We had our dress rehearsal last night. Fun, exhausting, full of laughter and sweat and missing costume pieces and infuriating microphones and confusing set pieces.

The absolute worst part of doing this is, every night the set must be taken down. Every. Single. Night. Including all the lights. Sheesh.

The city won't pay for a 24 hour guard for four days, and our theatre company can't afford it. That makes for a lot of work, folks and folksters.

But I had fun out there under the lights, I enjoyed myself tremendously playing a couple of sassy/stupid servants and a Widow who believes she's better than everyone else in town.

Driving home, however, reminded me of my age. My knees still ache from working on a cement floor.

Tonight is opening night. Years ago I would have expected flowers and presents from friends, or at least from Hubby. But those romantic days (youth, theatre, youth, etc) are gone. I'll pack my own ibuprofen and bottle of water, and at the end of the evening be very glad to crawl into my own bed.

For now, I have some focaccia to make. It's a beautiful, cloudy chilly day. The beginning of autumn? Perhaps. Or perhaps just a brief respite from a summer that can linger until October.