It's February and drama competition time again. Here we have Chirbury and Marton YFC rehearsing their take on Beyonce's 'All the Single Ladies' as part of their 'entertainment'.
We seemed to get off to quite an early start this year and there were moments when things seemed to be going swimmingly, but now with only two days to go before they tread the boards in Whitchurch's unlovely Civic Hall chaos reigns. Maureen tells me they are ready for an audience. I think they should be locked in a room until lines are learned. Properly. I then remind myself that this isn't the RSC. Chill woman! And remember that Neurofen will ease that aching head.
I've had the usual eye-brow lifting shopping list; a big girl's blouse and tartan skirt for the mighty Harry T who plays Mrs Isabel End; an 'Applause' sign and one which reads 'Moo moo' to summon down 'the bull from above'. (Have I mentioned that the show is called 'Never Mind the Bullcocks'? )
The Glam.Ass has been persuaded to make a scoreboard (Did I mention it's a spoof of a TV Quiz?) and its manufacture is turning into a Production in its own right. It will be the star of the show...say no more. This morning's task is to make the numbers to go on it.
Much of the rest of life is put on hold for the duration of rehearsals - not that I've felt inclined to go outside and make a start on the myriad of garden jobs which are begging to be done. This month so far could be summed up with the words 'fog' and 'mud'. The ground is sodden and we have been in the clouds for 50% of the time. How I long to feel the sun on my back again.
These two turkeys made me smile though. Were they walking to Welshpool - they were certainly heading in that direction.