A big morning.
A run of The Author with a small audience. A tough thing to do for the cast - to share work at this raw, unrehearsed stage but they do brilliantly and we learn loads. About beginnings and endings. Narrative and experience. Light and dark.
Andy, my co-director and I have plenty to talk about this weekend before we begin to work in detail on the play next week.
And then it was my son's first day at secondary school. A big day for him.
After the most wonderful start to his education at Educare Small School where there are just 40 pupils in total, he's now walking into a bigger, wider world with new challenges, new people and new experiences.
He's a thinker. So the last few months have been building up to this day. He's had anxiety about it, excitement and a little trepidation too.
So today has been a long time coming. And today, today finally arrived.
Bill's an insightful young man. And on the way in, as we walk up to the gate, he has a little insight: "All this fuss about school uniform, like it's something really precious... And actually it's just a shirt, a jumper, trousers and socks isn't it?"
"Yes" I said.
"It's one of those things that seems really big and important. And then you realise that actually it's something... quite ordinary."
Then he points to a spot in the park. "That's where I vomited on my way to the exam to get in here" he says.
"How are you feeling now?" I ask.
"Fine." he says.
And through the gates he goes.
His small frame, dwarfed by his new bag. And his head held high.
And he doesn't look back.
That's my boy.