From the Sky to Your Hands

Aggie, Arth and I stayed at home today, while the walkers did 11 miles in glorious sunshine. I was expecting the plumber who did not appear. Then I discovered that my message to him yesterday, confirming the time, had not been sent. (Mobile coverage is poor in this house, but I should have checked.) He will come tomorrow. (It's boiler trouble again, so don't ask!)

I was due to meet Julie and her friend, Libby, at Café Vivo at 6pm and I went earlier so that I could be in town for the golden hour. I'd heard about this new sculpture outside the Theatre Royal. It is a WWI soldier and every few minutes the poppies are blown about inside the obelisk that contains him and he is showered by them. The sculpture was commissioned by the Royal British Legion and will remain in place until after Remembrance Sunday.

The lights all around made the image exposure difficult, but I hope you can see the poppies as they gently fall.

My extra is the first window in the legendary Fenwicks' Christmas windows. Paddinton Bear is the subject throughout. There were more adults that children there at 5pm.

I was in the city to see a wonderful play called From the Sky to Your Hands.  It's the story of Joana who came to Newcastle with her baby son, Osvaldo, from Angola in 2003 when she was 16 years old. In 2008 Joana took part in From Home To Newcastle, a Live Theatre verbatim piece about asylum seekers and refugees. Almost ten years later this new play catches up with Joana – how have things changed for her and her family, including Osvaldo, now a typical Geordie teenager?

Joanna herself was the lead actor. The other parts were taken by young people from the Youth Theatre at The Live. They were well directed and the play was a triumph in so many ways. Good luck to Joanna in the future; she has already overcome a lot in her life.