A Social Whirl

(Always makes me wonder just what an anti-social whirl would look like. Would it involve - I dunno, axes, maybe?

Anyhoo.)

Everyone got back from their weekend away safe and sound, thank you for asking, and VERY happy to be reunited. Kit in particular - these days he is being so affectionate, and I know it's the last hurrah of his boyhood, before my very dear first-born son disappears in a maelstrom of hormones. *sniff*. (When it's Beri's turn, will I even notice? Hmm . . .)

Jeremy and I thoroughly enjoyed Beaconsfield Operatic Society's production of Calamity Jane, highlights of which included the evanescent American accents (now you heard them, now you didn't . . .), the kissing (mucho kissing. What is it about AmDram kissing? It starts so very suddenly, both parties remain utterly immobile throughout, and it stops like both sets of lips were of the same magnetic pole. Why can't they just think of England? Or Brendan Fraser? (Click the link. It's so-ooo-o worth it.)) , and our bass-baritone, dragged-up friend Martin's newly shaved chest and falsetto song. (He had to kiss someone too, while his wife watched from the audience. Elaine, whose lovely husband just now won the lead role in - oh bugger, I've forgotten what - some Alan Ayckbourn anyway - has expressly forbidden him to kiss ANYONE under ANY circumstances. EVER. (Anyone else. Other than her. I'm almost sure.) All the times I've seen Jeremy perform - and he's kissed more sopranos than I've had hot dinners - it's never once occurred to me. Mind you, thinking back to the last time I saw him sing, (and I was great with his child, oh the irony) the kissing was the least of it. But then it never occurred to me to forbid writhing around on a table-top with a half-naked soprano either. Tcha.

ANYWAY. (Is there a point to this post? Oh yes . . .) last night the opera, tonight Burn After Reading. (Very nice looking site, but takes a bit of time to load.) Clooney did his Oh-Brother-Where-Art-Thou schtick again (still amusing though), Frances McDormand was reliably brilliant, and Brad Pitt was HILARIOUS. And that chair - oh my . . .

And tomorrow Sid has a friend to visit. I'm a bit anxious about this, as not only is little Malene new in the school, she's new in the country, and I don't know how well she speaka da Eeengleesh. Anyone venture the Norwegian for 'I want my mummy'? Or 'Grated cheese? Call this lunch??'

We are off to Germany first thing Saturday, just for the weekend, and the fun continues all the way though a packed half term. I'm already looking forward to school starting up again.