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No country for old women: Old Ladies - at Finborough Theatre

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The day after seeing The Old Ladies at the Finborough Theatre , I was describing the play to someone in great detail: about three old ladies who lived in a rickety house in southern England in 1935. Based on Hugh Walpole’s novel and adapted by Rodney Ackland, it is the sort of story with enough believability, humour and mild thriller to stick in your mind. Perhaps it is the lure of this dark, forboding tale of a life without money, to be alone and to be old, that makes you feel attracted to this poverty porn. But then again, given the state of the world, the cost of living, an ageing population, or just the fact that it’s a dog-eat-dog world, it might as well be an every little old lady-for-herself, too. It’s a well-acted and staged piece that moves at a brisk pace, so there isn’t much time to think about it too much. And in the intimate (or should that be claustrophobic?) space of the Finborough, there’s nowhere to avert your eyes. Even if you wanted to.  The scene is a grim Cathe...
I have not often walked down this street before...
* But there is less trash walking down the other side of the street where I live.
* I don't bother looking into the dark alleyways

Job on offer I can start next week. But there are a few others (that pay more £££) in the pipeline but they look like they are going to take a bit looooooonger to happen. A job in the hand I suppose is worth many more that could be out there...

Touristy things...
* After yesterday mornings interview I hit the internet cafe and then went to the National Portrait Gallery. There were quite a few things to fascinate and amuse there. The civil war section was interesting and so was the Victorian era and early 20th Century paintings. Incidentally on this day in 1658 the Lord Protector of England died trying to work out what sort of republic and system of government England should have. Silly git. By the time one got to the Andy Warhold silk screen print of Joan Collins, you couldn't help think that the last half of the 20th Century seemed to miss something that the previous five hundred years of portraiture offered.
* After spending a couple of hours at the NPG, I took the tube to the British Museum. I really wasn't in the mood for seeing room after room full of stuff the Empire had plundered from Egypt and Greece, although the Rosetta Stone was pretty interesting. I focussed mainly on the European history which was quite fascinating. The Roman occupation and the Viking invasions were most interesting. There was also a special exhibit on London in 1753 that also caught my interest. All told, four hours had elapsed before I emerged out of the museum. I believe my brain was full by then.

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