A Long Three Weeks

My last posting was three weeks ago. Since then, I have cut all the parts for the rolling double-sided pieces, finished the tree, taped the stage to indicate where things probably will be, taken the sound equipment (including the new mixer!) back over to the church sanctuary and battled burnt out amplifiers for many hours, had two Saturday work days, pretty much finished the sets, and oh yeah, cooked and cleaned and scooped litter all de liblong day.

I have decided that somewhere along the line, somebody set up a computer program to design a theatre that features optimum inefficiency and difficulty. I know that I am at a loss to imagine a more inconvenient situation. Switch over to "The Business Of Show" and read all about it!

Cat Toys

Today was a perfect lesson in cat toys. Our friend Ann gave us a cute little plastic fabric arch with a ball on a string hanging down on the inside. She gave it to us because - wait for it - her cats weren't interested in it. We figured, hey, Lucia will play with anything. We put it down on the floor, and Lucia immediately went for the swinging ball. She broke the string and ran it around the house until she passed a plastic pull-plug from a milk carton. Ball forgotten; milk plug all over the house. Professor Remus J. Lupin walked over to the arch and began giving it a good long liesurely but thorough sniffing. Carmen wondered aloud if, when he smelled Ann's cats on there he got an image in his mind's eye of what they look like. We'll never know. So the arch thing is abandoned and the really fun stuff like bottle lids keep flying. Gotta love cats.

Paralysis

Here I sit. The tree in the basement is mostly done. It needs to be coated with glue and then painted, and yet here I sit. I have a list of things to buy for the rolling double sided pieces, and I can't begin building them until I purchase materials - and yet here I sit. The current MCT show has one more weekend to run before that set will be disassembled, beginning the panic-ridden transformation of the stage into sets for The Secret Garden during three Saturdays. The tree and the rolling units need to get done ASAP - and yet here I sit. I think about going down there to work, and something freezes up inside me. I don't understand why that is or, more pertinently, why I can't seem to break through and just get 'er done. What's wrong with me?