Yesterday was a rehearsal day. I bundled up all the newest scenery and costume parts and fought my way to the rink. It was freezing and it was windy. Scary windy. Hauling all my junk through the parking lot was no fun.
This is my starting place for the Snow White number. I am the old hag and those two girls in front of me are my crows. We do a little thing to "I Put a Spell on You" from Hocus Pocus.
This is my basket and apple/painted pumpkin. It's the last thing I saw before I hit the ice. I skated out did my thing and then wham....for a reason I can't explain my feet went out from under me and I was on my back watching my apple/painted pumpkin fly up into the air in slow motion. All the kids were sure the old lady was dead so they broke character and came to my rescue. I was mortified. The only thing bruised was my ego.
At the other end of the rink, our brand spanking new adult group was practicing our latest production and trying out the bus I had been slaving over. I really hoped they hadn't noticed. There is no one even close to my age in the group and I hate the idea of being the weak link.
I would say that maybe it's time I stick to the sidelines and do what I do best, the scenery, but after seeing this wonky bus in all it's wibbly wobbly wonkiness it makes me think that maybe I better just stick to knitting. That I can do.