Sunday, May 21, 2017


A slow start. But eventually up to make breakfast. Rosie arrived as I was grilling things with a small dog called Ivor, which was Shitzu cross. I suggested it was crossed with a disappointing circus. Cats unimpressed.

Out and doing some gardening, I cut the ivy hedge, which made my nose stream, mowed our tiny lawn and Lorraine and I pulled up a few weeds and tidied up generally and discussed things we’d like to do in the garden if only we had time.

 Then off to the Duke of Welly, where we had our traditional rehearsal room where, armed with a camera and new tripod, we shot some bits for Beth’s show reel and possibly to turn into some kind of advertising for the Edinburgh show, which is all too soon. While there I got the migraine spangles, but after 20 minutes of messed up vision, felt not to much the worse for wear. So much so that after we left the pub garden, populated by a girl with blue hair and fishbelly white skin, Lorraine and I walked back, and stopped by the Shahi, and had an early dinner, with the sun falling into the restaurant, and we both felt summery and cheerful. Home to gird our loins for the final push next week.

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