We woke up this morning to a fairyland garden, with just enough snow to cover the lawn and the bushes with a lacy table-cloth. Half an hour later and it was all washed away by persistent rain.
Mr B says we should be grateful because if it wasn’t for the horrid rain we would probably be knee deep in snow. And how lucky I am, he continues, not to have to go to
work this morning and worry all day about the snow returning and making my homeward journey hell. It’s unusual for Mr B to be the one who’s thinking positive. Long may it last.
Possibly the reason for his high spirits is that we have our afternoon planned out for us. Lunch at the Cafe Continental followed by seats at the cinema for the 1 p.m. performance of Les Miserables. Miserable outside, Miserables
inside – there’s nothing like a bit of consistency for a happy and contented life.
The charming lady sitting next to us in Row L tells me that she
has never seen the stage show of Les Mis and that it was a toss-up between this and Skyfall, which is playing in the second cinema next door. I offer her a Werther’s Original but she says she has her sandwiches with her and plans to start eating them
at exactly 2 p.m. which is when she usually has her lunch. I hope she isn’t a noisy eater because it would be really off-putting if she starts munching while Anne Hathaway starts dreaming her dream.
As it turns out, she could probably have buttered the bread, sliced the ham and the tomato, and cut her sandwich into neat quarters and I wouldn’t have noticed – so mesmerising was the story unfolding on the screen.
Now to be honest, I haven’t read Victor Hugo’s original novel, though I did once visit his home on Guernsey. I remember there was a particular window, through
which he could see his mistress’s house and, presumably, keep a suspicious eye on her comings and goings. However I do know the story, as told on stage, extremely well, having seen it performed twice in London and once (my favourite time) on stage
in Cardiff’s beautiful Millennium Theatre. Did you know that every seat in the Millennium Theatre has its own individual air conditioning system? The Son And Only, who is good at such priceless gems of information, told me this and I am pleased
to be able to pass it on to you as I like the Daily Blog to be educational sometimes. Also, if you ever have tickets for a show at the Millennium Theatre on a swelteringly hot summer’s day (remember them?) then you won’t need to be worried about
over-heating. Except with emotion, in the case of a production of Les Mis.
Oh, yes, it was emotional. “Did you cry?” the Youngest of the Darling
Daughters texts me just as we arrive home. “Only most of the time,” I respond, proudly. Remember, I am blessed with the Usher Gene, which brings me (and all others who possess the gene) to helpless tears when faced with anything remotely
sad. I am the person who cried during “Despicable Me” when we watched it at Christmas. This made such an impression on two of my grand-daughters that they have mentioned the fact in all their Christmas thank you letters. So now everybody in the
family knows and there is fat chance that I will live this one down in a hurry. And just when everyone has forgotten how I cried in “Hotel for Dogs” too...
However tears during Les Miserables are a quite different matter and nothing top be ashamed of. Let's face it, there was not much chance of me surviving Les Miserables without some serious weeping of the Tears Pouring Down The Cheeks variety.
I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one. Even Mr B blew his nose on more than one occasion. He says he thinks he is starting a head cold...
Some of our
Cribbage friends are refusing to see the film because they love the stage show so much. I don’t think it would spoil it one little bit – in fact it might enhance their understanding of some of the characters. Though I doubt we will convince
them on Friday when we meet up for our fortnightly cribbage session.
The only thing about Les Miserables is that it does leave you feeling – well, miserable.
Almost everyone dies, after all. However you know what old Victor said, don’t you: “There is nothing like a dream to create the future.”
I can relate to that.