Thursday night I watched the Young Vic production of A Streetcar Named Desire on YouTube. The well-advertised lead is Gillian Anderson and she’s great as Blanche. But her sister, Stella, is played by one of my favourite actors: Vanessa Kirby, whom I adored as Princess Margaret in season two of The Crown. She’s impossibly good at everything I’ve seen her do.
It’s a great, hot, jarring, raw production. It’d be too much for me to take, live; I’m glad I saw it at a distance, via film.
Honestly, the National’s shows every week are the highlight of my week (when it’s not Shakespeare). Theatre is one of the most magnificent of human activities.
The boys are in! We’re playing Croquet next week. I’m going to propose Wednesday. We’ll picnic together/apart and then play a game. I’m going to bake something to take for our desert.
This morning, I walked with Eoin and then I watered the gardens before taking some time to lie down and nap in the on again, off again, sunshine. Next, it’s off to dog romping before I have a spa. Tonight, I make cookies and do more reading of Tara Westover’s memoire, educated.
I tried to read The Alice Network, by Kate Quinn. I got two pages into it and was done. I may read it if I’m desperate, sometime—but probably not. It was as immediately off putting in the extreme, as educated is seductive.
Fred decided to use my marijuana seedlings, in the little peat boats, for play. Dirt and seedings were lying about the house. The seeds cost about fifty-five dollars! I put root hormone on the bottom of the stems and re-seeded them.