The mist and fog this morning are like gray velvet curtains. I slept well but feel tired and a bit achy. Yesterday was pretty full for me and so there you go. I did go to town and was craving a salad and so went and bought myself one. I got dressed in regular clothes and went into a restaurant all by myself and ordered a Salad Nicoise and iced tea and ate every morsel. It was lovely. I read the new New Yorker and eavesdropped on surrounding diners' conversations.
People have a lot of health problems. This is what you learn when you eavesdrop.
Then I attempted to do a little Christmas shopping. Oh god. It was awful.
I managed to buy a sweet little Norfolk Island pine in a pot and I think I'll set that up today. I bought two small strings of lights for it and that's going to be overkill. After Christmas, I'll give it to Lily to plant in her yard. My yard doesn't have room for one more tree and that's just the truth.
The Opera House was bustling. We sold more tickets to the shows than I thought we would (I am the eternal pessimist) and I helped serve plates and tables. I told one man that we would not be starting the show until he ate his vegetables. Haha! I ate another plate of salad in the kitchen. I can't seem to get enough salad these days. But I don't want salad I make. I want salad that someone else makes. This craving started when a friend of mine who is in Rome sent me this picture.
Oh my goodness.
Anyway, yeah, I ate two salads yesterday and the one I snarfed in the kitchen at the Opera House was the best one because it was covered in Denise's vinaigrette which I would drink straight from the container if I could get away with. I've tried to snort it but that's not as satisfying as you'd think. Maybe I'll take a syringe tonight and just mainline it. That would save time.
The show went well. It's a relatively short program which is always a good thing if you ask me. We have three darling little girls who have parts, mostly singing, and they are the definite high-point of the show. You just can't help but giggle and smile when they're up there, so earnestly singing away. To tell you the honest truth, most of my time onstage is spent knitting. I have the occasional sound effect but not very many. The hardest part for me is sitting that long although we can get up and walk around, which I do. My big moment comes when I break a glass in a bucket by throwing a rock on it and the damn glass didn't even break last night but it sounded okay. You'd be surprised how hard it can be to break a glass in a bucket and the rock I'm using is a big ol' chunky mother of a rock. I'll use a thinner glass tonight.
As I keep trying to remember, I am NOT a Foley artist, I am an actor PLAYING a Foley artist. Big difference.
So anyway, that was that and I took off my heels and gathered my things and came on home and drank a beer and was suddenly hit by a fatigue so profound that I had to force myself to heat up some leftover chicken and pasta and I didn't even wash the dish but left it in the sink and washed the make-up off my face and brushed my teeth and felt as if I'd just paved forty miles of road and fell in the bed.
And here I am and it's quiet and the fog is still dense
and I need to clean out the henhouse and go upstairs and find the few Christmas decorations I do want to put up and that's it. That's all I have to do today until tonight when I'll put on my make up and braid my hair and pin it up on my head and and slip on the dress that I wear (which is the same dress I wore in the first play I was ever in at the Opera House) and drive back to Monticello and terrorize the diners by telling them they have to eat their vegetables and maybe I'll get some more salad and I'll hopefully break a glass in a bucket and ring a bell and so forth and then another year's radio plays will be over.
Good morning from Lloyd, y'all.
P.S. If you haven't already, go over to Elizabeth's place and see what she posted this morning. Please. Okay. Good.