These past couple of months have found me a bit subsumed in more transitional events in our homelife, which'll certainly tie into a later post. But, more relevant in the moment, the last few days have been taken up with something nearest to my heart: Miss C, in whose honor I added this window display this past week:
As you may remember, Miss C embarked on her own journey this fall, choosing a life in the wilds of boarding school. As she hoped, the experience has been an extraordinary one for her - a great fit for the kind of person that she is and wants to become. And though I miss her terribly from day to day, I'm contented to know that she is living and creating her dream.
Part of this creation has been fed by landing a role in the school's winter production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. As a freshman, she knew it was a long shot, so she was tickled to get to be one of the Mechanicals, Robin Starveling (best known for the Moonshine bit), who perform the hillarious "play within the play" (plus, she and a few of her fellow Rustics got to be fairies attending Titania in their spare time, too).
Some of you have known Miss C over the years, and you've seen what an expressive kid she's been from the very beginning:
Now I've limited myself to sharing more "vintage" shots of C's expressiveness, thinking that most anything more contemporary'd mortify her teenage self to near death; but suffice it to say that this trait did not end at the elementary school threshold. In fact, Rehoboth Elementary is where she found a gifted and dedicated teacher, Ms. Gray, who worked with some equally gifted and dedicated volunteers each year to put on a major production that engaged a huge portion of the school's third, fourth, and fifth graders. Miss C got to be a mouse in Cinderella, Lisle in The Sound of Music, and a formidable Miss Hannigan in Annie:
But when we all decided that the awesome, independent, and cozy Jefferson School was best for her middle school years, she had to shelve her more formal theatrics for a bit.
Lucky for her, her chosen high school has a splendid theater department, led by Harvey Doster, one of those teachers whose endurance for teenage theatrics is legendary at the institution (those of you who shared time with Mac with me at AHS can relate). Miss C was in actor's heaven. as evidenced by the photos that her admissions officer sent along from opening night:
But none of this - neither the pictures nor the past - prepared me for the scene that blew them all, and me, away: the performance of "Pyramus and Thisbe" at the end of the play. Oh my word, Miss C had only a few lines, but her physical, comedic acting was a stellar - a really, really funny contribution to an already really, really funny scene - a truly entertaining ensemble performance by all of the girls. Miss C was fully committed in a way that took me back to her never-met grandmother's theatrics. Those of you who knew Mac knew Mom, too - so you can extrapolate that Miss C comes by all of this honestly:
I can't wait to see where she takes it all - and where it all takes her. In the meantime, I'm just a happy to get to be in the audience. Vive la Shakespeare! - Jenny
P.S. There couldn't be any more fitting serenade for these ladies of my life than Ms. Merman: