pumpkinstrokemarrow

Next up was a rather smaller plaque, memorialising the people who died in the mad cow plague, one of whom, as it happens, I happened to have known as a fellow grower of cabbages. I think she was a vegetarian so it was really a bit of a swiz..

We then thought, having just mucked around with all the clocks in the house over the change from summer time, to synchronise the two we had with us with Big Ben, generally regarded as reliable.

All this on the way to see the National Theatre to see 'The Veil'. On arrival, our first thought was that it had not been that long since we were last there. But neither of us could think what it might have been. The chap selling programmes couldn't help and didn't know anyone who could. So once we got home asked the blog - with the failure which prompted the last post. A failure which meant that I had to resort to turning the pages of the Filofax, which might be a fairly recent incarnation, but one which represents technology which I have been using for more than 40 years. Very old speak. Along with our recall capacity.

'The Veil' turned out to be a nice sequel to 'The Help'. In my comments on that on 31st October, I had not thought to include Ireland when citing a few places where we Brits. got up to the same sort of tricks as the Mississippians. But 'The Veil' was a tale, amongst other things, about masters and servants in the middle of 19th century Ireland, so the same sort of idea, but where the distinguishing features were race and religion rather than colour. Ireland was maybe not as brutal as Mississippi but there were, nevertheless, some pretty bad passages.

I liked the play, a new one from Conor McPherson, of whom I had not previously heard. Good bit of ensemble acting. Plenty of humour, wry & acute observation on the situation in hand. I suppose it was what one might call a cross between a costume drama and a sit-com, one with a few ghosts stirred in. Maybe a light hearted cross between Chekhov and Ibsen. We were very much of an age with most of this matinée audience, but rather more neatly dressed. Dress code at the National clearly very relaxed. It was also a rather subdued audience; applause at half time very half hearted, that at the end rather better. Maybe two thirds full.

But I must have drifted a bit at one point, because I kept mistaking part of the rather splendid scenery for an elephant. It was just the shape of one of those stuffed felt elephants you can get from mixed eastern bazaars and once the brain had locked onto this idea I had trouble shaking off the chains.