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 |   Norma's Wanderings around a small section of Montana |
So today I got a call from my buddy in Musselshell, a tiny burg about 20 miles from here. Home of the Musselshell Players, my favorite community theater group. Can you be a part of us this fall, Norma? What part do you have for me? Well, you can be a hypochondriac or a taxidermist who killed her husband, stuffed him and keeps him in a closet. Hmm, I chose the hypochondriac. I mean, let’s face it. I’ve done nothing but whine about my health for months now. I’m a member of the O.U.C.H. club. Our Unique Clumsiness Hurts. So I have all the props - a sling, a back brace, a knee brace, and now a splint for my hand. I also called a friend for a favor. I can hitch a ride with her, since she is also in the cast and lives local. I’ll pay her for gas to take me to and from. I’ll also be on deer and elk patrol. I don't really want to take our new ride down that deer suicide highway. And right now I cannot drive a stick, with the shifting and all. I am immediately hopping from one play with 126 lines to another with 85 lines. Piece of cake. Should be fun. Can’t wait to see what happens. |
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