Juan for the Road last Saturday night...

Don't let that sunshine fool you. I've just come in from the garden. Absolutely perishing out there. I've been cleaning the patio. The first five minutes I cannot get over how much fun this is and why didn't I do this last year? Then ten minutes later, I remember how irksome it is and how patient you have to be.  So I started making patterns and before I knew it, I had started to write David Tennant in the muck on my patio. Well, it is his birthday, she announces with alarming brio, realising that nonchalance is now too late.
I realise I am sounding like a crazed fan. Alright, I looked up his age after we 'd been to see him on Saturday night in Patrick Marber's Don Juan in Soho.
Now in all fairness, David Tennant is my all-time favourite Doctor Who and as I have watched since William Hartnell days, I count myself as a bit of an expert. (I did like Matt Smith and I'm fond of Peter Capaldi, but sorry, David came first.) So way back in October, Dearest booked us tickets as we were convinced he would be brilliant on stage. And so he was. Absolutely electric. Supercharged sexual energy that combined loucheness with elegance. A marvellous double act with Adrian Scarborough as his hapless side-kick, Stan.  Simply a lovely piece of theatre.
I knew David Tennant would deliver.
So I was musing this afternoon on my patio. Just musing. Ok?

Happy Birthday, David Tennant from The Great British Bunion