To Freeze or not To Freeze….

I’m sitting in for Vanessa for two weeks so I have taken this week out to be at home.
It’s been lovely.
All three of us have been here, the daughter and husband have been writing and I’ve been reading and sitting in the garden looking at the flowers.
We have so many different coloured grandmothers bonnets it looks like a real cottage garden, why, the aqui legia vulgaris have even self seeded where I park the car. Nodding purple bonnets next to dusty pink foxgloves and yellow buttercups. I took a photo of them for remembrance.
We are clearing the studio at the end of the garden, the old git started with the pruning and stopped when he found a blackbirds nest. Four little chicks, openmouthed waiting for lunch. We’ve had to steer the cat away. Yesterday they flew off, so no more excuses the man has to get his secateurs out, not a pretty sight.
I’ve done all the things I do when I am at home, get my body fixed and watch telly. Yesterday was our wedding anniversary so we went out.

After a short drive down the hill, left at the station, follow the road round to where the old telephone box used to be, down over the hump, past the pub and right at the little mini roundabout and there were were in Groombrdge’s enchanted Forest. The reason? The Globe had a touring production of HAMLET and one of Jims acting chums was in it.
The set, a simply constructed wooden box with beams and a cast and crew of eleven, entertained a crowd of picnickers. Rugs laid out, more food than the deli aisle in Sainsbury’s, and fizzy white wine from a local brewary. we turned up empty handed, hungry and with out a hamper.
This anniversary couple turned up wearing gentle summer clothes. I had taken a sweater in case. Little did I know the evening would turn into a night so cold we could see Hamlets breath as he lanced at Laertes.
In the interval we raided the boot of my car. I found a stripey sweater from a junk shop, an orange fleece, a burgandy gardening jacket and a blanket. Jim discovered a wooly Peruvian hat that was best meant for Machu Pichu not a garden in East Sussex.
Thank God the interval was fifteen minutes because it took that long for me to stop laughing at my husband of 35 years. He looked like Chief Sitting Bull, under his blanket, with a hint of Atahualpa about him.
The geezer, to the right of us, on his camping chair started to laugh as well although his wife was too busy feeding her sons withj picnic hamburgers and tomtao ketchup. The play was terrific even the peacocks enjoyed it. Every time an actor beat the drum they made a really loud sound, their screeches added to the tension, although at one point, during one of Danes speeches their mewing got a huge laugh.
I always forget how many brilliant lines have come from Hamlet, although this particular Hamlet, diminutive and a bit pretentious didn’t float my boat, the evening did though.
At the end we hobbled to the car, my feet were suffering from frost bite. Then drove to the ‘Junction Inn’ in Groombridge. Dave, the new Irish Landlord answered with
‘Whenever the bar shuts.’ when I asked him what time he closed.
I had a hot chocolate and a bag of dry roasted , Jim downed a bottle of beer and our acting chum had some kind of fruity bottle of juice as he had to drive back to his Travel Lodge in Tonbridge.
The actors life can be a lonely one, ill paid and unforgiving, whenever I watch Shakespeare, especially in the open air, it reminds me that acting really is a vocation cos there’s precious little in it unless you are Mel Gibson (God Rest His Talent) or a member of a very very lucky club. My heart breaks for younguns trying to do it, actually my heart breaks for anybody trying to do it at the moment. Several of my friend are declaring bankruptcy. Its a travesty that the home of the greatest playwrite on earth has 98% unemployment in its ranks.
When we got home I put on furry socks and boots, my thick pyjamas, made a hot cup of good night tea and ate my way through two slices of rye toast, and some little slabs of chocolate. Watched the ‘Apprentice’ – yuk to most of those young ones – and went to bed only to be woken by a small Northern block of ice that decided to use me as a hot water bottle. Thus concluded our 35th year as man and wife, although his freezing cold derrier very nearly started divorce proceedings.
This morning we’ve had intermittant showers and a weak sun struggling to get through. The child is off to London, the husband is off the radar and I’m off the planet.
Two more days of homeostayin then its London Town.