Freya’s First (And Last?) Audition

About three years ago we signed up for a year’s membership to an acting agency. It was all just for a bit of fun; we had no expectations of anything coming from it. And, it didn’t. A year went by and we got nothing, except for my audition as Mouse Man

A couple of days ago we received a phone call from a production company. They wanted Freya to go to an audition for an advert. Even though we had not paid any further money to the agency, our pictures of a young Freya remained on their site. The production company had obviously browsed their way to Freya, and thought she looked interesting for the part. They asked us to come along today for a tryout.

Freya was quite quiet through the audition – she shared it with another girl whom she had befriended whilst waiting her turn – though she was not entirely voiceless. If she was nervous then she hardly showed it. She thought it was ‘boring’, but she’d like to do it again.

Now we have paid for a two month membership. Not just for Freya, but for the whole family and any potentially interesting possession. It appears one can also hire out anything that may be useful for films/TV/adverts.

The Return Of The Pudding

Like many parents, we worry about the amount and kind of food that our offspring consume. Freya has been not so eager of late to eat food, and our liberal approach of asking her just to taste everything before she declines is starting to get to me a bit, since it is not reaping the rewards I wish it to. In fairness, the recently introduced “three more mouthfuls” tactic has worked, and I’m happy for that small blessing.

Today we made Sneaky Dad’s Pudding, a mixture of strawberries, banana, avocado, peanut butter, flax oil, carob powder, soya milk and orange juice. Now, I know it does not sound like the kind of thing that would be tasty, or be appreciated by children, but it is actually very nice. Everything gets whizzed up in a food processor, giving it the consistency of half-melted ice-cream, and has lots of minerals that any child would benefit from.

Both Freya and Zelda tucked in, and Freya even had three portions of it. She wasn’t so enthusiastic when she was little, but now she claims she wants it every day. I’m not sure just how long it’ll take before they get bored of it, though for the first time in a while she is eating very well.

Being Amongst Vegans

The family went to Vegomässan 2009 today, a vegetarian/vegan fair that is now in its second year. While the location reminded me of an underground parking, it was reasonably cosy and there was a fair bit to do/see/eat. In fact, we had difficulties deciding exactly what to eat there, with soooo many delicious-looking buns, cakes, burgers, hot-dogs and other comestibles to consume. In the end we made our choices, and they were good.

Vegan food has, not surprisingly, come on a long way since my last foray into animal rights fairs. Vegan grub is at a far more acceptable level, and I would have been happy to take a no-vegan there, assured that there was not a lentil in sight (not that lentils are a bad foodstuff).

Freya loved the fair. There was a small, but (judging by Freya’s comments after we came home) pleasing kids’ corner where she stayed a while. She enjoyed walking around the crowded locale, and she liked the food. She even asked us, a few hours after we got back, if it was still open. I reckon that counts as a success.

A great day out for us all, even though we did not get to hear the lectures that we wanted to. And we even got to buy a Christmas ‘ham’ that apparently tastes very nice. We shall see.

Wise Freya

The family were in the car today, listening, as usual, to Freya’s music. A song from the popular children’s program, Lazy Town, came on. It was sung by one of the characters who is known for being a greedy little tyke, and he was singing, quite fittingly, that everything was his. Freya piped up midway through the song that not everything was his. The forest wasn’t, for example. She added that the forest was the property of the Earth. In fact, according to our wonderful daughter, everything was owned by the Earth.

The Camera Never Lies

I am not – and Jo will readily testify this – particularly photogenic. As a baby and young boy I had a certain flair, being able to produce a naturally happy face, but in the years of adulthood I am unable to smile for the camera. At best I look contemplative, though mostly I come across as grumpy or bored.

It’s not for the lack of trying that I fail miserably (or succeed to be miserable). Inside my head I believe I’m pulling a cheeky smile; the muscles around my mouth feel like they are tugging excessively. But the end result is nothing more than an expression of mild disdain.

I recently tried forced laughter in one picture, and a positively jaw-breaking open-mouthed smile in another. I looked like a mixture of Elmer Fudd and a Pakistani.

Should my daughters’ memories of me be based on our photos, I fear I may ruin their lives, which is why I write this, in defence.

Oh, Mona Lisa, we are united in a curse.