And the award for the shortest blog of the tour goes to...
Technically, this week hasn't been part of the tour. We've been on a break for the past seven days and I've spent the bulk of my time in Norfolk, whiling away the hours doing virtually nothing till provoked.
It's Remembrance Sunday today and am planning, with the family to go for a meal. The day is always tinged with extra doses of melancholy. One, for the obvious thoughts shed for those that lost their lives, two, for the wonderful time that myself and 'C company' had whilst touring Journey's End in tribute to the Great War and thirdly, for the loss of my Grandfather. He died on the 11th of the 11th, 15 years ago and am always prompted to thinking of his puffy red face when I see the poppies, pricking through the grey clothes of winter time.
|Dad and his mates (third from the right)|
I was particularly moved this week whilst sitting with Dad and his friends at the Golf Club enjoying a few drinks when one of the men said, "Oh, Dale, it's a special day isn't it?" To which the room raised their glasses and quietly spoke.
"To lost friends."
It was humbling seeing them there, normally unsentimental crotchety old gits (Dad included) reflecting and spending a moment to remember their old mate who sadly left us so suddenly.
Monday was audition day. I'd kipped on my mates floor the night before and had slept all of two hours; just the kind of restful sleep that one needs before a big day. I got up early, finally admitting defeat and got to work with the scenes that I'd been asked to look over for the meeting.
The audition itself went well. I'm yet to hear back whether I was successful or not - always the worst part of the job - but I don't think that I could have done anymore than I did. The fingers will just have to stay crossed for a little while longer...
As I said, the week here in Norfolk has been wholly enjoyable. I went to an old, old, OLD friend's engagement party yesterday, which was terrific, and the day before had gone out with Dad and his mates for a meal and drinks. We ended up at the casino - always the mark of a good night - and came away with a ton more than I went in with! Lovely jubbly.
I'm at a loss what else to write this week.
I went to see my Grandparents on Wednesday. They both have dementia and it was the first time that my Nan did not realise who I was.
I was sad.
I had an afternoon on Thursday catching up with my cousin and her husband who are 3 weeks away from giving birth to their first child.
I was happy.
|My Sister, Tayla bakes a cake|
I went for an Indian last night at THE BEST Curry house in England, 'Planet Poppadom' which also serves as a second home to me. We've had some of the most incredible evenings in there and am always reminded of some of our more bizarre traditions. The place is home to 'Norfolk's Biggest Marrow' - a hollowed out vegetable which we routinely pass around the table chanting "It's Norfolk's biggest marrow, it's Norfolk's biggest marrow, na na na na! Na na na na!"
How such a thing got started I can't remember, but as with most things in our circle of friends, there's very little rhyme or reason to anything.
I read an article in the Equity magazine this morning, interviewing Michael Grandage about his career and his decision to leave the Donmar Warehouse. The most enlightening and encouraging thing that he spoke about was auditioning:
"I don't like the term audition. It's a correct word and it's the only one we've got, but I prefer to say 'let's have a meeting'. I think this takes away the curse of feeling that you have to stand alone on stage delivering lines..."
He goes on...
"What I admire in an actor is fearlessness, a good memory and a healthy vanity."
Now where's my moisturiser darling?