I have flatlined my bank account. Was totally worth it. Nothing, not even the prospect of financial ruin can shake my sense of glee and anticipation on this one. We will just have to do the peas on toast again, or the tinned peach and mashed potato combo, but I'm happy for it; I'll simply take my chances with the reduced bins at Aldi.
Basically, it is part of my grand ambition to have Shark, Squirrel and Tiger see every Shakespeare play before age 16. We've notched up a few already, but for the coming months I've blown the food budget on some upmarket crackers: the National's Othello, the RSC Antony and Cleopatra, Titus Andronicus, the Red Rose Chain Taming of the Shrew, Illyria's As You Like It, and the Globe's Macbeth. The Tempest I paid for ages ago, so I'm not counting that.
My only regret is that I am still short to get us in on the Henry VI trilogy.
Bah, something will turn up. And if it doesn't, I could sell my body down the local canal. Cost one hundred and eighty plus two pound fifty booking fee.
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2 comments:
Very admirable. I wish my mother had had such ambitions for me. I'm sure I would have been much more enlightened today. As it is, I suffer from a cultural shortage that I will never catch up on. Woe is me!
noooo irene, i would not say you suffer from a cultural shortage! it is worse for me. i get a view of something and i have to go after it, no matter how pointless or foolhardy the enterprise!
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