The play's the thing ......

I was going to the theatre to see Mike Bartlett's, Love, Love, Love and I was very, very excited about it. I really, really wanted to see it. I went to work in the sunshine smiling. But I thought to myself, I do hope it's not cancelled because it's sold out, what would they do? I never think that when I go to the theatre. A few hours later I recieved an email saying that night's performance was cancelled, an actor could not go on for personal reasons. No understudies at the Royal Court so no show, run sold out, awfully sorry............ whatever happened to the show must go on? Surely rule number one in the acting book of rules, no? I was very upset. I was mortified. I am not good with dissappointment. I've never been good with disappointment. As a child when it rained on our picnic and we were told we could go to the cinema instead, I was the inconsolable child. Being good with dissappointment is a good skill to have as life is more often than not, disappointing. I do not have this skill. Everything was ruined. And thing was, my mate Matthew offered me a ticket the week before and I said no thanks, I'm going next week......


The friend I was going to the theatre with suggested we go see a screeing of Britain In A Day at the BFI as her husband worked on it. A series of clips filmed by all sorts of people in all sorts of places doing all sorts of thing over 24 hours. It will be on TV in June on BBC2. It was good, very moving. A bit bleak. I did cry. And laugh. But it wasn't Love, Love, Love.

I woke too early this morning then fell back to sleep. And slept too late. I dreamt of people in the wrong place and spaniel dogs and I was angry and I couldn't move and the sky was pale and bright and blue and I could see the ghost-white moon and then other planets, many planets in the pale blue sky, and I said to my son, I have never seen this before, and we looked up and then I woke up. I felt leaden, bed-crumpled and my head ached. 

But the sun was still shining and so I actually abandoned my socks for the first time this year and went to work. I bought wholemeal sour dough bread from Ottolenghi and avocados and baby gem lettuce and Emmental cheese and honey roast ham and tomatoes and made a sandwich and sat in the park at lunch time. With my toes in the sun. But it wasn't as good as Love, Love, Love......

Top tip: Go outside ....... who knows how long it will last.

Age cannot wither her…but does make her bloody tierd….

Everyone seems to be saying the same thing .......  it’s been a long week. I think it's the weather. It's exhausting.

I went to a Christening at Emmanuel College in Cambridge and the sun actually shone for my friend’s son. We went on the train. A late marriage quickly followed by a much wanted baby meant it was a very special day. There were ducks on the lawn. Our party had swelled for the return. We bought wine at the station M&S and continued the celebration with a train- party on the journey home.

I met someone some weeks ago but I don’t know if we're dating or not. It's perplexing me and so I made a triple layer, Devil’s Food cake for my boy's birthday, with white chocolate frosting, from a recipe in the Magnolia Bakery Cook Book. I didn’t know I was making a triple layer cake because I hadn’t read it properly. I had enough frosting to ice most of north London.

I had dinner with friend’s and drank too much wine because the person I don’t know if I’m dating or not had not called. So, I decided I wasn't dating him. When I got home I discovered I had a missed call from the person I don’t know if I’m dating or not, hoping we were still on for our date at the Bauhaus exhibition at the Barbican. So, I decided I was dating him. 

I went to the cinema and saw Blackthorn, the story Butch Cassidy seeing out his retirement in Bolivia, and fell in love with Sam Shepard. Again. And Bolivia. When I was in Argentina this time last year, I travelled north to Salta, near the border with Bolivia and drank mate surrounded by the hills of 7 colours and walked on the salt flats, pretending I was Etta Place. And I wished I was there again.

I went to the Bauhaus exhibition at the Barbican with the person I don’t know if I’m dating or not. It was a delight. We went for a noisy drink in The Slaughtered Lamb but we are old and it was loud. So we went for a quiet drink in St. John Bar & Restaurant. It reminds me of being in New York. And I wished I was there again.

A confusing good-bye from the person I don’t know if I’m dating or not left me confused. The drama kept me awake. So when I got home from work I picked some rhubarb from my yard and made Raspberry & Rhubarb Crumble Cakes with Marscapone. And ate them on the sofa watching Episodes and Graham Norton and I thought, if you have to wonder if you're dating someone or not then the answer is probably in the question....

Top tip: Go see: Jeff Who Lives At Home…..made me laugh, made me cry and Susan Sarandon looks brilliant…the woman’s 65!!

Singing in the rain........

"I can't see you this weekend." he said, gravely.
"Oh," she said, "right."
"You're going to be so envious," he said, the smile returning to his voice, "when I tell you where I'm going this weekend."
"Really." she said, wishing he hadn't phoned.
"Yeah, I'm going away for the weekend."
"Where are you going for the weekend?"
"Oh you're going to be so envious."
"So, where are you going."
"I'm going to Paris." he said.
"Right. Great. Paris. Great." she paused, wishing she hadn't answered the phone. "Right."
"Yeah, I'm going to see my friend, you know," the smile had become a grin, "the one I told you about?"
She thought for a moment.
"Chloe." she said.
"Yeah, it's been booked for ages. I booked it ages ago."
She thought for another moment.
"Great."
"Mmmm, yeah." he said, tentatively, "going to meet her new man."
She didn't speak.
"The American." he said.
"Right."
"Yeah," he said gravely, "hope it doesn't rain," trying to make the trip a less enviable prospect, "probably will."
"Does it matter?" she said, "It's Paris."

I found a large bottle of vintage port and a box of 'intensely chocolatey' French truffles on my desk, a note saying: thank you so much. .....for fixing up the mess and covering the ass of my young colleague while she was away on her 3 week holiday.


Top tip: How About I Be Me (You Be You) Sinead O'Connor's latest album will keep you dancing round the kitchen on even the wettest days.