A Singing Flowerpot

This morning I woke up singing.

The song was, “I’m not at all in love, not at all in love, not I…” a wonderful romp of a song that gathers you up and swings you along, feet in the air, like a child.

Our first rehearsal of Pyjama Game (the musical) was last night and this was one of the songs.
It’s been six months since we performed Oliver which was the first musical I’ve done with Falmouth Theatre Company, and I loved it. I was in the chorus and had a wonderful time. Was bereft when it was over.

And now we’re starting all over again, right from the beginning, with a new musical director, producer, choreographer and pianist.

I wasn’t looking forward to it last night as I’d had One of Those Days. I was so tired I felt weepy (mood swings I fear), my back and legs ache from the side effects of the coil which means it’s very difficult getting comfortable, and I’d had a rejection from an agent for the last novel. Then one of my friends who’d been in Oliver rang up to say she’d decided not to take part in Pyjama Game as she’d got the video out again and just couldn’t get excited about it. And the kids were in Snow White so she felt it was their turn this time. She was really sorry.

I understood, of course, but my heart sank. I thought, it won’t be the same without her. (We were partners in crime in Oliver and had a good laugh which is vital. The others are pleasant but not on the same wavelength if you know what I mean.)

Also, we’d seen the video together and I wasn’t that struck either. My sense of doom increased. But I’d said I’d take another friend and introduce her, so I had to go. And thank God I did. She’s been having a bad time recently so it cheered her up, and as for me – well, it was marvellous just to sing again. Last night we sang through most of the major songs and I thought, YES!

I’m no singer – I mean, I’ve sung in choirs, but I’m not trained or anything. But even I can tell when I hit the right notes.

It was wonderful last night. Our voices took off like a flock of birds, soaring high into the air. Up and down we hovered, in and out, and all the time the music lifted us, brought us back down, swept over and under, and all that exhaustion went. We were alive again.

It’s like flying with your feet on the ground.

It reminded me how important confidence is. When I have it, I take it for granted. When it lapses, it leaves me floundering, like a bird with a broken wing.