I GOT A CALL FROM THE SMALL ACTOR'S caretakers in Richmond, Virginia. "We'll be coming there for the weekend, since we can't come at Christmas." And eight hours later, in the dark of night, they arrived! The next day my yard man kicked into high gear, rushed out to buy a hunk of meat* (a favorite activity of his), and donned an apron. Then the Little Actor and his caretakers arrived. We sat down to Christmas dinner exactly a week early. As may be suspected, I skipped over many details, Reader Dear--as I am now leaping over a few more, and going straight into filming and production. Trains, Planes, and Fire Engines:
Starring both of my tiny actors in my pictures was severely hampered by the fact that the younger was ill with a cold and cough. A security guard of the elder was determined the two would not touch. (The elder, my Little Actor, slightly more experienced than the Small Actor, has an important out-of-country engagement next week. He'll be starring in pictures by other producers, which you, Dear Viewer, are not likely to see [If he wins any awards for acting in these foreign flicks, I'll surely inform you!]). Hence, my scripts had to be altered to accommodate this restriction. It's why in this next picture my actors play their own true selves in a story of two tiny tots forbidden to express spontaneous feelings of affection for one another. The elder makes adaptations, which the younger finds highly amusing. (Ending unscripted, Viewer Dear. Simply left to chance).
Likewise, end of today's post is left to chance.
Chances are-- this is it!
(Chances are, there will be more tomorrow).
*Does your little eye spy, Viewer Dear, a small clue?
Guess the entree and I'll tell you if it's true.