Scott has gone.
Val is still recovering from Italian Flu and trying to buy a house in London.
Alex is delayed because his visa didn't show up on time in Costa Rica.
I am struck down with Yorkshire Flu.
Val and I struggle for four days with texts that I think she can do something with.
She makes an interesting solo sucking in and swallowing words she is trying to speak. Big questions around whose works we are speaking and how to deal with text that carry my conceptual ideas which may not fit into or suit another performers' mouth.
These words are not my words.
My flu gets worse and for the first time in a long time we take Friday off and Val gets back to London a day early, ready to move house.
I spend three days in bed (sponsored by Kleenex tissues).
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