claytoncast

So that was 2012. I have to say it's been a rather good year. Not as much work as one might have hoped, but many things that have made me feel better. Not the least of which was a lovely Christmas away in a hotel in rural Nottinghamshire. Two absolutely fantastic bedrooms for Richard and myself, and mum. Great meals, fantastic hotel staff who couldn't do enough for us from the moment we arrived and a trip to the pantomime at the Theatre Royal Lincoln on Boxing Day afternoon to round things off. So many of us have our first experience of theatre at a pantomime. I know mine was -"Humpty Dumpty" at the Sheffield Lyceum in 1967 with the Cub Scouts. Such a shame that so many Christmas offerings are incredibly shoddy affairs. In my system for handing out points onto Equity cards like speeding points for driving licences, there were quite a few endorsements that should have been given out during this Boxing Day matinee of "Dick Whittington". Some people a

 And so it's nearly here.  Our relationship has just survived another year of putting the Christmas tree up together. Apportioning tasks and letting the other person stick to them as the key. Richard does the lights, the wiring, and all the technical things, and I unpack the boxes of baubles and tinsel etc and start strewing them over the tree. Whereas in Acting I know that the principal that works most successfully is 'less is more', it's not a maxim that I apply to decorating our Christmas tree. Rich would prefer a slightly sparser look I think, whereas I'm all in favour of throwing the whole box  at the tree and seeing what lands!  The joy about about unpacking the box each Christmas is that there are particular decorations in there that we  have collected from our travels all over the world. Among others we have a gondola in a glass ball from Venice, a treetop decoration from Macy's in New York, a cartoon penguin from Reykjavik, and in a surprise

 So my Christmas shopping has started in traditional style. It's not unknown that on my first day of Christmas retail I set off out into the December melee clutching my list determined to come home with as many parcels as I can. It's not unknown that in the first batch of parcels there will be gifts for myself. Much as though I enjoy buying presents for others, there is no delight that ranks alongside treating oneself. This year I've done it in style. It's five years since my Damascene conversion to the world of Apple. Prior to early 2007, I would scoff at friends who as far as I was concerned were lagging behind in the  technological revolution clinging to their Apple Macs. Yes, they were colourful. Yes, they looked good. But the PC was where it was all that. Or so I thought! In early 2007 I joined the show "Peep Show". At the same time as I formed a tentative working relationship with the lovely David Mitchell and Robert Webb, I couldn'

I think it must be age because round about this time of November for the last few years I have begun to have deep empathy with the principles of hibernation. If you told me that I had to go to sleep this evening and wake up sometime in mid-February I don't think I'd be too disappointed. It is not that this time of the year has been particularly empty work wise-in fact the past month or so I've been phenomenally busy.  It's easing off a little now, but there are still a couple of days in the diary. Quite a few social events coming up as well, the agents party, various drinks dos at  the Actors Centre and some home entertaining. We've also just come back from a weekend in Yorkshire for mum's 91st birthday. Cake, flowers, local village Christmas fayre, fish and chip restaurant lunch, and a new microwave for ourselves out of a branch of Comet that was closing down all packed into a 36 hour visit to Rotherham. That is of course "national headline makin

One of the most boring things I think it's possible to witness is actors talking about acting. How they did it. How painful it was. How emotionally dredging. It drives me nuts. Just get on and do it. In the rehearsal room I've always been of the same mind. Get up there and do something. Then have a discussion about whether it works or not, but just keep trying things out. I know acting is supposed to be an art and  we are artists, but to me acting has always been a trade. A job. That doesn't mean to say it can't be done with the highest level of craftsmanship, but it involves technique. It is an artifice that is used to show truth. "To hold a mirror up to nature" as the great bard himself put it. I think the best jobs have a mystique about them. I have absolutely no comprehension  as to how our plumber makes our boiler work, and this actually this makes me appreciate him even more. The fact that he  went to Eton, is blonde and has got arm muscles as

So having updated my DragonDictate to the latest version, I'm anticipating that narrating my blog on this rather damp Sunday lunchtime will be easier than it has been of late. The percentage of accurate recognition by the software is rather brilliant, and the fact that I can sit here with a headset on just talking to my computer and have my words appear on the screen, is a delight for my type talentless fingers. This has been a week off. No work, but something that I was looking forward to with a chance to potter around at home and catch up with a few people.I think my body knew that as well because within 48 hours of my week of leisure starting, I had a runny nose. Within another 24 hours I had a full-blown blocked up  ache inducing  cold. In fact it's my somewhat nasal diction that seems to be the biggest  obstacle of total understanding between my new dictation software and myself.  On these days off I'm rather missing having my book to work on. It went off

So after unplugging my headphones and microphone, and then deciding that none of my dictation programs were working properly, I have purchased the new version of DragonDictate. For quite a while now I've preferred to be able to talk to my computer, rather than struggle with typing on it. I needed it so it's a good investment. And then I looked down and found out that my microphone and headphones were unplugged. The basic  element in trying to make  the programmes work! I would regard myself as technologically savvy. I can usually solve almost all problems that occur on my computer, especially since moving over to Mac five or six years ago.  I'm an Apple junkie. The iPhone 5 is on my Christmas list and I am toying with buying myself a new desktop as mine is now 5 years old and would probably benefit from replacing.  particularly having seen them on the website, like most Apple products, it is a thing of beauty and one that I can't wait to have on my desk. (

I'm  sure I have enthused on my blog before about my love of Autumn. How it stems from my childhood days in the back bedroom above the shop in Yorkshire, where the curtains were a little thin and the dark nights meant that no light would flood through them as I tried to settle down to sleep. Next weekend the clocks go back and Autumn and then Winter will be upon us. I'm not quite sure where this year has gone — a sign of growing older I am told  as each year becomes a smaller fraction of the life that existed before it -  and yet here we are in the last quarter of 2012 hurtling towards whatever festivities you choose to celebrate in mid-December! The last week has felt particularly autumnal. Richard has been in Australia, working hard, but at least having the fringe benefits of walking about Melbourne and Sydney in 27° sunshine. He spent Saturday on a luxury boat pottering around Sydney Harbour, as we endured rainfall and wind. I've had a busy week. The play,

So at this moment in time, when I just grabbed a few minutes to catch up on my blog, Richard is in the air about to land in Abu Dhabi. He's on his way to Australia and will be back next Sunday afternoon about 3:30 PM. At 3 PM that afternoon I go off to Paris for three days to do some training with a client over there.  I arrived back from Spain on Wednesday morning and bumped into him in his office after a gap of five days when I was in AKA doing some training work. Ships that pass in the night is the phrase, and it would seem to be true. Yet when we do manage to end up at home together in our bed it is the most wonderful place in the world. We bought it after our civil partnership six years ago with John Lewis vouchers kindly given to us by our friends and it sits in the first bedroom that I have had that I would call a haven.  I don't sleep well. At least I can't get off to sleep. Once I'm asleep, I'm away and have little problem

And so, as predicted, things have got much busier. Two trips to Amsterdam in the last 8 days, lots of activity at the Actors Centre, and bookings on the corporate front now stretching through until mid-November. All rather good………… for the bank manager. It's been a lean summer. Amidst all this activity I'm still trying to pack in regular visits up to see Mum. This week I was able to tie in a meeting in Sheffield with a visit to see her for the day on Tuesday. I arrived a little earlier than I normally do on my daily trips and she was still having lunch. I stuck my head round the dining room door and momentarily my heart stopped. All I could see were little old ladies sitting having lunch. I couldn't pick out Mum.  When she first arrived at Rotherwood  on a dark cold unforgiving February Friday afternoon, even though she wasn't at her best she looked different from all the existing residents. I remember walking away from home that afternoon thinking  “Have I do

I always think it's still rather wonderful that despite it being nearly forty years since I was last in education, the beginning of September always has that back-to-school feel about it. I've been spending the weekend on my own catching up on paperwork at my desk. Rich has been off on a stag weekend  down in the country and will no doubt return happy, and content but tired later this afternoon. Having just completed my accounts, something that I've done on a Sunday morning since way back in the 1970s when I first left drama school, I was looking at my diary for the forthcoming month. Hey presto, it's busier than it has been since June! The new term is about to start. Several trips abroad, albeit one of them being a holiday in the 3rd week of September, and lots of little jobs all over the place until late in October. This gives me that contented sort of feel that I tend to associate with the smoky leaf strewn days of autumn. Although I've grown to lov

So at long last, after nearly 5 months, my mother's house is sold. It's been a long uphill struggle. After an estate agent that overvalued the property, and advised us that doing a “offers above" price would work best, we've actually managed to sell it. Why anybody would offer more than the price listed on an estate agents card is beyond me. Particularly for a small  2 up 2 down terrace property just outside Rotherham! Anyway, I did manage to get a discount on the estate agents fees by challenging her that I thought the property had been put on the market at the wrong price. Actually the selling price  was rather  immaterial. All the proceeds over and above £24,000 will go to the government  to pay for my mother's care. The slow drip feed of my inheritance into the coffers of Rotherham Metropolitan Borough Council. We accepted an offer from somebody £6000 below the asking price on condition that they were a cash buyer and would move quickly. That was

 So in the week when we thought we all thought we might have  life space to fill post-Olympics, we've actually been rather busy. After the hectic day last Saturday visiting the Olympic park with Richards parents, I awoke hoarse but happy. The four hours we had spent in the Olympic Stadium had been absolutely fantastic. Watching Mo Farah win the 5000 m was one of those experiences that will stay with me for a lifetime. I was already welling up as they announced the name of the runners and  I turned to Richard's Mum and said  “I have absolutely no idea what I'll be like if he wins". He did win in considerable style and amidst a noise so deafening and filling, the like of which I've never heard. Having hugged Rich I turned to the man next to me, a perfect stranger, and he said “Brilliant wasn't it?" “Yes" I replied and then as an afterthought “and I hate sport" He laughed, and to me that's what the Olympics brought to us al

So the first week of the Olympics has been and gone, but what a week of excitement it's been. I don't watch sport. I don't do sport. I may join in and watch the final few sets of an exciting Wimbledon's men's final. I have been known to leave the country during a boring cricket match, and I quite often have to resort to locking myself in the office at home on a Sunday when the Grand Prix is on the television. This week however, the Olympics have seriously got in the way of my life. An afternoon habit has developed. Having done a good morning's work, the temptation to turn on the television around 1.30pm while having some lunch at home is almost irresistible and catch up with what we've been doing in the morning. By then it's almost time to go over to the velodrome. Unbelievably exciting, and then at the end of the week just as one thought one might get a respite on the Saturday, my whole evenings viewing of “Take Me Out" “Dr Who" and

So they're here at last. The games have descended upon us. After a seven year wait we're now in the midst of the biggest sporting event to be staged on these shores for over half a century.   I have to confess that from the outset to not being a fanatical Olympic supporter. We have an amazing ability in this country to build things up, only to be let down. Our national football team are a perfect example. Every time a major tournament comes along, the papers scream out with their headlines of "England to victory" while any rational person looking on, even though they might metaphorically be standing so far away from the touchline that they can barely see the field, knows that the English football team is not the greatest in the world. As a result the fall and the disappointment are so much greater. And yet all Friday, my heart was aflutter in anticipation of what we would see on Friday evening at the Olympic stadium. Like many people I have some friends wh

It is vital in any partnership that in order to keep things fresh you do new things together. So it was that in our 16th year together Mr Howle and I ventured forth yesterday to take part in our first car boot sale. We had quite a lot of stuff from when we emptied my Mum's house back in April. All the best things went to auction on Saturday and I'm anxious to be able to ring the auction house tomorrow and find out how they did. We didn't go along in best "Bargain Hunt "fashion as the Olympic torch was making its stately progress through Greenwich on Saturday morning and no doubt grinding everything to a halt in the process. This week we booked ourselves a premium pitch at the renowned Battersea boot which takes place every Sunday evidently. We loaded the car with several boxes of tea services, glass vases, and some nice objets d'art from the 30s and 50s, together with what one might call just general household rubbish that we have accumulated dur

I'm always surprised that after standing up in front of people for over 40 years since my early appearances in school plays, I still get immeasurably nervous. Last Friday I had been asked to deliver a presentation on effective communication to the leadership team at a.k.a. Those keen witted amongst you will have spotted that that is the company that my partner Richard works for, and has done so for the last 10 years. Any presentation delivered to the leadership team was also going to be delivered to him. It's an irony that has not escaped me that I spend a great deal of my time working with people on presentation technique, how to cope with nerves, and how to deliver effective presentations. Indeed I have made a great deal of money out of it over the last 10 to 15 years. I know my stuff. I know that the things I say work. I know how effective the sessions can be. Yet suddenly called upon to deliver one to a group of highly creative people which would include the perso

So it just goes to show if you ask you get. I think the phrase I'm looking for is "it's the squeaky wheel gets the grease" The English tendency to moan or  suffer in silence is not one that has ever been one of the my most apparent traits.   Perhaps at times I err on the other side, complaining just a little too much. I'm probably the first to admit that as I've grown into my 50s I've been hit with a dawning realisation that Victor Meldrew was a real person. Take for example a call to my bank this week. Lloyds TSB. In a week when the banks are making the news changing the interest rates, mis-selling and generally conning the public out of every penny they possibly can at every possible opportunity, my bank have eventually listened to me. Just before we went on holiday at the beginning of June I received a letter from my "personal business manager" a lady called Anne Osborne who resides somewhere in the