Speculation, Fact and Fiction

Parts of it were indeed excellent. From the top, last Friday's teen-video-fest went without any kind of hitch. Husband set up the digital projector and big screen and they all watched Hot Fuzz and then played four-handed x-box games, also on the big screen, fuelled by pizza and coca-cola. Husband and I retreated to our bedroom with respectively, Civilization on the laptop and most of a week's unread newspapers. Modest pleasures, y'know.

Saturday was the RSC. A lovely drive up through the English countryside in winter sunshine; leafless trees interspersed with the occasional mossy green of conifers, frost-parched grass patchworked with plough-soil, the colours changing subtly as we drove north, golden stonework and ruddy brick in the villages, all under brilliant blue sky.

As to the play, it was excellent. Neil Bartlett has focused in on the Montagues and Capulets being two houses alike in dignity, and their quarrel being so very longstanding. Add in the Italian setting and you have families akin to the Corleones and Sopranos. There was definitely a touch of Carmela Soprano about Lady Capulet! The trumpet/clarinet etc band were playing what could have easily been incidental music from The Godfather and the dress was 1950's - which meant the men could go from three-piece-suit respectability to rolled-shirt-sleeves-and-braces thuggery in an instant, simply by removing their jackets. Consequently, R and J's love-story becomes a desperate teenage folly born of desire to get away from this oppressive cycle of violence as much as anything else.  Thus James Clyde as Friar Laurence, a much more youthful, muscular priest than usual, is persuaded to help, not least by Juliet's threats of suicide, a mortal sin he'll do anything to prevent. Whereas Mercution and Tybalt's macho posturing shows them fully engaged in this life, and thus, dying because of it. Very effective.

There were what I took to be discreet nods to previous interpretations of the story. The fighting was all with switchblades and lighting cues for those actorly asides to the audience were prompted with snapping fingers. West Side Story? Also, and I cannot decide if this is happy co-incidence or intentional, given the RSC's colour-blind casting, Juliet was played by a black actress. Thus echoing Malorie Blackman's Noughts and Crosses? Picking up the gangster theme, the nurse's Sarf Lunnon accent also made me think of the Krays and that filmic/crime fiction tradition. But, and this is key, the teenage sons, who have none of that cultural hinterland as yet, found the production effective and enthralling on its own terms, with the constant threat of violence, the menace of silent men in long black coats and fedoras, the knives and all the rest of it. 

Then there was dinner at the Thai Boathouse in Stratford - excellent as always - and home.

Only not to aikido on Sunday as husband woke feeling distinctly below par and the pal we were supposed to be going with had called to say a family bereavement had necessitated an unforeseen trip to Essex. So we called that one quits. Which was the right decision as by Monday, I was also down with the virusey thing. Headaches, temperature fluctuations and extreme knackeredness. Not good when the pre-planned Xmas shopping simply had to happen. Even a curtailed expedition wiped me out.

And that was the pattern for the week. Though I never felt really ill enough to completely give up and go to bed, somewhat aggravatingly. I managed a morning's worth of work-related stuff most days before retreating to the sofa with cats and undemanding telly. Thus a fair few things I'd have liked to got done/made a start on never happened but hey ho, it could be worse. I met my deadline before this struck.

The worst of it seems to be over. I am feeling reasonably okay today, which I wasn't necessarily expecting. We hit Milton Keynes yesterday, to shop for the remaining Xmas stuff and also suits for the chaps for my sister's forthcoming wedding. Again, this is the only day it can happen on account of other diary stuff. We purchased a 48 long in charcoal grey for my fifteen year old and a 42-short in black for the thirteen year old. Plus sharp shirts and ties. Husband also bought a new suit, given his current one was purchased for our wedding, in 1989. He's just never worked in 'suit' environments. So, they will all look splendid. And the lads also behaved splendidly, through all the tedious bits of the shopping expotition and carried bags without (much) complaint. Mind you, I did send them all to the M&S cafe while I went to do ladies' underpinnings. I know when not to push my luck.

And it seems I brightened up Saturday for assorted John Lewis's shop assistants. When I asked for a large paper carrier bag rather than plastic, for various early purchases, the youthful chap serving commended my eco-awareness. So I explained it was actually for our cats - the entertainment value of such a bag for both cats and any observers should not be underestimated. Not being a cat owner, the chap was intrigued and baffled in roughly equal proportions. Coming back to the car at the end of the day, having ruled out other options on the lists meant another quick stop in JL. So once again, I asked for a large paper carrier bag. The entirely different youth who was serving me paused and asked if I had been in earlier. Yes, I had, I said. Is the bag for your cats, he asks with a grin. Indeed, I assure him. So the tale of the not-obviously-mad-cat-bag-lady had been doing the rounds!