Friday, 9 March 2012

Drama Queen

As if I didn't have enough to do at school as it is, in a crazy moment of comradely bonhommie I thought 'I know! I'll go and offer my assistance with this term's production of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.'

So off I trotted to the drama studio, where Paul, the drama teacher fell upon my offer with the gratefulness of a starving wolf. And having been a Head of Drama myself I know how he felt because most teachers will give drama a wide berth because they think it is a subject that only gives the wilder student element an opportunity to be even wilder. And it makes you smell of dodgy make-up.

And after last night's rehearsal I think they may have a point.

Because when I made my offer I foolishly disregarded the other things that happen on Thursdays at our school which would require my attention, like Parent Evenings and Open Evenings and other Evenings dedicated to raising the profile of the school so that we get enough bums on seats in September to ensure our employment for another year.

Thus I found myself yesterday teaching all day until 3.05, then dashing to the studio for a two hour rehearsal, then dashing to the Hall for the 6th form parent evening, my heart pounding like a loon because I also thought it would be a good idea to join in with the drama games and spent a goodly hour hurtling around the studio with a bunch of 14 to 17 year olds and Paul who is 30 if he's a day and as thin as a rake and therefore fleet of foot and fit as a butcher's dog.

As I collapsed in my chair in the Hall, trying to look not too pink and flustered as the first parents arrived to grill me on their child's progress, I thought, 'You are a 46 year old granny and 20lbs overweight. You are an IDIOT!'

But it was fun!

And then I found myself standing in Sainsbugs at 6.45. I thought, 'What am I doing here?' So I phoned Andy.
'Have you got anything on the go for dinner?' said I.
'Well,' said Andy, 'I've just started to make a lasagne thingy. Why?'
'I'm in Sainsbugs,' I said.
'If you'd rather have something else, I can have this deconstructed lasagne thingy for my lunch tomorrow,' said he.
'Okay,' I said. And hung up.

And I stood in the chilled food aisle for a few minutes, staring (as you do) and then I wondered what on earth I was doing there. So I called Andy again.

'So what did we actually decide about dinner?' I said.
'I'm not sure,' said he. 'Were you going to buy something as you are standing in Sainsbugs?'
'I can't remember,' I said. 'That's why I phoned you back.'
'I've already been to Sainsbugs,' said Andy. 'On my way home from work.'
'Me, too,' said I. 'I'm here now.'
'I know,' said Andy.
'Shall I get something for dinner,' said I.
'If you like,' said Andy. 'I've already bought eclairs. I thought you might need them.'

You see, he is a very wise and sensitive man, my Andy.

Well, eclairs are very nice, but they don't constitute a balanced diet, especially for us re-invigorated drama queens who are thinking maybe we have taken on more than we can manage and better start working on our fitness levels. So I bought some tomato and mozzarella filled pasta (veggies, carbs and protein), and a chunky veggie sauce (more veggies) and a garlic butter baguette (carbs and blood-thinning, heart guarding, breath enhancing) and tub of coleslaw (more veggies, fat) to go with the eclairs (fat, fat and fat) and it balanced out very nicely indeed!

And today I knew it was time to come home when I reached a point marking some Year 11 work on Romeo and Juliet and found myself reading about 'fry a lorance.'

'A what?' I said out loud. 'A lorance? What the heck is a lorance?'
'Oh, you wouldn't like it, you being a vegetarian and all,' came a voice from 'cross the ether, for yeah, 'twas Mrs Pumphrey with whom I have developed a scary telepathic bond.
'Well?' I said, hoping no-one would walk into my classroom and discover me talking to myself. 'What is a lorance?'
'It's a small lizard,' said Mrs Pumphrey (telepathically). 'It's sort of the mammalian equivalent to a sprat. You fry 'em whole because once you've faffed about getting the skin off and the bones out there's not much left and you might as well....'
'STOP!!' I shouted. 'This is too much information.' And I said this as someone who felt the urge to purchase a frying pan last weekend specifically for her own vegetarian use because there seems to be a renewed effort by some members of the Manor to reek the house out by cooking bacon and mince and other bits of dead animal carcass and it offendeth mine nostrils.

'You asked,' said Mrs Pumphrey. 'Of course, fry a lorance might also be the character from Romeo and Juliet who marries the tragic couple in the misguided hope it will bring together the warring families of Capulet and Monty Goose...I mean Montagues.'

Dear reader, I have re-read this post and I am concerned about my state of mind. I'm glad it's the weekend. And I'm glad that the sun does not set until gone 6 p.m and that we are promised a warm and sunny couple of days.

Bit of serotonin, that's what I need. That'll sort the old brain out.

2 comments:

debmjja said...

Hi Denise..... Mum said that you had been writing a blog but its taken her this long to remember what it was called which is quite good really as before its been trying to find the piece of paper that she wrote it down on... Anyway with a few clues like.. something Manor and I think it starts MU.... the rest left to google i finally found it.... Is that your house??? Anyway we follow avidly from now on ..... Debbie x

Denise said...

Hi Debbie! Sadly no, the house is not ours, but we stayed in it last year for a holiday. Going back this year in August, when we are planning to claim squatters' rights!
However, it is in Hereford, which is where we are hoping to move in the next few years.