a gentle meander where I will try ...

... not to become annoyed, but will fail, as everything seems to annoy me, and I must therefore accept I am yet another middle-aged Grumpy Woman.

That was the post title. This is the post.

Item the first : The New Palace Theatre. In a Plymouth Herald article today, it was revealed (news to me) that English Heritage had actually offered financial assistance for the upkeep of the property, which was not taken up. It doesn`t explain whether this was not taken up by the now imprisoned owner of the exDance Academy or some other body, or when this non-happening happened. My fear is that if the premises are `taken`from the owner as part of an `illegal gains` haul, the place will be left to rot into an unsafe structure which can only be remedied by pulling the whole lot down. It`s quite close to that now, I think. Which would probably suit the city council very well. (Shades of the old Exminster hospital site ... )

Do join the Facebook `Friends of the New Palace Theatre` group, run by Rich Tucker, and join the debate or just make some noises about what next? I am prepared to chain myself to the dirty brass doorhandle/s of the theatre if any city councillor suggests a new development on the site. It is a Grade 2 listed building, and it is unique, and it does encompass a huge amount of Plymouth`s social history in it`s quasi-rococo brickwork and tile. I believe one of English Heritage`s conditions for funding is that the building be used for the purpose it was originally built. This may be a big hindrance. I can only envision the theatre`s future realistically as a split into studios/workshop rooms and maybe a smaller performance space or spaces, for multiple community use.

This building is very dear to my heart, being beautiful, funny, charming, and full of soul. It has an air of hope about it, even in it`s current tragic state. Maybe because of it`s current state. It hangs on to life, in a delapidated, notorious area of Plymouth, and is a beacon of red brick turrety loveliness in an architecturally base environment. And more than that, the council needs to learn how to behave. Not everthing is improved by the new. The council here are famous for having no vision whatsoever, unless it aspires downward. O dear, I can feel myself becoming enraged ...

Item the second: Tom Daley. How is this young man going to rebel? He`s 16 years old. His life is ruled by what everyone else expects. How long can that last? Can he really be so sound and sorted as to move effortlessly, seamlessly from boy to man? Isn`t his dad a bit too attached to him? Will it end in tears? I don`t dislike his dad, but he does come across as rather too dependent on Tom to give his life meaning. Last night`s curiously directionless documentary, The Diver and His Dad, didn`t answer this dilemma, but did put it into the arena for consideration. Rob Daley said something about when Tom learns to drive at 17; would he still want his dad trawling around with him? Well, will he? I had a sense from the programme and various other news items about dad and son, that maybe Rob has a bit of a problem, regarding Tom being able to decide for himself what it is he wants. We dont know (or need to know) what that is yet, and maybe Tom doesn`t either, but it really needs to happen at some point soonish, for the mental well-being of that incredibly talented young chap.

Item the third: Fleas and things that bite. I`m sporting three horrendous insect bites, and don`t know what insect it was that caused them. I swear that I got all three while sitting at my computer desk, and okay maybe I did have the window open to the evening air. I immediately blamed Suki-next-door, as we`ve been entertaining/adoring/paying obeisance to this haughty creature while her owner`s been away in Africa (see last TLATW posting) and a healthy looking flea actually had the temerity to jump off the cat onto my hand, and, as I stared frozen with disgust, jumped back onto the cat again before I had a chance to run to the kitchen, fill a bowl with water, and drown it. I may have been misinformed about the best way to kill fleas, I agree. Certainly it`s the unlikely option, seeing as they leap very far and fast, and to get to the kitchen with a flea on my hand would take several seconds, during which time it would surely think Ey-up! (A Northern flea, apparently.) VJB was bitten by something which may have been a flea also. His bite is a small reddened bump no bigger than a matchhead. Mine are large watery blisters with a raised extended reddened ring around them, somewhat like a minor planet. The possible explanations are
a) my body`s juiciness quotient ( VJB`s theory)
b) a hyper-sensitivity or allergic reaction
or c) a horsefly got lost in Plymouth and ended up in my bedroom, under my shirt

That`s all for now.