High culture and invertebrates where they shouldn't be
A good sleep, under heavy covers, which make you feel secure. Lorraine brought me a cup of tea in bed, and we got up to have a lovely breakfast. Felt much rested after last night. Lots of chatting this morning, then off in John's car to Stratford. Many of the fields containing giant pond sized puddles, after recent flooding here, and the flowing water in the Avon and other streams we saw was high in the banks. They had been cut off in their village recently. To Stratford, where we saw a play, called A Museum in Baghdad. I am pleased we saw it. At best it was an ambitious meditation on time and identity with characters in two time frames on the same stage attempting to preserve Iraqi archeological treasures. But despite the performances being fine, it didn't really work for us. I felt the script needed a hard edit, and the play told you things rather then demonstrate them. Like for example when one character says to another ‘You’re angry!’ by way of helpful exposit...