Title : Weekend Doings: The Bard and The Beatles and The Big Little Mistake. . .
link : Weekend Doings: The Bard and The Beatles and The Big Little Mistake. . .
Weekend Doings: The Bard and The Beatles and The Big Little Mistake. . .
I'm writing this on Sunday afternoon, so that I'll have it ready to post Monday morning. As soon as I finish, we'll be heading to a performance of As You Like It at Bard on the Beach (a production set in the 1960s and accompanied with Beatles music. Purists may not approve, but I know from experience this will be much fun although it will certainly slash Shakespeare's words to make room for those Beatles tunes).
Would it surprise you to know that we headed to the same performance on Saturday night? Yes, yes we did. Walked the whole way (about four kilometres) there -- a pleasant enough walk, scarcely had to put the umbrellas up -- and were pleased to be there fifteen or so minutes early. Worked our way up the line to have my e-tickets scanned, wondered a bit at the problem the usher was having with her little scanner, tried to enlarge the QR code box for her except that she was trying to tell me something about a problem with the ticket. Which, of course, I knew there wasn't, so I was smiling and staying patient until I noticed that the date included the word "Sunday." And we were still on Saturday.
Uh-oh. . . . Apparently, the show was sold out, but we could have waited to see if they could accommodate us, except that our tickets for tonight--Sunday night!-- are actually quite good tickets, not likely to be available on a sold-out night.
So Saturday evening, we had a lovely long walk (yes, there AND back!) and called it a date. . . . Not completely convinced of its romantic possibilities, mind you, and my feet were really sore by the time I got home (did I ever tell you that I really banged my toe week before last, banged it so the whole top of my foot, instep and all, went all purple-y and a bit nasty, and it still gets sore if I walk too much (and maybe even more sore if I walk somewhere with hopes of watching a play, but then have to walk home again without having watched that play).
As I said, then, we're going to a performance of As You Like It shortly, and by the time you read this on Monday morning, let's hope we got there and our tickets were good and the play was just as delightful as the reviews promise. . . . Edited just before posting to add that the performance was brilliant, as much of a Beatles revue as of the Shakespeare play, but doing (slightly truncated) justice to the latter. Physical comedy and musical ability and skilful acting and clever set and costumes and much audience delight were ample throughout -- I think the bard would have given it two thumbs up.
In case you're wondering, I've decided to wear exactly what I wore Saturday -- my dark blue velvet shirtdress (Vince), those metallic-gold MOMA Oxfords, a dark-brown faux-fur vest, and my chocolate-gold beads. But the fellow who takes pretty good care of me (thank you, Pater!) insists that we take the car this evening in deference to my cranky foot. . . .
Before I go, though, may I share a couple of recent annoyances, just to demonstrate how petty I can be?
A favourite stationery shop here in town -- it sells the most beautiful papers from all over the world -- that uses the hashtag #stationary, in almost all their Instagram posts -- yeah, really!!
And the Guided Meditation (I've recently downloaded an app, and overall, I'm finding it a very good way to slow down, catch my breath, and remind my shoulders where they belong) which had me visualize a stream, the burbling water, the grass around, and then asked me to imagine the "ebb and flow" of the stream -- huh?? Is this a stream or a body of tidal water? -- and then to picture lilies in the stream -- well, first of all, lilies generally don't grow in streams, what with their preference for having their roots in still water -- but then I'm supposed to mentally place each potentially disruptive thought, as it arises, on a lily and then watch it float down the stream -- Counter-productive, that particular meditation, and although the fellow had a lovely, soothing voice, I won't be listening to it again. Picky, yes I am. . .
Since we've drifted a bit into random with this post, I'll share a What a Wore photo with you and then I'd better be off. . .
I wore this last week, in transitional weather (still sunny enough for the shades, but cool enough for a sweatshirt and jeans). According to the weather forecast, I don't need to bother carrying sunglasses around for the next week. . . .
I wouldn't bother showing you this second photo except that it amuses me that our 3-year-old grandson identifies this feline as a Fox each time I wear this, although he's begun to correct himself. . . (sweatshirt is by All Saints; I really like the relaxed fit, especially the non-hugging, split hem, slightly more length at the back)
Okay, now I'm done. . . . Hope your weekend was good and that the week ahead is shaping up to be decent as well. . .
Now tell me, what calendar snafus have you made? This mix-up wasn't nearly as dramatic as the time I missed a whole transAtlantic flight, but perhaps you have a dramatic story about a time you showed up on the wrong date . . . .
Would it surprise you to know that we headed to the same performance on Saturday night? Yes, yes we did. Walked the whole way (about four kilometres) there -- a pleasant enough walk, scarcely had to put the umbrellas up -- and were pleased to be there fifteen or so minutes early. Worked our way up the line to have my e-tickets scanned, wondered a bit at the problem the usher was having with her little scanner, tried to enlarge the QR code box for her except that she was trying to tell me something about a problem with the ticket. Which, of course, I knew there wasn't, so I was smiling and staying patient until I noticed that the date included the word "Sunday." And we were still on Saturday.
Uh-oh. . . . Apparently, the show was sold out, but we could have waited to see if they could accommodate us, except that our tickets for tonight--Sunday night!-- are actually quite good tickets, not likely to be available on a sold-out night.
So Saturday evening, we had a lovely long walk (yes, there AND back!) and called it a date. . . . Not completely convinced of its romantic possibilities, mind you, and my feet were really sore by the time I got home (did I ever tell you that I really banged my toe week before last, banged it so the whole top of my foot, instep and all, went all purple-y and a bit nasty, and it still gets sore if I walk too much (and maybe even more sore if I walk somewhere with hopes of watching a play, but then have to walk home again without having watched that play).
As I said, then, we're going to a performance of As You Like It shortly, and by the time you read this on Monday morning, let's hope we got there and our tickets were good and the play was just as delightful as the reviews promise. . . . Edited just before posting to add that the performance was brilliant, as much of a Beatles revue as of the Shakespeare play, but doing (slightly truncated) justice to the latter. Physical comedy and musical ability and skilful acting and clever set and costumes and much audience delight were ample throughout -- I think the bard would have given it two thumbs up.
In case you're wondering, I've decided to wear exactly what I wore Saturday -- my dark blue velvet shirtdress (Vince), those metallic-gold MOMA Oxfords, a dark-brown faux-fur vest, and my chocolate-gold beads. But the fellow who takes pretty good care of me (thank you, Pater!) insists that we take the car this evening in deference to my cranky foot. . . .
Before I go, though, may I share a couple of recent annoyances, just to demonstrate how petty I can be?
A favourite stationery shop here in town -- it sells the most beautiful papers from all over the world -- that uses the hashtag #stationary, in almost all their Instagram posts -- yeah, really!!
And the Guided Meditation (I've recently downloaded an app, and overall, I'm finding it a very good way to slow down, catch my breath, and remind my shoulders where they belong) which had me visualize a stream, the burbling water, the grass around, and then asked me to imagine the "ebb and flow" of the stream -- huh?? Is this a stream or a body of tidal water? -- and then to picture lilies in the stream -- well, first of all, lilies generally don't grow in streams, what with their preference for having their roots in still water -- but then I'm supposed to mentally place each potentially disruptive thought, as it arises, on a lily and then watch it float down the stream -- Counter-productive, that particular meditation, and although the fellow had a lovely, soothing voice, I won't be listening to it again. Picky, yes I am. . .
Since we've drifted a bit into random with this post, I'll share a What a Wore photo with you and then I'd better be off. . .
I wouldn't bother showing you this second photo except that it amuses me that our 3-year-old grandson identifies this feline as a Fox each time I wear this, although he's begun to correct himself. . . (sweatshirt is by All Saints; I really like the relaxed fit, especially the non-hugging, split hem, slightly more length at the back)
Now tell me, what calendar snafus have you made? This mix-up wasn't nearly as dramatic as the time I missed a whole transAtlantic flight, but perhaps you have a dramatic story about a time you showed up on the wrong date . . . .
Thus articles Weekend Doings: The Bard and The Beatles and The Big Little Mistake. . .
that is all articles Weekend Doings: The Bard and The Beatles and The Big Little Mistake. . . This time, hopefully can provide benefits to you all. Okay, see you in another article post.
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