British playwrights never get tired of telling us about the eccentrities and problems of the nobility in the big houses. Alan Bennett began this recent play, People, with Lady Stackepoole and her companion, Iris, in a freezing old stately house, trying to maintain a wee bit of dignity while fending off the National Trust and then listening to an auctioneer who has a conglomerate on the side wishing to buy the house and move it to a warmer part of England. Now and then Lady Stackepoole and Iris burst into song, we don't quite know why since the lady was once a fashion model but supposedly could not act and never mentions singing. The plot thickens, there is a sister who is now a deaconess in the Anglican church, a film maker scouting a location -- for a porno film -- and we're off and running into greater flights of wit and madness. I laughed, I enjoyed the performances, I left thinking -- so what? I was entertained for a couple of hours and that is that.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!