in your pocket,
bring out a bar of Cadbury’s milk
chocolate,
something changes, your fragrance turns sweet,
there are roses, red roses at your feet,
and I smile, you’re no longer a baddy,
all I can smell is my lovely Daddy.
And now I am going to make something hot for tea, the weather is quite cold today, and I need internal warmth.
I will leave this blog with just one more comment. The terrible news of the murder of Jo Cox has really shocked me. A young mother of two, a brilliant politician, and a caring person. The world has lost a very bright spark. RIP Jo Cox.
Talk soon,
Love to all,
Jane x
