Day to day musings of a cat minder/ sitter in North Tyneside and Newcastle upon Tyne . For details of services go to http://www.catminders.biz

Welcome to CatMinders

Welcome to CatMinders

Sunday, 15 March 2009

Me and the Posh Lollipop Lady

Last night I went to the read- through of the late Julia Darling's The Taxi Driver's Daughter at the Live Theatre In Newcastle with my friend Liz (already introduced on this blog as the paper making friend) . However she is a woman of many talents and besides that of getting me out last night , she introduced me to an Icelandic friend Hermina and together the latter and I pieced together what was going on onstage , easy enough for me but slightly more tricky for Hermina who although fluent in four or five languages found the Geordie accent a bit hard to decipher as the evening wore on , and struggled at times to work out who was who as mother- in- prison transformed into maternal grandma and then into taxi receptionist ( with attendant cough) stopping off in the park as a school bully for a few minutes . And without the benefit of costume changes ..... and with Liz jet lagged following a gruelling work trip to New Zealand and Fiji and dozing off as the non existent curtain rose , it was down to me to help her make sense of it all .
I loved the play and will now need to get hold of the book .
Those of you who are interested enough to read the link will note that there is mention of Ellen PhetheanCatCalls: The Complex Passport Adventure and will recall that recently my sister and I stumbled upon her son's passport on the beach .... it is a small world . Julia Darling: The Taxi Driver's Daughter

After the play Hermina headed for home and Liz and I repaired to a local restaurant , where we sprawled on sofas and looked at photos of her trip in the viewfinder of her digital camera . As well as New Zealand she travelled to Tahiti and Fiji where her baby Ben was buried soon after his birth and I was able to see pictures of his grave and headstone , now somewhat weathered almost sixteen years on . I look back down a long dark tunnel to the middle of the night phone call when she rang to tell me her baby had died inside her and now had to be delivered . I do not presume to know how , or whether she coped , but she has always been a truly amazing friend .
As we stand up to leave , she puts on her various fleeces and her fluorescent cycling jacket over her clothes as her bike is tethered around a dark corner somewhere . A young couple who had joined us on the sofas perk up and the woman quips cheerily , " hey are you a lollipop lady , no you can't be you're way too posh " and on that happy note we leave .
Another weekend .

Migraine Days

Migraine Days

Flower and Bee on a Sunday

Flower and Bee on a Sunday

art on a sunday

art on a sunday