Bugle Boy

Groover practices the Bugle for his upcoming role of Teddy in Arsenic and Old Lace

Well rehearsals have started and now we are without Groover’s company two to three nights a week as he heads to Midland to rehearse for Blak Yak‘s upcoming production of Arsenic and Old Lace.

(the season is in June – don’t miss it)

This is Groover’s first foray into community theatre and he has to learn the bugle.

(Luckily I spoke to someone today whose brother is in the Navy band and plays the bugle – how cool is that!)

Anyway… he’s done Mr Cha Cha’s ballroom and Theatresports but this is “proper” theatre with lines to learn and everything.

And it’s quite a commitment – 2 to 3 nights a week and more as the season gets closer.

He seems to relish this new experience and told me over dinner tonight he would definitely look for more opportunities.

Having said that he was spotted listening to the last five minutes of the Dockers fabulous win on Sunday…

Groover listens to the Dockers at Rehearsal for Arsenic and old lace

But honestly – who could blame him?

It was an AWESOME win!

[more photos from rehearsals]

The Alpha Couch

Picture of our sofa with Groover lying along it with the remote on his chest

Last night at dinner we were discussing dominant partners in the couples we know.

It’s pretty obvious (mostly) who calls the shots.

Now I think Groover and I have a pretty equal relationship but it turns out I’m wrong.

Very wrong.

Yeah, we’re pretty equal… says Groover, as he forks in another mouthful of steak and salad.

(still on the low carb diet)

Cough splutter… from our daughter.

I’m sorry… says I.

You don’t think that’s right?

Er no, she says, Dad’s the one on the alpha couch.

It seems that pecking order in our house is down to the sofa you choose in the lounge room.

Bugger!

My thespian

No.  These fellows in the pool are not thespians.

Well… they might be… but more likely they are miners.

I’m in Karratha and that is the pool at the caravan park where I’m staying.

And yes.  I did slip into the water in my bikini.

I stayed up my end though. 🙂

Last night I was in Frenantle at the Victoria Hall on stage.

Yes it was my first Theatresports performance.

Groover was on first and you know what?  He is a natural.

First up he led his team in a children’s television style impro – very funny.

Then they sang a tribute song – a la “We Are The World” – to the audience suggestion of the cause of flatulent children.

“The Wind in You” was fantastic.

I was offstage wetting my pants laughing.

But not for long because then it was my turn to be on stage.

I was lucky to be paired with a seasoned theatresports pro and a drama teacher and they were brilliant.

It was such fun I wanted to keep going.

After the interval we were heading back upstairs for the second half.

Groover had a glass of wine and when we heard a woman say “Excuse me…” we both thought she was going to tell him off for taking it into the theatre.

But no.

She was trying to get his attention to encourage him to audition for Arsenic and Old Lace.

“Can you do accents?”

Can he do accents?  Of course.

How groovy is that!  After only two performances in his life!

We went upstairs to watch the second half – all the really experienced players do the second half and it is awesome – and Groover had such a big grin on his face.

If you live in Perth and want a fun night out – trust me the second half is hilarious – come down to the Victoria Hall – performance starts at 6pm and it is all over by eight.

More info

Meantime I’m in sunny Karrachi (as the locals call it).

I’ve played some social tennis tonight and tomorrow night we’re heading out to Dampier for some Chinese food.

Sounds like a plan to me.

Happy Anniversary

I took this photo on a bright spring morning

It was a beautiful spring day today.  the warm sun, so long denied us warmed my back as I set about putting my neglected garden in order.

Well pulled a few weeds anyway.

It is a satisfying thing to see a well swept back passage and no, that is not a euphemism.

Afterwards I pulled out my recliner and read my book in the dappled sunlight under my pergola.

I have been married today for 17 years.  That’s a long time isn’t it?

One ought to be able to celebrate milestones on one’s blog don’t you think… anniversaries, firsts, the cute things your kids say like:

“Mum!  You are NOT taking my photo!  You are NOT blogging this!!”

So that little milestone will go unrecognised on my blog sadly except with this oblique reference.

In the meantime – a batch of chocolate chip cookies has kept the family happy today.

Milestones

It’s Groover’s birthday today and I bought him a…

groover_birthday

Food processor.

He wanted one!

Happy birthday darling – can’t wait to taste the results. 🙂

Also tonight Dipp got the results from her recent karate grading.

She had a triple grading and has jumped from a white belt to a yellow belt.

yellow_belt

Don’t mess with Dippity.

She is a lethal weapon.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

grooverhair

It cost $20 over the internet, it’s stripey – a bit like my old ginger tom cat, Samson, in fact it even looks a little bit like a little animal curled on his scone – it twinkles in a “I’m made of synthetic materials” way in the sunlight, and apparently it’s a little hot and sweaty, and yet…

And yet, I don’t hate it.

His own mother didn’t recognise him.

I’m long used to the hair deficient nature of my bloke. 

His male pattern started when he was around 17 and by the time I met him (aged 25) the writing was on the wall.

I simply don’t care.

In fact, running my hands through a full head of hair these days would feel… a bit wrong.

And the thing I’ve always appreciated about Groover is his acceptance of it.

It’s so attractive in a man, don’t you think?  In anyone I guess.

I would much prefer to have a man with no hair, than say a man with lots of hair and a fat beer belly… or a man with hair and no sense of humour.

How dreary would life be?

And frankly I would be continually running out of shampoo and conditioner – as it is, Groover doesn’t use it.

So I was surprised that I didn’t hate the wig as much as I thought I would. 

In fact, I forget it’s a wig (I know that sounds unbelievable but it’s true), and just accept it as Groover within minutes of him putting it on.

It’s even confronting when he takes it off for a minute or two.

Not that he wears it often – just to stir his mum really and only within the house.

It makes me wonder what he would look like with a proper wig – one made of real hair, one fitted properly.

The question is – would it turn me off in the bedroom?

Smug satisfaction

It’s a little bit embarrassing to admit this but I feel a little kernel of smug satisfaction when I’m right… and Groover’s wrong.

Take the other day.

We were on our way down south (for our 19th anniversary meeting getaway).  A friend had kindly lent us her convertible and we were excited about exploring all the features.

We set off sharing a large coffee, sunnies on, the top up and before we’d turned the corner I suggested we take the top down before we hit the freeway so we could feel the wind in our hair (well, my hair) and the sun on our sunscreen covered shoulders.

There’s a button on the overhead console.

You do the honours, said Groover magnanimously and then…

No!  Not that way!

I’m sure it’s this way, said I.

You’re wrong, he said.

But though we pressed it this way and that, the roof refused to retract.

We pulled over and I consulted the manual… what?! I’m a girl!

It appears that the luggage separator must be fully employed, I read from the passenger seat as Groover in that manly way that guys have around cars opened the boot and starts shuffling luggage.

Try that, he said, but the roof again failed to budge.

I’ll try, I said, as Groover sat back in the driver’s seat.

On the luggage separator is a little diagram and I could see that it hadn’t been – what did they call it – fully employed.

I “employed” it, repacked the suitcases and said, it’ll work now, and it did, when, that is, he pressed the button in the way that I suggested!

I felt so good!

Yes I suppose it’s a little mean spirited but there is a LOT of satisfaction being right around Groover.

He’s just so confident in his opinion and capabilities, some inane part of being a bloke I suspect.

And, if I’m honest, it feels even better when I am right and he is wrong.

So we’re driving along, top down, wind in hair etc, and I mention this feeling to Groover.

Does it feel the same to you when you’re right, and I’m wrong?

No.  I’m just happy that the problem is solved.  It’s not a competition you know.

Yeah right.

And then the GPS incident occurred, but that’s another story.

We are all in the gutter

A guest post from Groover:

It was Oscar Wilde who penned the line, “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars”.

It’s a favourite of mine, along with many other Wilde quotes, but to me it perfectly describes the principle that it is not circumstance that defines us, but our attitude and response to those circumstances.

I came across this on my way to work today. I thought that it was a discarded bouquet of flowers but on further inspection it turned out to be the perfect embodiment of my attitude to life from this moment on.

We may all be economically “in the gutter” but from now on, I’m this plant.

Living full-out in the moment, shouting at the world that this maybe a gutter but look at me I’m giving life a red-hot go and doing what I do best.

Today I paused and noticed the flowers. They taught me a valuable lesson.