Nice to be back on the road after a couple of months off. Nice to catch up with senior techie Dik again… there is nothing more comforting when pervaded by an unmistakeable smell of burning than being supported by a veteran technician with 38 year’s experience behind him who knows, even without looking, that it is nothing to do with us.
Food is an important aspect of touring. My own one concession to superstitious practices is to ensure that I eat and drink exactly the same thing before each performance: two ham and mustard rolls and a pepsi max – leaving room for handfuls of chocolate balls (Mars, Nestles or Cadbury’s it doesn’t matter which) in the dark, so I can’t see how many I’m eating, during the drive home. Sometimes I succumb to a biscuit or cake if offered one at the venue. They vary in levels of interest and appeal. Pink wafers have never been my favourites, and variety packs leave me cold. Home made is unfailingly good. The puddings in Bishops Itchington were to die for, I recall. But last night the bar was set higher than ever before thanks to someone in Weston on Trent. At the kitchen servery was laid out a promising array of tins and foil wrapped home made cakes and biscuits. Any one of them would have done the job but the courgette and lime cake was too intriguing to resist. Dik’s resistence failed him first and he took a tentative nibble “You can taste the courgette.” He announced, and then finished his piece in two mouthfuls. I saved my own till later and then wished that Dik had left his.
I sometimes think that Ruth Rich, the heroine of my one-act plays, lives a more interesting albeit troublesome life than my own. Not today though.
I awoke to discover that I had received 15 emails. That’s more than usual. They revealed that my email account had been hacked into and that, unwittingly I had sent a link to a Canadian Viagra site to all my addressees. These include staff and pupils of both children’s schools, a large number of business contacts, the ladies and gentlemen of the choir I sing with and several eminent members of the judiciary – many of whom had concluded that this was a bona fide new venture of mine and sent witty emails to tell me so. That’s not counting the one from the person who took it personally and seemed pretty pissed off.
It took a bit of time to set this straight and so I left late with my mother to visit my niece. Half way down the M40 a tyre blew. I was all for changing the wheel but mum said I mustn’t because it was dangerous so instead for 45 minutes we stood shivering to death (also dangerous in my view) beside the road singing hymns we both knew until an overly kind breakdown man confirmed that I clearly look older than I feel by wrapping me in a tinfoil blanket while he put everything right, and departed with the news that I’d probably need two new tyres not one because the rear one was bald.
Then the phone rang and it was someone in my village telling me that they had found my filofax lying in the road and I could pick it up whenever I liked. How the hell did it get there?
Got to niece – with just enough time to spare for a quick lunch followed by an hour of new child seat for car assembly. No finger nails left, and precious little temper.
Got home to discover the hoover in pieces all over the sitting room floor and Gina the cleaner looking fraught. Then spent the evening trying to upload a new anti-virus system and deleting copious old and doubtless invaluable files from the computer.
Will shortly go to bed – content in at least one respect: Sometimes, very occasionally, my own true life is even more stressful than that of my alter ego. Eat your heart out, Ruth Rich, and leave the courgette and lime cake for me.
