Snow Queen has melted

Well, it's all over: the panto, the term, 2007 (well, almost.) Panto was exhausting, with 10 performances, including two Saturday matinees, but great fun. No hiccups at all, which was good, although less interesting from the point-of-view of writing about it. Everyone who spoke to me or whose comments were relayed to me seemed to enjoy it - one of the girls on Stronsay even went twice (which probably says more about being a teenager on Stronsay than the quality of the entertainment.) I appeared on Radio Orkney - not that I remembered to tune in - that's the second time I've been interviewed and I've missed it both times - and got a good writeup in the two local papers. One commented on my 'powerful voice', possibly a reference to my appalling one-octave-below-natural-register rendition of 'Killer Queen.' See above for me with my attendant penguins, bless 'em. (Also a photo of George, the resplendent Dame.) When it was at last over, I went for a long walk to clear my aching head. Thus photo of swans on a freezing winter afternoon. There is about 7 hours of daylight at present, if you're lucky.

The mummers play went well - the kids actually managed to learn all their lines and the audience of parents and children laughed in the right places. The kids succeeding in putting on their own Christmas Fayre successfully and raised £333, which will go towards the cost of their trip to Shetland. (I can't help thinking that a trip to a part of the United Kingdom that isn't another remote, sparsely populated island might be more educational, but perhaps I'm just feeling the effects of end-of-term collapse.) I would just like to point out that Father Christmas had a floor cushion stuffed down her trousers, in case you thought I'd been overeating to compensate for the extreme cold.

I am absolutely shattered. Even packing to come home has been difficult, seeing as BA lost my luggage the last twice flew with them, and so I have had to plan carefully in case they make it a hat-trick. I am dreading crossing London on the busiest Saturday of the year with both a rucksack and an overnight bag, but I am not risking being knickerless and toothbrushless yet again.

Thank you to all of you who have read my literary (bloggertary?) efforts: it has made such a difference to me to know that I haven't sunk without trace from your memories. I hope every one of you has a wonderful Christmas and all the best for 2008, when I shall be in touch once more. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Dramatic events

That's 'dramatic events' in the same way a book review reading 'far less thrilling than his previous efforts' will reappear on the jacket as 'thrilling.' However, reason for lengthy silence from the land where 'four seasons in one day' seems an inadequate way to describe the mutability of the weather is that I have been tied up with pantomime rehearsals to the exclusion of all else, apart from work, which has also involved drama.

When I was told that they take pantomime very seriously here, I wasn't paying sufficient attention. The last two Sundays have involved rehearsals of inordinate length (ten hours and eleven hours respectively) plus rehearsals most other nights and I am shattered. The dress rehearsal is on Wednesday and we have the first of ten performances Friday. On both Saturdays, there are two performances and we are not allowed to go home in between. I have enjoyed it in the sense that I have a great part - non-stop ham acting - but the responsibility is telling on me. I have somehow allowed myself to be talked into directing a one-act play for February's one-act play competition, which apparently is also taken very seriously, as all the islands compete against one another and the winning production goes on to compete in a national event. If I screw this up, I'm assuming no one will ever speak to me again.

Meanwhile, I have also allowed myself to be talked into (do you sense a pattern here?) taking on another job one day a week, when I will be covering for the county Drama advisor, who has been promoted to Arts co-ordinator. This involves working with Primary school as well as secondary-age children. Help! Short people! Ones young enough to believe that what we are doing is for real. I'm terrified.

Finally, my 11 nutters on Hoy have decided that they will run a Christmas Fayre all on their own (I'll believe that when I see it) and that I will be Father Christmas. Last Friday I was very pointedly informed that they had Santa outfits in Lidls for 1.99, so I am now the proud owner of red suit, beard etc. I have written a mummers play for them to perform. I am quite proud of this, although its (very basic) humour is lost on most of them.

The doctor, doing the customary list of cures ("I can cure the itch, the stitch, the palsy and the gout/ If there's 99 diseases in, I'll fetch a hundred out...") has the lines "Rabies and scabies and foot-and-mouth/I've cured in the north and in the south".

Donald: That's shtupit. A human being can't get foot-and-mooth.

Me: It's a joke, Donald.

Donald: No it isn't.

Me: It's a funny play. It has jokes in it.

Donald: Well, it's a shtupit choke.

Rehearsals are progressing slowly.

I haven't taken many photos recently - in fact, with all this rehearsing, I've barely seen daylight. I did dutifully go to see the annual Orkney bird show, as Donald was competing. The other pic is of my housemate, Emma, whose mum has sent up a costume she found in the attic of their house. She's got a fancy-dress event coming up at her school. I think she looks rather amazing, even in the dismal light of an energy-efficient lightbulb. I hope to have some panto photos for you next time. It's taken me hours to post these pictures and they're still in the wrong order. I never had this problem with a packet of kodak from Boots.