Some people might think my latest acquisition is a bit weird, and by some people I mean everyone. The sweet little puppy Winkle was desexed today and her uterus is now in a bottle in my dresser. It's not my fault. When my vet friend Dr Bernie desexed Rumple he sent home his testicles. So I kept them as a curio. That being the case, as an equal opportunity dog owner, it would have been wrong not to treat Winkle's bits in the same way. So when back at Dr Bernie's today I asked for the byproducts to be bottled. Apparently, it was something no-one had asked for before. Who would have thought? So I now have his and her bottles in the dresser. You might as well laugh especially after a stressful day waiting for both Winkle and Rumple to undergo their procedures (Rumple was having his teeth scaled and cleaned also under anaesthetic). As any parent knows the wait is extremely trying. The good news is that both patients are well and both back home where they belong.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Monday, May 2, 2016
If today was the plot of a Sit Com, no one would believe it. It started out sanely enough. In a desperate desire to get away I booked a place on the Sunshine Coast at the very last minute. Drama Teen and my sister Lisa and our combined collection of three fur friends - Rumple, Winkle and Shadow - came along for the ride. We arrived and the house owner explained that new wiring around the deck would keep the dogs in while we unpacked the cars. Winkle was under that and out before I reached the footpath. She's like that. Dog one recaptured. We unpacked and Lisa and I and the dogs walked to the beach - about 15 minutes away across the busy David Low Way. The dogs took to it like dogs to water but at some point we noticed Shadow was missing. A long and frantic search uncovered not a trace. Panic. Until the phone rang. Oliver back at the holiday house announced that Shadow had come home. A furious man had brought him in after finding him wandering outside. We still don't know how that's even possible but dog two was recaptured. If Lisa wasn't so pleased to see Shadow was alive she would have killed him. Okay, time for a drink and dinner. I'll dial take aways. Has anyone seen my phone? Nope. Not a trace. Lisa rings it and a man picks itup. He found it buried in the sand on the beach. Right, that panic over. We'll go and get the phone. We head to the car at which point Rumple escapes. Well, it was his turn and he only wanted to come for the drive. Dog three and phone recaptured. And this was supposed to be a relaxing exercise. Still a day at the beach is better than a day just about anywhere else especially when all's well that ends well. And I'll tell you what we enjoyed that glass of wine and Thai take-away (the 15% public holiday surcharge was not so enjoyable but you get that).
Sunday, May 1, 2016
Two long weekends in a row. What an awesome luxury. Far too good to waste and yet I'm at home doing work, washing and Woolies. Same old. Same old. To be fair, last weekend doesn't count because let's face it, I did nothing to earn a break out of the Anzac sacrifice. But Labour Day? As a card carrying union member and more significantly a person who's working for the man, the rights of the worker should be celebrated. To me, celebration means relaxing on the beach. It does not mean removing spider webs no matter how attractive the rain has made them. To add insult to injury, my husband has headed to a North Queensland beach town for the weekend. This gives me the total shits because
1) I'm not there
2) He's not even going to see the sand but it playing bridge. That's a crime against just about everything
3) He's an employer not an employee. Therefore if any member of the family gets to go away for Labour Day it should be me.
Yes, I have given the matter quite a bit of thought actually. Yes I am sulking which is most unbecoming. But there is still time to fix this and the fur friends and I are working on a plan. Watch this space.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Turns out that spending money in the market stalls is more fun than spending money on laundry detergent. Who knew (apart from everybody)?
I didn't even get to the end of South Bank where the Buddha Birthday Festival is taking place. That might be tomorrow's project. Best not to get too distracted by all the fun things on offer especially when there are humans and canines at home thinking I might come home with the ingredients for dinner at some point.
When I did make it through the door I told the humans I decided to jazz things up a bit.
I think they assumed I meant something inspired by My Kitchen Rules or Masterchef rather than losing track of time watching the Quartet..
Friday, April 29, 2016
Well that was awkward. Being seen exiting a man's bedroom just after dawn. I'm not sure I can immediately recall his surname and that's not even the worst of it. Seconds later I was on the couch with another man. What a player, in the sense that all the world's a stage and we are merely players. For a person who lives and breathes the theatre, surprisingly, I spend no time on stage unless you count dressing up in academic robes for graduation ceremonies which always take place on the QPAC Concert Hall stage. But today was a rare exception. Every Friday, I speak theatre on 612 ABC Brisbane with Spencer Howson. In an awesome new initiative, Spencer and his crew are taking regular road trips to performing arts venues across the region for outside broadcasts. Today the show was broadcast from Beenleigh's Crete Street Theatre so instead of talking to Spencer in the studio we were on stage. The stage was set for Beenleigh Theatre Group's opening tonight of the bedroom farce Noises Off. A farce needs multiple doors and in that this one doesn't disappoint. Each guest emerged from one of those doors and my entrance was to be from an upstairs bedroom. Well, you can't let an opportunity like that go by can you? I enlisted the help of Brad the Traffic Guy. My name was called, the door flew open and there I was with Brad, looking all disheveled .... It's just as well I have a day job and generally restrict my work in the theatre to reviewing. But it's all a bit of fun and today had that in spades. In a morning that also included performances by a couple of choirs and an orchestra my favourite moment was veteran performer Ian Morrice sang She Bangs. Given this morning's comings and goings, that seems strangely appropriate.
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Student A. "Read a line". Then "Next Student. Next line". Analyse. What does that mean? Then write an essay, probably on whether Shakespeare is relevant today. Then shoot yourself because if Lear wasn't a big enough tragedy what Shakespeare in English classes did to generations of school students certainly is.
Shakespeare needs to taken off the page and on to the stage where it will shine and questions about relevance to today's audiences will be instantly silenced.
Every student in Brisbane studying Shakespeare should stand up, walk out of the classroom and into the Playhouse at QPAC and see Queensland Theatre Company's Much Ado About Nothing
From the moment the moon went down and the first rays of the sun rose over the ocean and the wind gentle wafts the curtains of the villa in the opening moments of the performance, it was clear this Playhouse production was going to be something special.
While the original play was set in Messina, a port town in Sicily, this production moves the action to another playground of the idle rich a mythical tropical island off the Queensland Coast.
The men have returned from war and are ready to play and the women are ready for the men. The genius of Shakespeare is that the could easily be a Rom Com starring Anne Hathaway and Hugh Grant – except the dialogue is too clever. There are acts which we would today call “slut shaming” or Twitter trolling, weddings that are on and off, a couple that everyone knows will end up together except them and a few songs to boot.
The comic timing is spot on with the bantering between Hugh Parker (Benedick) and Christen O’Leary (Beatrice) just magic to watch.
If you love Shakespeare you’ll love this. If you think High School English killed any chance there ever was of being convinced there is anything to The Bard this could just be the production that changes your mind.It would be a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions to miss this one. Oh, and speaking of tragedies, my heart bleeds for all of you who didn't get an invite to the opening night party at the Convention Centre. Man they do a good spread.