Last evening I had a lot of fun! Four of the diocesan staff and myself went out for a delicious dinner at Beer Brothers (check out the apricot mustard soup...delish!!), then headed upstairs to the Globe Theater to enjoy their production of "Salt Baby".
The play is written by aboriginal playwright Falen Johnson and tracks the struggles of a First Nations young woman who does not look aboriginal enough and takes quite a bit of hassle from her reserve. So she moves to the city and tries to make it there instead. It is quite a good play. The acting is decent and the sets are minimal but very effective. It represents both sides of the prejudice issue quite well. One of the resolves of the character's struggle at the end of the play is that it doesn't matter who you are by blood type, it is who you "know" yourself to be inside. Sigh.......it is a message that has some truth to it, but as a Christian it isn't satisfying for me. I never have believed that our inner feelings are our only, or even our best, means of defining ourselves, but that is a topic for an academic theology paper rather than a simple blog post.
I had never been to the Globe Theater before. I like it. Theater in the round always appeals to me and the Globe is also much smaller than I had envisioned, so there are no seats too far away from the actors. It is kind of an intimate space, quite enticing and friendly as "spaces" filled with strangers go. I am looking forward to the next play our group attends in March.
When we came outside afterward there were about 3cm of snow coating the streets and vehicles. (About another 2cm came down overnight, so there was some sweeping and shovelling to attend to here at home after my husband went to work this morning.) This is my favourite kind of snow: broad, flat, shiny, light as a feather flakes. They look like the old Maple Leaf pure laundry detergent soap flakes, like the snow on a movie set. It was fun sliding our feet along the sidewalk as we headed over to the car and watching the flakes glisten under the street lights.
Before going to bed last night I started reading Canadian author Ann-Marie MacDonald's "Fall On Your Knees". (Vintage Canada, 1997) I am only 60 pages into it but am so enjoying it. I am probably the last person in the country to be reading this #1 national bestseller, but glad I finally came across it. In that first 60 pages I have learned more about the mines and miners of Cape Breton at the turn of the last century than I knew before. The story is interesting and it is also a bit of a history lesson for me. The Company Stores run by the mine administrators that turned miners and their families into the equivalent of indentured servants are explained well. In school when we studied too briefly the history of the settlements of the Maritimes, we didn't get much into the social and employment issues of those times.
PS: so far it is also a novel gloriously free of the "F" word appearing several times per page. It is too well written to need it!
Well, I ate a very early breakfast this morning as our neighbour was out scraping his shovel along the sidewalk about 6am, followed immediately by the arrival of the maintenance bobcat operators who had to back up all the cats from the storage yard with much "backup beeping" occuring over about a 10 minute period. Sleeping past 6am around here on a weekday is virtually impossible! So, I am going to peruse the contents of the refrigerator and see what I can come up with for an equally early lunchtime. Either that or I will have a giant glass of water and try to stave off the hunger pangs for another hour so that I don't need an afternoon snack before dinner tonight.