All’s well that ends well

My mom surprised me today with a trip to Stratford, ON, which was a very pleasant on-her-toes decision.

We were suposed to be on our way to St. Jacob’s for a little mom/daughter time, but due to the almost-life-ending-down pour on the 401, we pulled over around Woodstock. My mom makes the call, and off to Stratford and hopefully good rush seats.

I was just thinking that I hadn’t been to Stratford as a ‘grown-up’, and I was pleased to see Will’s ‘All’s Well that Ends Well’. I’ll admit to you though that I feel asleep in the first 25 minutes. This play got off to a SLOW start.

I’ve been thinking as of late about poetry, or challenging prose, and realizing that my education entirely skipped this rich literary well. There were a total of 2 poetry units, but they were lame, and non of the beauty and potential for understanding the human condition was really explored. Everyone endured them until we could get to creative writing or something.

I’m sad about this, and of course, have not the poetic ability to express that with more flare!