One man, two mistresses! Am I a music snob?

Friday 23^rd May.

One man two mistresses (well, three if you count Mum as well).

I have seen this as the original Goldoni play in a ‘straight’ translation when I was an undergraduate and I found it very funny then, this newer version is equally as hilarious perhaps even more so. I was really pleased that James Cordon wasn’t in the cast for the tour, though, as I find him thoroughly unconvincing as an actor. However the guy playing the servant was brilliant, Gavin Spokes I think. (Mum snagged my programme!)

I hadn’t realised our show was the beginning of a much longer tour around the country, that may be why it seemed really fresh and exciting. There were masses of really good laugh out loud until your sides ached moments, especially the falling down the stairs waiter - who had the house in stitches. I thought it was a wonderful variation of Victoria Wood’s Mrs Overall, as a waitress sketch, which worked really well because of the repetition. I thought Rachel, played by Alicia Davies, was the best of the bunch.

I fear the people of Sheffield will have missed an absolute treat as the majority seem to think the “theatre” is only for toffs or clever people. This farce certainly beats anything they would have seen on TV by miles. The physical comedy was brilliant and the wit of the one-liners and the supposed improvisations with the audience were a joy to behold. Just don’t sit on the front row of any production!

Mum and Laura thought it was an absolute hoot and well worth going to see. If this doesn’t revitalise Laura’s spirits for her first exam next Wednesday I don’t know what will! [Not that her spirits are down but you always appreciate being taken out of yourself, don’t you?]

The rest of the day was pretty much as usual, with dog walking and then swimming first thing, then off to the Uni for 8.45. It seemed quite deserted at the moment we’d arrived, or maybe that was just my imagination. Feli and I did more work on the inventory document and then we sorted out the logistics for the trip to Tewksbury and finally we adjourned to the local pub for a sandwich and chips with Laura, she brought one of her fellow maths bods along and we delighted in teasing her about what Feli and I did.

We'd met Mum at the theatre (in the bar as usual) and she had another moan about Dad and Louisa. I guess that Christmas time won’t come fast enough for the blossoming step-mum and Dad. It would be pretty dreadful if the sprog was born on Christmas day though, wouldn’t it.

Saturday May 24^th.

Quite a relaxing day all in all.

After the early dog walk and swim (where we told Sarah she just had to try and see the play) we had breakfast and then zoomed into the Peak District. We spent some time dodging the showers for a scrabble about on the rocks at Burbage this morning. When the rains did fall we decamped to Mum’s to cadge lunch but she was out! That was a blow and a half. I toyed with phoning her to see where she was but that seemed too much like a role reversal for me to actually do it. Still, we managed to struggle to my little house before the hunger pangs became too unbearable.

After lunch Laura went up to the study and revised some more Fluid Mechanics and I set about making some crumbles with apples and then rhubarb. I did four altogether, two of each. We ate one with our evening meal and I froze the rest when they had cooled.

Laura was at Dominic’s again this evening so I drove her down in the car just in case we had more rain. We didn’t. I spent the evening moping about, not finding the inclination to sit and settle to anything at all. I read some of my new book (Jo Nesbo); I played the Baroque CD I had bought form Japan; I put a few stitches into my embroidery, I sat in the fading light of our conservatory watching the long descent of evening and I even challenged the computer to scrabble. It won! I don’t know why I was so restless, I just was.

As the rain had held off for most of the night I decided that I’d walk down to the restaurant with Callie, as her last walk of the day, that way I wouldn’t have to go out again with her when we got home. She decided to jump into Coumes Brook for some unexplained canine reason, the daft dog! Dominic was pleased to see me but wouldn’t let me and a drenched pup into the building. I don’t blame him really.

As we strolled back home the clouds above us seemed to be massing over our particular heads and we were only halfway up the lane when they gave us an brilliant imitation of an Australian downpour. We were soaked in seconds. I do mean literally soaked right through to the skin! To avoid wetting the kitchen floor too much we stripped to our undies in the conservatory (hopefully we didn’t give old Ken, next door, a heart attack) then we stepped into the shower to warm ourselves up and get a bit frisky together.

Sunday May 25^th.

It seemed unusual for there to be a concert at the City Hall on a Sunday but who am I to argue with the booking policy of the place (or the availability of the Halle Orchestra)? Today’s was the last concert in the International Concert series, which we have attended since last September. They have been a brilliant series of shows which we thoroughly enjoyed and it gave us a huge range of pieces of interest. Last night’s (it’s now Monday BTW) was no exception; a series of American pieces which, perhaps, tried to prove that America isn’t a third rate nation when it comes to Classical Music. In this regard it failed miserably, IMHO, with the exception of the Ginastera Harp Concerto but he doesn’t really count, being Argentinian rather than American.

I may be old fashioned in my musical tastes but I was unconvinced by the works on offer at the City Hall: BERNSTEIN Overture: Wonderful Town; COPLAND Rodeo: Dance Episodes; GINASTERA Harp Concerto; BERNSTEIN West Side Story: Symphonic Dances and GERSHWIN An American in Paris. To my ears, attuned to the delights of Parsifal or Miserere these pieces were mere flim flam and had little in the way of depth or feeling – especially the Bernstein. This was basically music for the Classic FM listener, not a Radio 3 addict’s choice at all.

My young friend and lover, Laura, told me I was being a Music Snob when I expounded these remarks but I am sticking to my guns on this. Even Mrs Briggs, who we met at the interval, as usual, was of the opinion I was being a little too harsh in my criticism. I went on to bemoan the dumbing down of the Proms last year with the bloody Dr Who prom and the Cinema prom. I don’t think I won any converts to my cause.

Despite my lack of appreciation for the works themselves, the musicianship on display was, once again, excellent and you can’t fault the orchestra for being given the task of trying to make silk purses out of these poor pieces. OK, I loved the harp playing and I may try and buy a copy of the Ginastera but the rest of them won’t be forming part of my collection any time soon.

One thing I did do during the day which will meet with lots of approval was getting tickets for “Hetty Feather” at the Crucible in June. I checked with Phil and Jane first and they could see no reason why Peter and Angela can’t come down and see the show in Sheffield with their mad Aunt and Laura. In fact Jane asked if she could have a ticket too, as she is becoming of the opinion that their Mum (and Dad) ought to be taking the two little ones to cultural events, and not just her sister-in-law, as it might give them the impression that the theatre is not for them. I know it isn’t on Phil’s radar at all but I see what she means. My love of literature, theatre, ballet etc all stems from the fact I was taught to read at a very early age (3 years) and taken to the theatre and ballet by my parents as soon as I could appreciate it. Parents’ likes (and dislikes) all too easily become their children’s likes and dislikes if you aren’t extremely careful.

Laura, for example, had only been to the theatre on school trips before I came along and had never been to a Classical Music concert either. Those things weren’t, and still aren’t, on Molly and Eric’s radar. Not that I am criticising parents who don’t take their children to these things but it does seem to be closing doors of experience for their children before the kids have had the chance to decide for themselves.

I will get down off my high horse.

One surprising note about the concert (although in a way thoroughly predictable, I suppose) was the way that Mr Smith from accounts – who also happened to be there – agreed with me over the shallow nature of the repertoire. I know he only did so because he thinks he has a chance of getting into my knickers. He still, after three years, doesn’t understand at all! Christopher and I could have been great friends now, but the stupid idiot had to get all lovey dovey over me. When he’d gone back to his seat, Mrs Briggs said, “Well, that was no surprise. was it? Your puppy still loves you!”

My real puppy does love me and I love her. When we got back home she was waiting for me with a pile of my underwear, snaffled from the linen basket. She does this from time to time. She doesn’t chew anything, just carries it around in her mouth making whimpering noises. Dogs, eh? I assume this is a way of her showing her affection and how much she misses me when I am out. I am bloody glad Christopher doesn’t behave like this, imagine how embarrassing that would be. (Pretty funny too, when you come to think about it!)

Loll and I walked Callie through the woods tonight, as it was dry. Callie was delighted by the longer walk, I was delighted as Laura and I could get frisky with each other in the woods. We ended up walking back home without any knickers on under our skirts, I had Laura’s in my jacket pocket; I have no idea where mine went at all. Perhaps they are still in Hill Top Woods?

It turned out to be lucky we did walk through the woods when we did, we hadn’t been home for more than a few minutes when the heavens opened and it rained solidly until about 6am! Phew.