Macbeth and memories

P. is 11 now and finishes Primary School in less than 2 weeks. As is traditional, her ‘year’ – the Upper Juniors – put on a school play. “Macbeth – the musical”. I’ve not read Macbeth or seen it before so it was both a chore to sit through (I find some school stuff interminably boring) and also educational in that it was The Arts. From the rather concise performance it would seem that Lady Macbeth has problems, Banquo shouldn’t be so trusting and I have no clue where MacDuff came from. Or went. Anyway, P was one of the witches / wierd sisters. Now when she got the role she was in floods of tears when she got home that day. “I’m only a witch” was all she cried. Thankfully she realised that it was – at least in this version – a fairly good role. So the play went really really well, even allowing for the heat (the woman sitting in front of me was Clanky’s doppelganger. Clone even. Not that that had anything to do with the heat, I was just mentioning it. As you do.) and the musical numbers were tolerable. Then there was an obviously humourous part involving the 2 assassins. They were singing/acting to a set piece of music but even though it was meant to be funny, it was hilarious simply because one of the lads had superb comic timing and his gestures and facial expression were perfect. J says when I laugh properly I sound like Barney Rubble and today I certainly did. The two lads really did round off the performance. And I needed the laugh too.

But for me and J, it rounds off our involvement with Primary School. Few years ago when I was stood at a bus stop in the village an old lady came along from a house almost opposite and stood waiting for the bus too. She started remarking that I had two wonderful little girls. I must have looked quite surprised at her because she then explained that she had seen me walking past her window over the years and had watched the girls grow up. She mentioned me carrying them against my chest, then in a buggy, then walking as we went to nursery school, primary school, the shops. She wasn’t ‘stalker talking’, she didn’t even seem nosey, just a lady who happened to notice.. and at the end of next week our final tie with that village will be cut. It’s only 2 villages away but it’s where – for us as a couple and and as a family – so much was hoped for, so much was wanted and so much happened. In one way, it’s nothing but in another there are memories there and you can’t take those away can you ?

4 thoughts on “Macbeth and memories

  1. Oiy, you’re killing me with the lack of Shakespeare exposure. Hehe. But you got the basic plot, so good on you. Admittedly, MacBeth is not really one of my favorites…but anyhow, totally o/t I’m terribly behind in the daily reads department, when did the Bandwidth thing appear on the sidebar. :) I’m terribly intrigued.

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