Lemon and Honey

Boil the kettle.                                                                                                                                   Place a spoon of honey into a mug.                                                                                                 Cut a lemon in half and squeeze out every drop of juice.                                                              (I recommend this for life too.)                                                                                                           Pour in the boiling water and stir briskly.                                                                                      Let it cool slightly before drinking.

This is lemon and honey. I can’t rave enough about its healing properties. I dose myself with this brew morning and evening whenever a cold appears on the horizon. The recipe was given to me by a colleague when I had bronchitis and I am very grateful for it.

I’ve since dosed entire casts of productions through flu infested runs in cold and draughty theatres. Winter is a hard time to be an actor. And it’s the worst season to produce theatre, except for every other season. It’s an acquired taste; art, remade each night, before your eyes, in a small black box.

So as well as killing a cold or flu, lemon and honey does wonders for morale, giving us the strength of character to face with equanimity both the empty seats of a cold Wednesday night and the full house on a lively Friday night.  I’ve found it’s particularly efficacious if someone makes it for you.  When a friend, lover, mother or stage manager, brings you a steaming mug of lemon and honey as you bravely prepare, despite being sick, to face the audience.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not usually an advocate of ‘soldiering on’. Absolutely not. I believe in rest, rest and more rest as the cure for almost anything. The power of sleep. The healing properties of a day in bed, especially if there’s nothing wrong with you. And the wonder of an afternoon nap.  But sometimes the show just must go on. And that’s when this potion works its restorative magic so you can keep squeezing every drop from the lemon.

About sagesomethymes

Daniela is a writer, theatre producer and civic educator. She has had short stories and poetry published in: 'Prayers of a Secular World', Inkerman & Blunt; 'Blue Crow Magazine', Blue Crow Press; 'Knitting and other stories', Margaret River Press and Radio National’s '360 documentaries'. Her debut play, 'Talc', was produced in 2010. Her short play, 'Sicilian Biscotti', was produced for the launch of “Women Power and Culture” at New Theatre in 2011 and shortlisted for the Lane Cove Literary Award in 2015. Her second full length play, 'Friday', was produced by SITCO at the Old Fitzroy Theatre in 2013. 'The Poor Kitchen' was produced in 2016 as part of the Old 505 Theatre’s Fresh Works Season and was published by the Australian Script Centre in 2017 (https://australianplays.org/script/ASC-1836). It was re-staged by Patina Productions at Limelight on Oxford in 2019. She co-wrote 'Shut Up And Drive' with Paul Gilchrist and it was produced at KXT in 2016. 'Seed Bomb' was produced at Old 505 Theatre as part of the FreshWorks Season in 2019 and has been published by the Australian Script Centre (https://australianplays.org/script/ASC-2166). She co-wrote 'Softly Surely' with Paul Gilchrist and it was produced at Flight Path Theatre in 2022. She is the co-founder of indie theatre company subtlenuance (www.subtlenuance.com) Her published short stories can be read via the Short Stories tab on this blog.
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