two hundred and three

I have mentioned B fondly refers to me as Cleese. I tend to be a tad of a dork and am often the butt of jokes in our family. In a nice way. Today I was grateful to play that role as it had the girls in absolute hysterics at lunch as Kate was updating Jem on my most recent attempt at joining in with B and Kate’s witty repartee. In my mind my comment was so funny I was already giggling, but somehow it didn’t sound the same outside of my mind. They could have at least been nice about it. Instead of rolling on the floor. Oh well. I am very grateful for a fun moment on Kate’s last day with us. I will be the butt of any joke if it helps to keep the mood light just before our baby leaves us for a month. I love how excited she is. I am grateful for her newfound fearlessness. Her readiness now to embrace a new adventure. To find the fun. Even if it is sometimes at my expense.

cleese

I had such a fabulous day yesterday. Playing assistant to director B. If he had suggested that before, never mind how last minute, I would have snorted at the idea. Me. Do that. Are you fucking mad? As in, do you know who I am, how important I am. I don’t even attend my own shoots anymore. Now, you want me to carry the tripod, scout locations, drive you around, traipse into the strangest areas for the most fabulous of shots. You have got to be kidding. But I said yes. Not because I’m so noble but because B said we’d stay at Limes. And he’d pay me. The day started with a frission of excitement the minute I woke up. It clearly was not the prospect of what the day held. Nor the wonderful pay check. Said with a wry note of sarcasm. Not that I am not grateful of course. I think it was the promise of freedom.  It was like I was given a free pass to have a day with no responsibility other than to do whatever B told me to. What a fabulous day. We laughed and stumbled, well I stumbled and we worked. Way into the night. I remember at one point under the Storey Bridge as I wrestled with the tripod for the umpteenth time as B changed his lens for the umpteenth time to do the perfect tracking shot for the umpteenth time, I mentioned how amazing it was. Not his shot. But being there. I didn’t have anywhere to go, anywhere to be, but there. Never ever, not one single, very well paid minute in my previous career or life, had I felt that before. There I always felt like I should be somewhere else, doing something more, hurrying up so I wouldn’t be late, for a meeting, for a deadline, for my kids. I was so important. Whatever it was, yesterday under the Storey Bridge I felt content. I didn’t need more. I was with B, my girls were being beautifully cared for by my fabulous friends. I was content. And that I had decided a while ago, is my definition of happiness. To be content. I am so grateful that I am finally realising it doesn’t take much. And that I already have all it takes. But apparently not what it takes to be a good film crew member. B just sent me this shot with this comment  “So I’m loving the shot of the hotel until I wonder what that is in the centre of the shot……” In case you’re wondering, it’s my bag. Well, he didn’t pay me enough anyway.