Time to party

On being lucky enough to get an invitation to go the dress rehearsal of Jules Horne's new play, 'Thread', which is being put on by Nutshell Theatre as their piece for the Edinburgh Fringe this year, Mountain Man and I tore ourselves away from the Olympics late yesterday afternoon and drove off to the city.

We started off with a Thai meal at Spirit of Thai, just opposite The Usher Hall and very near to the location for the production. I've been there quite a few times before, though a few years ago, and luckily it hasn't really changed. I seemed to have forgotten about the portion sizes and we ordered far too much food and found ourselves with a doggy bag to drag to the theatre with us. It was a lovely meal though and we finished in good time.

When we were invited, we were asked to bring a piece of 'Troc' with us and for me it was hard to choose what I would take. My mother has the habit of buying us pretty awful souvenirs when she travels, which she does about 3 times a year. What I do is put the piece to one side and then after a couple of years I take it to the Charity shop. Out of the three pieces that immediately came to hand I chose a rather distasteful ashtray made from a tin can that had been cut and pared down to make it look "pretty", which I'm sure my mother bought somewhere in North Africa, but I can't be sure ... there's really no accounting for taste, but I'm sure someone somewhere will have thought this was a delightful gift! Anyway, Kate, the Director was suitably grateful.

Last year at the Festival I saw Jules's last play, also put on by Nutshell, called Allotment, which went on to win a prize. I loved it and wrote a tiny bit about it on this blog (which if you're interested you can read here). Both that play and this make the audience feel part of the play itself, as though we are integral and the action almost couldn't take place without us, which is an interesting theatrical device and works well.

Thread starts with a Beetle Drive and we, the audience, were split into teams to play. MM and I were paired with two, lovely young girls, both rather on the theatrical side (!), and surprise, surprise one of them was also called Vee! Anyway, we won. I was thrilled we didn't win back the hideous tin ashtray my mother had given us, and instead were given a Teddy, which the other Vee immediately decided was her's and to which the rest of us were quite happy to relinquish any claim.

I'm not going to tell you too much about the play in case you decide to go yourself, but suffice it to say although it begins with much hilarity, we get drawn into the complexity of the three characters interwoven lives and it is very poignant, to the extent I was almost brought to tears in places. It's on at Venue 175 in case you're wondering.

At the end, Young Vee came up and gave me an invite to a party on Sunday night. The company she's working for are putting something on at the Fringe, but they're having a 'do' to celebrate the start. A 'theatrical' party... oh yes!

And now it's time to hit the road. Mountain Man and I are off to Drumnadrochit, near Inverness, for a ceilidh party tonight. We were asked to wear a bit of tartan and it just so happens that while I was out in Edinburgh the other day I spotted a pair of very cheap, purple tartan trews, which I do realise are more than a 'bit of tartan' but I've never been one to hold back! At least they should be comfortable to swing around in and I'm sure you'll agree are very fetching. My only worry is that people will think I've gone in my pj's!

My new purple tartan trews

Unsportsmanlike behaviour at the Olympics

There I was watching a game of badminton the other night and was quite bemused at the boos and cat calls going on for a game on a court in the same hall, but not being shown. It was a bit confusing when the commentator was saying how disgusting it was. What was? No-one was enlightening us so Mountain Man and I had to turn to the online coverage to find out.

I have to say I would have been furious if I'd paid to go and see the game and had to watch world class players playing like some of us used to do in our village halls. The only difference being we were trying our hearts out and I think we would have struggled to flick a shuttle into the net or over a line on purpose as we had enough difficulty keeping the damn thing in.

However, as a former badminton coach I know that the game has a 'chess-like' quality, so no matter how wrong I feel this kind of play is, I can see how players might be tempted to try and manipulate the game they're playing in order to get a better chance of winning. The fact that this is played out in view of the world outside of badminton has, in my view, a great deal to do with those involved being banned. And I'm so pleased they have been.

Far better that this was out in the open and dealt with, which I have to say is more than can be said for the boxing. Last night I was watching the super-heavyweights in action and noticed that the Belarussian stood on the Ecuadorian's foot as he battered the poor guy, who couldn't move. This apparently wasn't seen by the ref, but the commentators saw it. Then he did the same again and again, which the commentators seemed to ignore and the ref was still blind to. I was incensed!

I really dislike seeing great sportspeople behaving in such a way. Definitely the ugly side of sport and so unnecessary and it does bring into question the whole ethic of the Olympic Games where it becomes clear that for some it's not the taking part, but the winning that matters.

The after show report

I love agricultural shows. I'm not sure if it's about seeing animals looking wonderfully well cared for and at their best, or the rather bizarre things you can see, such as drystone dyke exhibitions and dancing sheep to name a couple. Whatever, when I was asked to help out a friend with her carriage driving classes at the Border Union Show, something I've never done before or had any experience in, I said yes. I was a bit sad that I was already committed on Friday and couldn't get out of it or I would have been in the world of showing Shetlands in-hand, which is my comfort zone.

Luckily the day started well as, unlike the very early start that's demanded for in-hand classes - you have to be there early as judging tends to start at 8 am - I didn't need to be there until 9.30. It also helped that the sky was blue and sunny, though the forecast was threatening heavy showers later on. Still, a good start.

The only problem with taking part in an event I haven't a clue about is that I can't help with the tack. I don't know what goes where or even what it's supposed to look like. What I do know is that usually people take their very best carriages to show, but Anne (the friend I was helping) had had an accident with her youngster, who's just 4, a few weeks ago, where the carriage had turned over. Luckily no-one was hurt, but what it meant was that Daisy, the pony in question, was wary of the carriage, but was totally happy in the dogcart, which is... well a bit battered and bruised and next to all the other carriages at the show looked very scrappy. But far better that Daisy was happy to be there than being wary, as it was her first ever carriage driving show.

Anyway, once we'd got the dogcart and pony together we realised we were being waited for. Not a good thing to keep the judge waiting. We rushed off and got in the ring. I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing, but watched the other grooms and just followed them.

The six competitors went round and then were brought in. As groom I had to stand in front of the pony, keeping her straight. The judge went over the tack before Anne and Daisy had to do their individual show for the judge and immediately we were told we'd missed the curb chain off the tack. Of course in the real world this would be the groom's fault, but I totally absolve myself of guilt. There were other minor tacking misdemeanors to go along with this and by this time we absolutely knew we were bound to come in last. And we were right. However, imagine our surprise when we got our sixth place rosette and then the judge produced a cup. Apparently the first Shetland always gets a cup. I think the judge was as surprised as we were!

Anne with Daisy, the dogcart and the cup

After this we were asked to stay in for the next class to make up the numbers. I rushed off to grab the missing curb chain, we addressed the tacking issues and went back in the ring. Three ponies in this one and we came... third!

In the afternoon Anne took her other pony, Fingle in. He's 18 and bombproof. He's also tiny and was a huge hit with all the children. Sadly, not so with the judge and we came fourth out of four. And just as we were in the ring it poured. That was it for me. I'd had enough and after we'd got the ponies and cart back in the trailer I decided it was time for home.

Still, it was a lovely day and for the most part had been sunny and relatively warm and I had some interesting conversations and a good look round the show. Sadly I didn't get a photo of me with Doddy Weir, the Borders contribution to the Scottish and Lions Rugby teams, who always stewards at the event, as by the time I was finished with my morning pony duties he'd taken himself off somewhere else. I really wanted a pic as this year he had a different pair of tartan trews than the previous 2 years. Oh well, just have to try again next year. But just in case you've forgotten what his previous trews were like I've rehashed my photo from 2010 (I didn't get one last year either).

Don't you just love them trews!

 I thought I'd just end with a bit about the Olympics. I realise one of the things I feel is that I can get to watch sport I'd never usually see. I don't know much about archery, for instance, but watching the Italian men win gold with it all coming down to the last arrow late yesterday afternoon, was truly exciting. And today there's archery, rowing, sailing, swimming and a whole lot more. The only thing I worry about is my fitness. I can watch sport from 9 in the morning onwards and this is not conducive for anything more than high emotion, high blood pressure and slackening muscles. Oh well, as they say, the Olympics only comes round once every four years... so in some ways that's rather a good thing from my point of view.

Olympic update

I don't usually like Olympic opening ceremonies, though obviously they have to have them. I like the actual sport. I think it's something about the waste of money, resources, ego's etc etc that gets to me. However, last night I did watch it. 

I thought the initial green and pleasant land turns industrial was very clever and well done, but then I switched off (mentally) for a while as people danced and jigged their way through until the countries came on. I was fascinated as to how awful my knowledge of geography was... quite a few I never knew existed I'm ashamed to say.

Then there was the horror of what Team GB were wearing... I don't know who designed those, but they should be put up against a wall and shot in my view.

And the commentator then insisting that David Beckham was carrying the torch... no he wasn't, he was in the boat where someone else was carrying the torch while DB looked on with an inane grin on his face.

But all was redeemed by the truly fantastic Olympic torch lighting. What a feat of engineering and we should be rightly proud of that.

And then it fell apart again as Paul McCartney came on. I'm afraid I switched off at that point, it kind of ruined the moment for me.

So come on Team GB. Forget Paul and the crap outfits you were given to wear and focus on the magnificence of the torch. We can get some things right!

Can you believe it?

My husband's ex-business partner, the one who caused untold degrees of stress at the end of last year and beginning of this. The man who, instead of doing the gentlemanly thing and allowing the partnership to finish quickly and painlesslessly, decided to create difficulties, then fell out with his solicitors and ended up acting for himself thereby dragging the whole thing on for further months rather than weeks has done the weirdest thing. He sent me a message last night asking me to connect with him on Linkedin.

Now I don't know about you, but how could anyone possibly think that I would want to have anything, anything at all, remotely to do with a person who did that to my husband? Is he that insane? Sadly I think the answer is 'yes'. I think I'll leave it there!

No work whatsoever

When I did my Open University Creative Writing course last year I became pally with a few people. An online friendship is lovely, but it's also interesting when you get to meet someone in person. Well earlier in the year I was down in Dumfries for work and called in on one such OU friend who lives not too far from there and was the one who introduced me to the concept of the e-bike.

We've kept in touch and had recently arranged that I would go down and we would do some writing together. Sounds good, doesn't it? Well it would have been fine if we hadn't found so much to talk about.

I arrived at her house just after midday yesterday in the pouring rain to be greeted by her three gorgeous rescued dogs (2 German Shepherds and a Jack Russell) and we then spent over 12 hours (yes, 12!) talking. There was a bit of alcohol involved, a hot tub in the rain and wind, and some lovely food, but basically all we did was talk. Not one pen lifted or even computer keyboard struck in the name of creativity.

Today was no different really. We went for a walk, took my e-bike out for a tiny jaunt, but essentially it was about a lot of talking.

So did it matter that no work was done? I don't think so, but the only thing is I do wonder when we get together again if we will ever get any writing done. I hope so, but I couldn't swear that things will be any different. In fact I think I would pretty much swear that there would be no change at all!

How will I cope?

As I'm sure most of you know, I'm completely sport mad and what an incredible afternoon this has been for any sports enthusiast with Mark Cavendish's incredible sprint to win the final stage of the Tour de France and Bradley Wiggins fantastic Maillot Jaune triumph. The only problem was that I got so emotional and ended up over-excited and in tears.

Then there was the German Grand Prix. There was Jensen Button in second place and was overtaken by Sebastian Vettel on the last lap, but the overtake was investigated and Jensen Button was moved up to second. Another opportunity to get emotional.

What worries me is that the Olympic Games starts very, very soon. I can just imagine a whole 17 days of me being completely over the top. I'm not sure my emotions will be able to cope... you have been warned!