Eggcited or Eggsasperated?

 

When I was a child, there was the annual sports day. I rather enjoyed climbing in a sack and bouncing down the school field, tomato-faced, clad in navy knickers and determined to win. In the 1970s big cotton pants were de rigueur for girls. Anybody remember those monstrosities?

In more recent decades, I enjoyed dashing down a school field with an egg and spoon in the mum's race at my sons’ sports days. I always remember being both extremely excited, and nervous - waiting for the starting pistol to pop.

(Actually I used to jump out of my skin if I'm honest. Or scream; my squeal-of-fear petrifying those around me...)

I’m not sure if I was more nervous about the sound of the gun/ or waiting to race. I do recall that I ran a tad like Charlie Chaplin with my feet at ten to two and my tongue hanging out like Scooby Do after a Scooby snack…

I am feeling pretty nervous - eggsasperated - about the ‘opening up’ on 19 July. My first live class begins next month - in a studio at #ExeterPhoenix. The first live feminist clowning and comedy workshop for a long, long while... check out the event here!

Once again - I feel a tad nervous, but equally joyful. 

This time it’s not a competition - there are no prizes or popping pistols or eggs and spoons - but perhaps it could just be the feeling of starting off again? I'm not eggsactly sure ;).

It’s not a race for ‘freedom’ more a tentative step on to the school field - let’s just say the three legged race is probably off the cards along with pass the orange from chin to chin and custard pies.


Look out for all the upcoming workshops and courses here, and have a smashing rush to the end of the week.

Ready, steady... GO... with eggstreme caution! (apologies :0)

As usual, thanks to all…

From Maggie and the Comedy Matters team :)