I will have to view the prompt slightly differently,in that I hope it wasn’t the last live performance I will see and that I have more theatre, concerts and comedy to see.
It was Macbeth in a field at Buscot Lock. The Touring Theatre Group’s name escapes me for the moment ,but they were all male and had great voices and had no problem portraying their characters.
I love sitting on camp chairs with a small picnic beside me and a plastic beaker of apple juice and watching a different version of my favourite, life unravelling play.
I like to be at the back and move my chair if anyone sits in front of me and I can’t see.I try to get on higher ground.It was a nice evening and I didn’t buy a programme.
Community is not some posh middle class village life view of life. Community is really caring about those around you who you interact with.
Don’t trust badges of award or credits,or multimillion pound charity benefits.Trust the people who help where they can,make people feel better and keep an eye on those less fortunate( not to see what they are up to) but to act as a safety net if things go astray for them.
List the people you admire and look to for advice…
That pureness of thought,that indelible logic,that freedom to query and to investigate the world. These are the people I admire, and if they thought it appropriate to proffer me some advice then of course I would listen.
However,those exchanges would be few and far between.Those “thinkers” care about others and understand that excessive advice giving is detrimental and sometimes harmful to the individual.
In our social media dominated world,advice is everywhere and has to be paid for. We are flooded with recommendations and solutions from the right haircut to how to cope with a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.
So ,obviously,it’s important to be discerning.
What I need are “good thinkers.”There are many of them,but I’m afraid they don’t appear on any lists because by their nature, they are rebels and do not like to be categorised like a research article in a university library.
I shall raise a glass of iced sparkling water (with a slice of lemon) to you, and should you feel it necessary any time you will definitely have my ears.
Recently, we’ve been away on holiday for local council elections and didn’t get around to organising a postal vote.
Today, we were at home and made a political vote for one local Borough Councillor and one Police Comissioner. I voted to the best of my ability.
Didn’t make it up to the polling station until 8.20pm and the photo I’d publicity worked as I brought my drivers licence even though the photo,much like a passport photo,looks pretty scary.I was verified and voted in the funny little booths.
I’m pretty certain it was a pencil to mark my X.Which I thought strange.Suppose they use an eraser to rub my vote out?
I was a late starter when it came to camping and the love of the great outdoors.
I suspect that because there was a hint of gypsy on my mother’s side of the family that she rebelled against carts and tents.She was a four wall and posh dining aficionado and I never really thought much about it until I realised her horror when her progeny delighted in the outdoor gypsy life that she would have rather was dead and buried in her progeny’s genes and that she would never see resurface.
Reality, though, was economics.It was a cheap holiday ,my first with my then boyfriend and now a partner in crime of many years.
Wales was our destination,a camp site beloved by my partner’s family.We were late booking,but we got this lovely flat pitch,away from everyone and with a nice view.
We had bought the tent the previous weekend,it was quite spacious ,although, both of us being quite tall,neither of us were able to stand up in it.Big mistake.
Our first disaster came with putting the poles into the holes to make the structure.There was just far too much tension for the flimsy material.I wasn’t much help because I’d never put up a tent in my whole life.So I watched,concerned that the poles seemed to be stretching the tent material to it’s maximum tension.
It was when I heard the ping and the rip that I realised something was terribly wrong.
“We’ll have to go to a B&B” my partner said .
I was disappointed and volunteered
“Let me see what I can do.”
I had a sewing kit with me and went down to the camp shop where they had some nylon fishing reel thread, which I brought back up.I sewed the piece of material and the repair was good enough to hold.
Over the next few days, a few more pings were heard, and a number of repairs were made,but the tent protected us from the elements and we explored the region and the beautiful mountains and scenery.
It was a fun holiday ,and I’m so had we didn’t have to stay in a B&B.
When we got back home,we went to the camp shop and got a full refund on the old tent and bought a new one that we could stand up in and that the poles were not at such a high tension.
thenotsomightyom 