Fending off PPB

Well, that’s it. Show’s over.

Yes, it might be nice to live in a city where a run of at least a week, perhaps two is viable, but in a small island community four performances over one weekend has always been about right. In this instance we probably could have filled up at least two more performances. We were completely sold out four days before opening night.

A bigger venue would help, but the one we have holds 50 people max in the audience. And it’s not a proper theatre, just the best we can do with a community centre. A proper performance space with raised seating and set panels (rather than just the blacks we hang) has long been on the wish list of many.

Perhaps next time I’m in the village, I’ll check the lottery ticket I bought on impulse last September, which has been sitting in my wallet ever since. If memory serves that week’s top prize was $56 million. That would certainly pay for building a theatre and setting up a fund to maintain it. I have no doubt that when checked the machine will say ‘Not a winner’, as it always does, but, hey you never know. Perhaps there’s a trip on the Orient Express waiting for me in the autumn.

In the meantime there are the Post Production Blues with which to contend. That let down when there are no more rehearsals, no more performances, just time on one’s hands. The PPB are a menace, but it’s not as if there aren’t plenty of other things I could be doing.

I’ve still done fuck all with the garden. Nice that there are plenty of strawberries coming along in the raised beds, but I really should rather belatedly plant some peas and beans, get some cherry tomatoes planted. Not really the right weather for gardening today, but there is the housework. Those windows, unfortunately, are not going to wash themselves and god knows the place could do with a hoover and a good dusting. Plenty to do.