The Trial of the Resistibles

The spirit of Kafka was certainly among us last night: byzantine processes few of us understood, frustration, complexity, bizarriness. With a couple of expected absences worsened by an attack of the lurgy, the worky and the didn't-show-uppy, we were seriously depleted in number. Count yourself lucky.

Unlike Kafka, though, we came out smelling of roses and still alive. The scene pulled itself together and even resembled a good bit of drama by the end. It was just a shame I forgot my camera, so I can't treat you all to some fine Dockdaisy dancing. Mighty fine.

And so we come to another French holiday; not a jolly to Paris this time, but a lay up from rehearsals as the 'Allo 'Allo bunch do their stuff. I'd plug it, but they sold out long ago. So, good luck to MikeL and JohnR this week, we'll be in the crowd for the Saturday matinee.

To everyone else it's au revoir; on 11th December to be precise. See you there.