To be, or not to be....

In a previous post, I mentioned how I enjoy attending plays, theatre, concerts, etc. Living outside of a major urban centre was not always conducive to getting to these events, but now I have the good fortune -- being able to afford, and to access --  so, away I go!

When I attend plays at Stratford, or see concerts or theatre in Toronto, there's something that amuses me. It's rare to see people attending -- or in advance, eating -- alone. Does one's need to appear socially acknowledged or accepted prevent the freedom of coming and going whenever they like? Is companionship during entertainment outweigh the individual pleasure of the event?

I'm amused when people ask me "who are you going with?" Grammar aside, I shake my head at that question. By going by myself, I can arrive as early or last minute as I want; I don't have to worry if the person I'm with likes my choice of seats or begrudges the cost, or whether they like the music, the plot or the location.

This week in Stratford, I watched groups of people make inane small talk, feigning interest in what the person seated across from them at dinner was saying. At the theatre, they worried whether their seats were okay and if their group could see, or why someone was late, and would they be seated on time.

I people watched. I wandered through the garden at the Festival Theatre at my own pace; I drove around Stratford looking at the older homes. I wasn't concerned about time, where to park or what kind of restaurant to choose for dinner.  I had a quick, pleasant conversation with a resident about her garden; a mother and daughter drew me into their conversation briefly while we were waiting for service; I had a great chat about feminism in Shakespeare's "Taming of the Shrew" with the person in the seat to my left at the theatre, and a lovely stranger on the street told me not to overpay the parking meter because I smiled at and said hello.

Would these things have happened if I was one of two, or in a group. I think not.

It's an interesting world we live in, and maybe it's maturity or the confidence instilled by my parents, but I'm comfortable with a table for one at a restaurant, or a single seat in the audience. It's better than staying home!

The warmth of summer...

As much as I love the brisk winds of November, there's a deep welcome warmth to the start of summer. Being able to sit (bug-free) outdoors and feel the sunshine warm up a piece of dark clothing, like it's embracing you in a heartfelt hug; turning your face to the sky so you can close your eyes and still see the sun happily dancing in bright orange and coral spots. It's a great time of year!

This is the time of year I enjoy trips to Stratford to see the staging of their Shakespearean offerings or musicals; a quick train ride into the city to see a play or a concert; or a drive north to listen to the birds and knit in the warm Saturday morning sunshine, as the breeze blows through the corner of the livingroom.

Again this year, I've succumbed to startitis with a myriad of knitting projects awaiting the final few rows (or so!), and those are now my "what I did on my summer holidays" projects. I have a few lace scarves/shawls and two normal striped ones to finish, two sweaters, and a couple of other things (like a wayward mitt, a kids' project.... fun things to distract me when plain knitting becomes cumbersome).

I'm sure there will be more substantial things to do this summer as well, but I'm really looking forward to the uninterrupted time to focus on a project! Happy Summer!