Never saw a stage door that I did not burst through, never having had appropriate respect for that Third Wall.
Or is that the Fifth Wall. Wailing Wall. Fifth Wheel. You know, the barricade of Imagine.
At the play last night was, amongst others, directress Debra Cole, and Mike of FLYNN'S fame. Zut alors! Yours Truly shouted internatlly upon seeing him in all his Buddha reserve, serenity.
Katharine and I had business to attend to - getting Annie her much-deserved giant bouquet of pink fleurs. So what if it wasn't yet the end and it was only half-time.
We were running up some institutional stairs, arm-in-arm, when I saw the designating sign on the door. And there we found ourselves, cramped behind a curtain with all the players, hunting for Annie's face in the small crowd. We gave her some hugs, kisses, and left the greenish roomish area. Being an aunt I got the children hepped-up on cookies and Skittles, Jake fishing about for them the whole rest of Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean. What did Jake the teen find most engaging about the drama. The talk of boobies. Me, too.
Just got back from photographing a man who has made his life work about mushrooms small, large, fetid, and oso much more. Mushrooms. He does not hunt them, I was told by his über-wife, He says you should get them from the market.

Puffball Love.