05 December, 2008

This week sadly with no pictures

I have been busy this week. But there'll be no photographic evidence as the camera is on the blink. Which means you can't see the pheasants that were left for us on our door handle, the preserved lemons I made, or the school nativity play which I attended two days running. There must be some collection somewhere of versions of the nativity play for schools with different songs and scripts. This one was Fishing for Stars with an interesting (?) plot that seemed to suggest that the Nativity story was all the dream of a small boy in a dressing-gown called Luke. And it was of course lovely especially when things didn't quite go according to plan. Emilia was in the band and by the second performance, she was a little bored so could be clearly seen yawning and chatting, while the girl next door picked her nose.

In two weeks, we have the playgroup version and Charlotte is Mary. I was never Mary. My sister was, and I was a horse. I can still remember watching her from behind a very hot mask while stuck on all fours for what seemed an age, and thinking how unjust life is. I am of course very proud of Charlotte. Can't wait. And will make sure I have some kind of camera available to capture the moment.

3 comments:

Claire said...

Oooh, preserved lemons! I'd love to hear more about those. I have 3 lemons from my tree that I grow outdoors in the summer and haul in for the winter. I am never happy with just squeezing them into a gin tonic and calling it a day. I should do something special with them.

Don said...

I agree with Claire. Get the camera going and show us the lemons and then tell us how to do it. Hey! I am sounding bossy! Sorry, just excited...

I was always one of the wise men wearing a face full of cotton with few lines. I envied my brother who got to be the little donkey who carried the Mary Fair.

Soilman said...

Ah, but will they let you bring the camera in? We all know what shocking perverts attend nativity plays, after all. It must be true, because Thought Police tell us so.

I was the angel Gabriel at mine. Best part in the piece, if you ask me; you get to play a camp, condescending little queen with wings on your arse. Unimprovable.