We have entered that long dark period of dreariness where the sun of Michael's face will barely shine upon us for the next two weeks. It is officially playtime.
Rehearsals have been stepping up the pace for some time now, but so gradually that one hardly noticed them coming, except on Thursdays, which were very long days since Michael rarely made it home between work and rehearsal, and Sundays, when he'd be gone most of the afternoon and evening. But it started in earnest last week, with Wednesday and Thursday blocked off, and Friday evening being his last free evening before the end. Saturday was an all-day affair, Sunday was longer than ever, and there are dress rehearsals and run-throughs every night this week until Wednesday, which is Opening Night, also the day Jane turns three months old. Performances are every night this week and weekend, twice on Saturday, and then next week as well (though I think not every single night). It's been such fun, and a great time is being had by all (I do love it when I can stay for a rehearsal, and enjoy watching the practise and watching everyone else watch Jane), but it will be a relief when it is over. Yesterday was dress rehearsal run-through, and I stayed all afternoon at the church to watch. It was a very long day, but it went by much faster than it would have if I'd gone on home and pined away.
On the drive back Michael asked me if I could write a poem using the words Motel, Hodel, and bottle. 'They sound so similar, they're just begging to be written into a poem,' he explained. So I packed the following in his lunch box today:
Down at the wedding of Tzeitel and Motel
Perchik broke rank and was dancing with Hodel.
I had no date, so I danced with a bottle.
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