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The theatre I work at is currently closed because it’s summer and nobody wants to sit in a stuffy theatre all evening when they could be out having a nice barbecue. The sound and lighting technician is away and to keep me out of trouble I’ve been given the job of making sure both stages are sanded down and repainted.

This involves removing all 72 flip up seats from the tiny downstairs theatre & hauling them up the narrow stairs into the bar. As the seats are normal theatre flip up seats with stainless steel frames this job takes a considerable amount of time and foul language to accomplish.

Then we realised we needed the fridges in the bar for an outside catering booking. So all the chairs needed to go into the basement, which due to the strange geography of the place is higher than the theatre (and universally known as “the chicken shed” but that’s another story).

Then two days later we needed to use the basement for something else, so all the chairs had to be moved back to the bar.

Of course this meant that the people who were supposed to be sanding and painting were in fact hauling chairs back and forth and swearing, so after a week the painting still isn’t finished and the theatre is an empty shell with ladders across the stage.

We’ve got a week until the next show…

Posts are a Industrial revolution thumbbit thin on the ground at the moment because I’m working on my current storytelling project, “The (nearly) complete history of the Industrial Revolution”. I’ve decided which stories will be included, and which stories won’t: some are funny, some quite incredible (The incident with the engineer and the alligator comes to mind) and some are simply tragic reminders that the changes were not welcomed by everyone.

All these stories now have to be packaged together, told, retold, and timed so I don’t go over the promised 90 minutes. I won’t have time to explain the changes to the banking system or the repeal of the Calico Act, which I suspect will be a relief to all. Audiences come to hear about jealousy, love, exploding steam engines and people being fed to alligators, not long rambling essays and dates.

Unfortunately people who write history books don’t seem to think this way, so I’ve been digging through acres of paper. I think the current ratio is about fifteen chapters about banking for one alligator…

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