Like Chalk and Cheese

So, there has been a rather large, baby shaped gap in our blogging. Sorry about that. But it's high time we checked back in as we prepare for our final (probably) instalment of The Lost Tales for the forseeable future- WILTSHIRE!

Just to set the scene, I am typing this in the dark, to the sound of white noise (which has, since February, become the soundtrack to my life) with a miniature human sleeping (a little fitfully) beside me. I spend a lot of time in the dark with white noise and fitful mini humans these days. But bloomin' heck, those mini humans are cute.

Anyway, Chloe and I have been hard at work finalising and developing our new stories for our Wiltshire run and along the way we have been picking up many a delightful nugget of wisdom. And my favourite so far is the idea that the division of Wiltshire into North and South may well be where the phrase 'like Chalk and Cheese' come from, with the predominance of chalk on one side (of the A303!) and cheese as the main commodity emerging from the other. Who knew?

Chalk and Cheese has also sprung to mind a few times whilst trying to balance the two warring sides of my life right now, too. On one side my passions and my energy for my creative work, writing the new show, and on the other, Henry. Like chalk and cheese they have such different needs, and one can be a BIG distraction from the other. Chloe and I did manage to get the three new stories pretty well plotted the other day, but we had to do it with the mini beast lying on the bed right next to us. Could you concentrate with this gurgling away at you?!

Don't worry though, people of Wiltshire. Work continues apace, and we hope that you are going to love the stories we've chosen. There are a few classics in there, but we'll be giving them our Theatre Rush twist and adding a good old dose of silliness.  Our designer has the briefs so we may well share a few glimpses of the props when we get hold of them.

But for now, I must sign out. The ocean waves are a-crashing (white noise), the sun is a-setting (I go to bed at 8pm these days- rock and roll) and the mini human is a-murbling (he had his jabs today- this may well be the only sleeping he does tonight) and I must hit the hay.