That’s the name of the play I saw yesterday, by Lucy Kirkwood (b. 1984), a British playwright with a number of awards and productions already to her credit in Britain, New York and Toronto.. Wow.

I can’t help making personal comparisons, to my detriment. What was I doing at age 34? I had four children by that time, from 4 to 10 years old, the youngest one challenged. I’d written 4 or 5 puppet plays, produced and touring the Winnipeg elementary schools and in the Junior League library for productions in the U.S. I’d had my first main-stage production at the Manitoba Theatre Centre - a Canadian adaptation of Ibsen’s An Enemy of the People, set in Saskatchewan, and at the Workshop (forget what it was called), a production and provincial tour of my translation and adaptation of Molière’’s George Dandin, set in late 19th century Manitoba - all very local, nothing significant or world-changing. I was still learning (still am). When I was a student at the University of Manitoba, there were no playwriting classes, anywhere in Canada. (The National Theatre School was established in 1960, 8 years after I graduated.

The first play by a Manitoba playwright (Lulu Street by Ann Henry) was produced some time there, not published until 1975, by which time I was widowed and struggling to survive in Toronto. I did not enter the contest she won for a new play at MTC before my husband and I left for Stratford (in 1967) because I was learning how to teach my challenged son (see The Book of Matthew, McClelland and Stewart, 1984).

Ah, well, “ life is what happens to you while you were making other plans.” This line is most famously attributed to John Lennon, but it is credited to a number of other authors dating back into the 1950s, at least.

And my blog is what happens to you when I digress into other paths.

Tune in tomorrow (it’s already here).

Busy days. I may not make it today, either. Lots to report when I am here longer.

END OF DAY:

My father used to have advice about travel, but I find it applies to me wherever. There are three parts to every day, he would say: morning, afternoon and evening. You can do something for two parts, in any combination, but you can’t use all three parts, not and keep going the next day. Yes!

This morning I attended a lecture about archiving (I’m still working on my current files and I need all the help I can get). I had very little time to get from the morning event to an afternoon event, a 1 p.m. matinee of a play. I snagged a bag of potato chips to eat in the theatre. In my case, you have to count extra time and energy for getting lost. I’d been to both venues before, more than once, but I still went tin the wrong direction, also more than once.

By the time I got home I had a late lunch or an early dinner, not sure which, rested and watched - a baseball game, what else? The Dodgers beat the Brewers 5-2.. I tell you this as my excuse for not sitting down to blog. I have a lot to blog, too, I’ll make a list.

Speaking of lists, I’m doing quite well with my recent list of fiddlies, thanks to a good-weather delay, some efficient online assistance, and great help from dear neighbours. When I say help I mean, I stood around and watched them work, putting my balcony to bed for the winter. Of course, I have added some new - fresh - items, but I’m making headway. Not with my blogs, though.

Tomorrow is another day.