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Musicals, Festivals, Carrots

Three festivals and two time zones in one week, plus the premier of Pete the Sheep. Baa. Excuse me. Am still a bit dazed. It was wonderful. Magic. Monkey Baa’s musical brought back every memory of the time and place Pete the Sheep came from, because there was a sheep, though his name was Dunmore, not Pete, and a half-serious, half-desperate plan to give sheep to preschools in the drought. We’d become a troupe of wandering shearers giving the most gorgeous haircuts in Australia. I’d have cried, just a little, at Pete the Sheep, especially as Ratso’s harmonica mourned into the darkness, except I was laughing too much. Before the curtain went up, the sophisticated kid next to me had declared he

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© Jackie French