Playhouse



I drive to my Friday Baby-sitting shift, wiping mist off the windscreen with wipers set to intermittent. The sheep are pressed in a bunch, collectively suppressing yesterday’s heat in their straggled chunks of fleece. Farmer Landlord has brought this modest flock to the fields recently, I'm not sure what breed but they are a rustically cute animal, a bit dilapidated, so very much in keeping with the rest of the property. I fetch Baby back to our cottage. She gets wood-dust knees and develops her friendship with Dog. After lunch, she is tired and tetchy, so Mr, Boy, Baby and me press in a bunch in the kitchen for singing and expressive dance. It reminds me of a John Cage quote; ‘theatre takes place all the time wherever one is, and art simply facilitates persuading us that this is the case.’ Our show is a resounding success. Baby sleeps for over an hour.





Comments

Arlee Bird said…
True-- Life is like one big show. We are always on stage.


Lee
Sad Songs Blogfests—Places I Remember
Wrote By Rote
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30 March 2012 at 23:30
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