I was planning to do some washing and then go into town for a potter, a bit of leaflet distribution around some hotels and to buy a new flannel (I can just feel your excitement rippling from here).
It's cleaner day, new bedding day so it's a bit like childhood 'clean up your room' morning. I tidied everything up, got everything off the floor and stripped my bed. Every single day at that time, so far, I'd been in the room doing some writing or reading in the morning but today I was outside in the garden playing with the dogs.
Which is why I wasn't there when the painting fell off the wall, smashing its glass and sending it in all directions.
The nail's still in the wall so there was no reason for it to happen. And the painting's of a peace dove with the caption 'give peace a chance' so that's a bit ironic. My healer and homeopath both said (when I told them) what basically amounted to this: "Bugger peace — you are supposed to go out and smash it, have the adventure. You are learning to harvest and use the energy."
There may be a little more to it than that. The last two nights have been very restless with the feeling that something was trying to get out. Maybe it has. Time will tell.
Anyway, the lovely Anne-Marie cleared it all up — wouldn't even let me help — and the picture's back on the wall. I've got some holy water and some cleansing essence so I'll just make sure before all the same.
So, the next step was to go into town. But my friend Adam got in touch on Skype and that was two hours gone before I knew it.
Adam is coming to Edinburgh for the rest of the Fringe next Monday. He's a dear, dear friend and he'll be coming to the show, treating me to lovely suppers and accompanying me to a load of shows. Lovely. But he's a bit of a worryer. So we spent most of the afternoon tracing routes between where he will be staying, where I'm performing, where we'll eat the first night — and the second night — and looking at some shows online.
Before I knew it, I was going to have to get going pretty darn fast even to get to Ryrie's on time! The best laid plans etc...
Tonight I thought that I'd dress up a bit. I've been wearing jeans but I've got a lovely peacock jacket and silk trousers with me so I wore those instead. And two people turned up. There's no rhyme or reason to it given last night's numbers!
I didn't mind; one of them was the most gorgeous lady and it would have been worth it to do the show just for her. The other was a guy I've seen in the pub most nights, always slightly worse for wear.
Unfortunately, he is obviously a bit of a put-off for others because I saw at least seven other people come into the room in the first five minutes, see he was there, and turn away.
He was a nice guy; lonely but intelligent but the comedian's nightmare — the helpful heckler. He offered clarifications some on jokes, asked for explanations on others, started talking about his relationship with Christianity ... all reasonable stuff but when you take a comedian off their line, a lot of the jokes get lost because you simply can't backpedal in a lot of cases.
So I missed probably seven points in the show which led to a joke ... and was grateful that I did have extra material that I could throw in to fill the time.
Jane, however, laughed and laughed and laughed. I don't think I've had a better audience member any night. So many people of our age chuckle or purr with amusement. Jane laughed. She threw back her head and laughed. She was wonderful. And she was generous too. Odd how the money you collect in donations (so helpful in buying lunches and suppers!) often bears no resemblance to the numbers.
So an odd day but, in all, nothing bad about it. I am content. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?
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