1st February Two down, one to go
Over the last two weekends TOM and I have been tucking into a right old Pomegranate feast. Not, I should hasten to add, one involving the fruit of a 1000 seeds but rather the delightful little theatre in Chesterfield and their season of Spring plays. Pre pandemic we used to enjoy a regular little jolly here to watch some locally procued offerings, a fee touring productions and the occasional National Theatre Live perfromance on the big screen, so it was nice as plan B moved stuttteringly into Plan A that we could recommence our thespian inclinations once again. Performed by a company who's work we have seen before, we knew that we were in for a good evenings entertainment, even if the audience was perhaps a little sparse. First up a week ago was Funny Money, a dose of Ray Cooney farce magic, in which the consequence of picking up the wrong suitcase (one full of 3/4 million pounds) on a commuter train led to all sorts of rib tickling confusion. So much so that bits of scenery fell ...