THAT'S A WRAP!

I replaced my rolly bag, the one with the separated lining. This one is holding together great.

We are done with the house in Maple Ridge and after a day of shooting in Langley, and a day in Richmond, the rest of the shoot will be in Vancouver.

The day in Richmond is at a church and we have just two scenes for the whole day, but one of them is 4 pages long with a lot of emotional dialogue for our two main actresses. There are a hundred and fifty black extras milling about outside on the huge lot when I arrive. I had no idea Vancouver had a hundred and fifty black people in it let alone that many who are extras. Most of the black population in Canada is in the east as that is where the underground railroad from the states ended up back in the slave days. This group are here to fill the church and be the 'congregation' for the day.

It's great to be filming in one location all day and to have only one move of the village - when we turn around and film the other side of all the dialogue. It takes a long time to get the place lit and rehearse a few times. Eventually we are ready to bring in the extras to fill the pews. As they file in, a few that are holding food or cups of coffee are told that they can't have food or drink inside and to deposit the offending items in the trash cans at the doors. Several do but I see one old guy who ignores the AD and continues in with his coffee and sandwich. He is spotted by a PA and told to go back and throw out his food. He does so reluctantly and I can see when he comes back inside that he isn't happy. He sits down on the assigned pew and as the camera roves over the audience to get focus marks, he is on the monitor in front of me. I watch as he digs in his pocket and surreptitiously puts something into his mouth and chews. I shake my head as I watch. He thinks he is being so sneaky and has no idea he is on camera. How can he think no one will see him on camera?? That IS why he his here, after all.

As we start to roll the cameras, 'A' camera is on the main actors; 'B' camera roves the congregation. They are supposed to be listening to the person speaking from the pulpit and reacting. As we pan over a back row of people, one young guy has his eyes down on his lap and I can see the glow of his iPhone or Nintendo DS reflected on his face. When the director yells 'cut' I tell him what I saw. He is ticked off and gets me to point out who it was. I do and he sends the AD over to tell the guy to do what he's here to do or go home. She confiscates a DS from him and he is sulking every time I see him on camera from then on. When the cameras roll again we don't get too far into it when a cell phone rings loudly, interrupting a long piece of emotional dialogue. Everyone freezes. The director yells 'cut' and then asks who's phone it is. The AD quickly locates the culprit, a large black woman sitting close to the front of the church, grinning sheepishly. The director is thoroughly pissed off and turns to me. "I want to send that person home. Should I send them home?" "You should do what ever you want." I reply. "You are the director." "Yes I am." he replies and then tells the AD to send the woman home. "That will serve as an example to the rest." he says to me. The AD gives the woman the bad news and she is gone. Everyone is told to make sure their cell phones are turned off and then the filming resumes. We have no more trouble from the extras until after lunch.

During a break in filming, I go out onto the floor and take a dozen or so photos of the congregation for continuity. We are about an hour away from breaking for lunch and I need to have pictures of where everyone is sitting so that they are sure to be in the same place when we return. After lunch the extras file back in and take their seats. As I scan the crowd and the pictures on my camera to make sure they match, I notice that a woman is missing. She was prominently featured behind the main actors a few pews back and across the aisle. If we shoot that way again, we will miss her. I go and inform the director that we are missing an extra and can't proceed until she is found if we want to shoot that direction. I then go and let the AD know. Apparently the AD knows and has PAs out looking for her. I have a sinking feeling that perhaps the woman got bored and maybe, now that she has had her free lunch, she has hi-tailed it home. Several anxious minutes tick by as we all wait. Suddenly the main doors open and the woman flounces in in her flowing skirt and big hat. She has no idea she was 'missing' and doesn't seem the least bit sheepish. She settles into her pew and I return to the monitors and we get on with our afternoon. The main actor, who has had no trouble with lines all day while we were shooting over her shoulder, starts to go blank on her lines now that the camera is on her. I have to stay alert to prompt her when she asks me to. Despite having to cut and restart several times over due to this, we end up wrapping an hour early and I am so grateful as it's a long drive home.

I am up at 5 again to be out of the door in time to be in Vancouver by 8. Today we are shooting on False Creek down where the water taxis leave for Granville Island, just across the water. We have a couple of scenes on shore and then one on the water taxi. There isn't room for me inside the small taxi they have reserved so I sit on shore and try to listen through my earphones so I can still time the scenes but they are soon out of range and all I can hear is static. So, unusual for me, I have nothing to do for almost two hours but visit with the rest of the crew. The sun has come out and so it's a pleasant couple of hours with a great view.

Once we are done with the water taxi, we all pack up for a move about half a mile away to Sunset Beach for a short scene. I hop into a transport van and hop out in the beach parking lot. I go drop my rolly bag off near the camera truck until I find out where we are setting up. Not everyone is here yet so it will be a few minutes. I hear someone call my name and when I turn around I see it's a woman I worked with a year or so ago. I walk over to her car and she tells me she just dropped off her boyfriend who is joining our crew for the rest of the shoot. We chat for a bit and when she leaves, I turn around just in time to see the lift on the camera truck get lowered onto my rolly bag. I yell for them to stop but it's too late. I watch, helpless, as it rips down the bag from top to bottom, opening up an ugly gash and tearing the side pocket almost right off. The guy operating the lift stops it before it crushes my camera strapped to the side of my bag. When I run over to investigate, I find that the camera body has a small dent in it. I take a few pictures and view them; it seems to be working just fine. But I am sick about the bag. The lining of this one was holding up just great.

As I roll it over to where I now see we will be filming, I see the Production Manager and show her what happened. She looks at it and says it can be glued or sewn back together. She suggests I take it to wardrobe to see what they can do but I have been sewing for 40 years and know that this is not repairable. I know it's because she doesn't want to pay for it, but I am going to have to replace it and file a Loss and Damage report anyway.

It starts to rain when we are filming the beach scene and so we get it in as few shots as possible and pack up to leave, three hours early. I get home in pretty good time and so I have time to run down to Michaels and buy another bag. For the third time, I transfer all of my stuff into the new bag.

We are shooting for two days in a record store on Main and 20th. It's a great location full of old vinyl and loads of CD's. The crew has a field day going through the inventory on our down time. I find 6 CD's and pay just $44 for them all. I am debating over one when it is recommended by both the store owner and the DP as fabulous so I buy it. It's buy an artist called Duffy and I haven't ever heard of her. I also get one of Jimmy Buffet's hits to remind me of Florida, and one of Bob Marley and another of Reggae to remind me of the BVI. A CD of Gregorian Chants and one of African Gospel compete my purchases. As I go to put them into my rolly bag [after paying for them, of course] I see that the lining has come away from this one in exactly the same place as the first one. I am super frustrated. I had the old one for three years and never had an issue until it came apart down the side from stuffing it so full. These new ones are crap. I won't have any time to replace this one until we wrap the show. I will have to make do with it as is until then.

I drive home listening to the Duffy CD and I LOVE it. What an amazing voice for such a young gal.

We spend the last two days shooting in the basement suite of a house not far from where my ex-husband grew up. I haven't been down here at Cambie and 60th for years and it makes me feel sad and nostalgic. I have a truck-load of good memories of times at my in-laws place and I miss those days a lot. But, there's not much time for reminiscing as we get going with our day. It's absolutely pissing down rain outside and everyone gets soaked as they run out to get equipment and set lights. I am thankful that the village is inside and staying in one place for the duration of our time here. It will only have to move on the very last scene of the shoot, tomorrow, which will be located in a house half a block away.

The second afternoon the gaffer, Blaine, heads down to the second location to see what he's up against for lighting. He walks into the house and is surprised to find that it is quite unkempt with toys strewn about all over the place. It doesn't seem as if it's dressed for our shoot. He looks about and suddenly realizes, this is not the house he saw on the tech scout... he is in the wrong house! He quickly leaves before anyone inside knows he's there and heads into the correct place, next door.

We finally finish our scenes in the basement suite and pack up to walk the short distance to the second house. Blaine has, thankfully, lit the correct house and so we are pretty much ready to go as soon as the cast have changed. This house is gorgeous. It was probably built in the 60's and has been remodeled while keeping the original woodwork and paneling. It has a very retro feel to it, but with some modern touches. Although it isn't my taste in decor, I love it - as does the rest of the crew. It looks like something out of a magazine.

We only have one scene to shoot here, and it's not a very long one so we are done in a couple of hours and the show is wrapped. It's always sad for me when we wrap a show. I have spent so much time with these people and some I have known for years. They feel like family and I don't know when I will see any of them again. Goodbye's and hugs are happening all around as the grips and electrics keep working around us to wrap out their gear. The hair and makeup gals are going downtown for a celebratory drink and invite me along and I accept.

Once my paperwork is done (including my last time sheet and the L & D report for my bag) and handed to the 3rd AD, I grab a transport van and drop everything into my rental car and then walk over to the trailers. The girls are just clearing their piles of gear out of the hair and makeup trailer and trying to decide where we will go. No one has any ideas so Honey Dawn and I head to my car and we drive downtown to the Sutton Hotel, the place where all the film people who are in town stay, to go to the lounge there. We call the other gals to let them know where to meet us as we head inside. Right off I spot a familiar hat across the room. It's the director from the show in the hat he wore all day today, and he's sitting with the Executive Producer, Damon from LA, who was on set every day. Damon is a charismatic and fun guy and so I am excited that we have run into them. We walk over to their table and they are surprised to see us. They invite us to join them and Damon offers to buy us a drink. We gladly accept and then spend a delightful hour or so chatting with them, and the other gals when they arrive, about the show and some of the fun things that happened.

One of the things that Damon loved was that Kim, the DP, pretended he had never worked with me before - when in fact we have worked together for six years. When Kim called me 'Momma' (as he always does) and Damon heard it for the first time, he was shocked and was waiting for me to react badly. When I didn't, Damon commented that we must be good friends and Kim replied that he'd never seen me before this show. Damon thus thought that Kim had got away pretty easy THAT time. When Kim called me it again, Damon thought for sure Kim was in for an earful. Again nothing, and Damon started to think that Kim was one of the luckiest guys he had ever met, insofar as getting away with cheeking women is concerned. As that first week wore on and Kim kept calling me Momma, as well as teasing me constantly about everything as he always does, Damon was more and more amazed at what he was getting away with. I finally told him, on about day eight, how long we actually had known each other. He laughed and said he knew something was going on because no guy was that lucky.

Pretty soon the director begs his leave to go finish packing for his trip home early in the morning, and about half an hour later Damon does the same. We spend about another twenty minutes chatting and then Honey-Dawn wants to go home to see her husband and baby. I have offered to drive her home to North Vancouver, and so we hug the other girls good-bye - one of whom I most likely won't see again as she lives in Toronto and was brought out here because she is skilled in styling black hair. It has been a great way to end our time together and as we drive off, I am already missing everyone.

HIVES ON BOWEN ISLAND

The bridge is really beautiful. I don't usually say that about man-made super structures but the large brass eagles that are attached to it somehow make it beautiful.

We are shooting inside the house this week and it seems that there is something in the living room that causes me to itch and become all stuffed up within twenty minutes of sitting down on the couch in front of the monitors they set up when the camera is shooting into the kitchen from there. I am not the only one who is feeling that effect. I wonder what it is. This is not the cleanest house and the sofas are very old and worn so it could be dust.

This show is very challenging for me as one of the actresses has trouble memorizing her lines and she has a LOT of lines. So it falls on me to feed them to her when she is stuck and calls out 'line'. It happens with such frequency that I hardly dare lift my eyes from the script which means that I can't watch the monitors as I need to for continuity. I finally tell the PM that it would be good to ask the stand-in to feed lines to free me up to perform my other tasks as right now my ability to do them is severely compromised. Apparently that won't be possible as the actress wants me to do it. It begins to stress me out severely and I lose sleep over it on the night before a day full of long scenes with lots of heavy dialogue.

The weather is amazing. It's the end of September and it feels like summer, except that there is a nip in the air when in the shade. I am always in the shade as the monitors have to be shielded from the glare of the sun. So I will be sitting in my chair, eyes closed enjoying the warmth of the sun while the lighting guys work, and then suddenly it will disappear and I open my eyes to see a huge black flag being set in place by a grip. As much as I miss the warmth as I shrug back into my puffy coat, I am grateful for the lack of glare in my eyes when the camera rolls.

I bought a new rolling bag on the weekend for all of my supplies and big binder. The one I have had for three years is coming apart at the seams from the stress of everything I have to stuff in inside. Two days into using it there are long black threads hanging from inside and when I investigate, I see that the lining has separated at the seam and the little clear bag attached is hanging. Then, later in the day, the handle comes apart. It is exactly the same as the one I had for three years. This one is obviously a lemon and I will have to return it next weekend.

Sunday, I have arranged with my daughter and her hubby to pick them up and go to Bowen Island for the day. I arrive at their place at ten o'clock and we get in the lineup at Horseshoe Bay for the eleven o'clock ferry. When it pulls in, it isn't the one I remember taking the last time I crossed, six years ago. This is a much bigger ferry. They have upgraded the fleet, I guess.

It takes 20 minutes to cross over to the island and we get out of the car and stand at the front rail. The wind is warm enough to stand there the whole crossing. It's a breathtaking view and Rob, who is seeing it for the first time, keeps exclaiming how beautiful it is. When we arrive, we get back in our car and drive onto the island. I want to stop and get a map but Ashleigh wants to be adventurous and just wing it so we just start driving. The main road is the one that ends at the ferry and there are a few shops and cafes in quaint buildings on the left-hand side. We drive past them and take a right turn at the stop sign. Right off we see a sign for a garage sale so pull off the road onto a side street. We laugh as we see a small boy of about 7 wearing a huge box that is almost as tall as he is that has the words Garage Sale written on both sides in felt pen. I guess this is the place. We browse over the goods and I find two books. One is Aztec, the book I read in Florida. I buy it and then loan it to Ashleigh straight away, telling her she will love it. There is a great dresser for $50 and it looks a lot like the one I have that Ashleigh and Rob are using at the moment only it has an attached mirror that swivels. With a coat of white paint and some crystal knobs, it would look fantastic. I might not be getting the one I loaned to them back, or if I do, they will need a replacement and this would be perfect. But there is no way it will fit in my car, so we reluctantly leave it behind. I miss my Tucson!!

Ashleigh and Rob haven't had their morning coffee so we decide to drive back to the little main road and I find a coffee shop and park outside while they run in to order their drinks. Rob asks what I would like to drink. I tell him I have tea in my thermos cup from home so I am all good. While they are gone I hear the sound of a Woodpecker and look around to see where it's coming from. There's a large phone pole in an empty lot beside the car and as I look over at it, the Woodpecker comes around from the backside of it. I grab my camera and manage to get a shot of it before it makes its way back out of view.

We spend a lazy few hours finding a couple of nice beaches and exploring them. One is down a lot of steps but, once we are there, is very private and wild. There are huge logs all over the beach and a lot of purple sea stars just below the surface of the water, nestled on the rocks. This would be a great place to snorkel and we talk about coming back and doing that next summer. One has a rocky point on the right that extends out way beyond the beach and we clamber over the rocks to the very end. There's a wall of pink granite on one side that has a chunk jutting out at the bottom. It makes a perfect chair and I sit on it as I declare as much. Ashleigh laughs and takes a picture of me sitting in it and then has her photo taken sitting in it.

We are getting hungry so I drive back into the little main area and park the car. We walk to a pub that I remember eating at with the crew of a movie I shot over here at the start of my career in film. We find a table overlooking the green area that leads down to the water. We order drinks and an appetizer of prawns in a lemon cream sauce. Rob and I order the halibut and chips and Ashleigh orders a seared tuna burger. All of the food arrives at the same time, which isn't ideal. So we dig into the appetizer before the rest of the food gets cold. There are five prawns and three of us so I tell them I just want one. As Ashleigh is eating hers she asks me if I find them kind of spicy. I don't at all. We are about 5 minutes into our main courses when I look up at Ashleigh and she has put her tuna burger down and isn't eating. I figure she is just taking it slow. The next time I look at her, not a minute later, she is very flushed in her cheeks and down her throat. "Are you feeling ok?" I ask her and she shakes her head no. "I feel nauseated." she says. "You are breaking out in hives." I reply as her face and neck grow redder by the second. I get up and go to the hostess area and pour her a glass of ice water. When I get back to the table she looks even worse. I get her to move into my seat in the shade and I sit in her spot. "My gums are swelling and my throat is itchy." she says. She is having an allergic reaction to something she ate. I have had this happen twice to me and so recognize the symptoms. I go find a waitress and ask if there is a walk-in clinic open today. She tells me that there isn't. I explain the situation and ask her to call 911. She says she will, straight away. I go back to the table and now Ashleigh's heart is racing; I can see it the pulse in the vein in her neck. She complains that her throat is starting to constrict. She is terrified but internalizing her fear. We decide to walk into the breezeway leading from the street to the patio to wait for the ambulance to arrive. I go out onto the street to flag them down. Soon we hear the siren and I wave them over as they head down the small hill to where we are.

Two guys, one older and one younger, follow me to Ashleigh and they start asking questions as they unpack their kit. No, she has no known allergies to food; yes, she is allergic to penicillin; yes, she is taking prescription drugs; no, this hasn't happened before except to the penicillin.... etc. etc. They take her pulse and blood pressure. Her pulse is 96 and her blood pressure is low. They give her two children's chewable Benadryl. People walking by are stopping and gawking so they ask if she would like to sit in the ambulance and she says yes, so we move to the road. She gets inside with the older attendant while Rob and I and the younger guy stand outside the doors at the back and watch her with concern. At that point, the waitress walks up to me and apologetically hands me the bill for our meal and tells me they have taken Ashleigh's off. I am shocked as Rob and I didn't get to eat half of our food before all this happened but I am far to preoccupied to make the point that it all should be comped, and so hand over $80. She leaves and I turn back to the situation at hand. I suggest that Rob go up to the pharmacy half a block away and get some more Benedryl for Ashleigh as the attendant suggested that we get some. The young fellow is explaining that we can have Ashleigh taken by ambulance boat back to the mainland and to Lions Gate Hospital if we like. Ashleigh says she is starting to feel better and doesn't want to go to the hospital. I can see that the flush in her face and neck is starting to subside. About forty minutes after they arrive, the guys start to complete the paperwork for the incident, which they won't submit as they are on strike, and then pack up to leave. They tell us that, should Ashleigh start to feel worse again, not to hesitate to call them back. Rob arrives just as they leave with the Benedryl, water, and a protein bar for Ashleigh. We decide to go back onto the pub patio and have a drink to take it easy for a bit and decide if we want to head back on the ferry. We sit down and the waitress comes over and asks if Ashleigh is ok. We tell her that she's doing much better and order something to drink. As we sit there and sip on beer and Strongbow, Ashleigh starts to feel the effects of the second dose of Benedryl she just took. She's exhausted. We decide to finish up our drinks and then get in the lineup for the ferry back. It's 5 o'clock, a somewhat short end to our day together. I make a comment about it being the second time I have tried to have a day out with them and she has been ill. She apologizes and I quickly say that isn't why I said it... it's not anything she can help. It's just a strange coincidence and if it happens a third time, I am going to have to stop going out with them for the day. We laugh at that and she apologizes again and I tell her to stop it.

When we get on the ferry, we don't get out this time to stand at the rail. She is far too wiped out to get out of the car. And we had planned to drive up Cypress Mountain on the way back to see the improvements for the 2010 Olympics, but she just wants to get home so that will have to wait for another day.

I am back home in Langley by 6:30. I drive to the store to pick up a couple of groceries and then go back to Debbie's and watch The Amazing Race. I am in bed by 10:30. It's another early call tomorrow.

I give Ashleigh a call on the drive to Maple Ridge Monday morning to see how she is. She says that when she got home, she lay down on the couch and slept while Rob made some dinner. She ate a bit of it and then went straight to bed as she was wiped out. She feels much better today. Her throat and ears are still a bit scratchy and sore. She plans to go to the doctor and get tested to see what it was that she was allergic to but we figure it's the prawns. When she asked me if they were spicy, she said that as soon as she chewed them her mouth got tingly. She thought it was some sort of spice. But Rob and I did not have that sensation so it must have been those that triggered the reaction. She says she had prawns not a week before and had no reaction at all. But that is how it works sometimes... you are allergic but the antigens haven't built up enough for a reaction until you've been exposed several times. I don't think she will be eating prawns ever again.

A GARDEN IN MAPLE RIDGE

Monday morning, bright and early. Have to be on the new show at 7 am. I haven't had to be anywhere at 7 am for so long, I am hoping I can function at that time like I used to. I get up on time and seem to be awake. I have decided to curl my hair. I tried that out last week with a curling iron and, other than the fact that it didn't stay curly all day, I really liked it. So yesterday I bought some curl defining spray and little zipper packet of rag rollers. Well, they aren't made of strips of rag like I used to do my girls hair with when they were little, but they work much the same way only instead of tying the ends together once the hair is rolled up, these have wires inside and you just bend the ends over the hair and it stays in. Pretty nifty.

I take the curlers out and the curl defining spray has set my hair into cement hard curls. I can't get a brush through them. My hair is so hard that it feels like if I scrunch it it will just break off. And that is pretty much what happens when I try to comb it out. By the time I am finished the extremely painful procedure, I have a head full of curls alright, but the sink is full of bits of my hair that has broken off. That spray is going back to the store.

I have a Toyota Corolla to drive for this show. The car rental place was out of compact cars so I got this one for the same rate. I am happy about it until I get behind the wheel. I have long legs so always have to put the seat back as far as it can go. And whenever I get into a car for the first time after someone else has driven it, I can barely squeeze my legs under the steering wheel. This time is no exception. I grab for the bar under the seat, pull up, and push back. The seat doesn't move. I try again. No result. It's as far back as it can go. My knees are hitting the steering wheel. I check that and it's up as far as it can go. I can't drive this. I am about to get out and tell them when I think to put the seat back in more of a reclining position. I push it back two clicks and that helps. But honestly, the tiny compact I drove on the island didn't have this problem. There is just no room in this seat. It's a bad design, that's for sure.

One thing I do like about this car is it has an auxilary outlet for my iPod. I plug it in, select David Gray, and set off in the dark. It's 6 am. I head over to the new Golden Ears Bridge. It's going to cost me the better part of $10 every day to cross this bridge for the next eight working days but I am excited that I don't have to leave the house an hour earlier to sit and wait in line for the ferry that used to be the only way to get across the river at this point. I am a bit worried about getting off the bridge at the right place in the dark as I haven't crossed it yet and with it being dark out, I won't be able to see any land marks. The bridge itself is gorgeous, even at night. I read that there are huge brass sculptures of eagles flying attached to the bridge here and there. I can't see them in the dark and it will be dark when I drive home as well. But as we progress through this first week, call time will get later each day so I will get to see them by Wednesday. Maybe even tomorrow.

I wasn't sure how the toll would work. In Florida you have to stop and pay unless you have a pass. Here you can get a transponder for the car that will give you a cheaper rate so I figure that there must be a stop with a human in a booth involved to justify the extra cost of not using the transponder. But there isn't a toll booth. I see a bank of lights and camera's high overhead at the far end of the bridge as I drive under it. It takes a photo of my license plate. So what is the extra cost for? There's no saving in manpower. Transponder or photo, it seems to me it would all be the same system for billing.

I needn't have worried about getting off the bridge at the right place, it is well marked. I am still not sure where it will bring me out in relation to where I have to go, but it turns out that it's right at the intersection I need so I just need to keep driving straight ahead. When I get to crew park, it has taken me 20 minutes to get from home to set. This is fantastic. Tomorrow I won't leave so early. This means I can shave 45 minutes to an hour off of my trips to Maple Ridge from now on. More sleep is good. I usually have to scramble to finish up my paperwork when I get home in order to get 6 hours. I am still not thrilled about the $10 a day but I have to admit, it's worth it.

We are shooting at a little house sitting on about an acre. This story is about a garden. The garden is almost another character in the script. As I walk through the gates into the front yard, the greens department has done a wonderful job. It's so beautiful. There is a raised bed surrounded by river rock just to the left of the gate that is a riot of color. The plantings are gorgeous. I find out later that all the plants are sunk into the dirt still in their pots so that they can be lifted out and moved around if needed. Also, part way into the story, the garden will turn from a summer one to a fall one. So then most of these flowers will be lifted out and replaced with mums, cabbage plants, grasses and other fall blooming plants.

The same has been done to the front of the house on both sides of the path, and again to the far right under the cedar hedge. It's a glorious garden and I wish it was mine. I miss gardening. I used to love it and had a big English country garden in my back yard at one time. But since getting into the film business, I have had no time for it. I walk around and take lots of photos. We might need them later for continuity. I also take some beauty shots of the roses close up. I can't resist.

There are a few people I know working on this show. Blaine, the gaffer and his wife, Jen; the set dec guy, Rob; one of the hair girls, Honey Dawn; the sound guy, Shawn; and his boom operator, Blair who I just did the show on the island with. I have met the PM before but haven't worked with her. I know most of the camera crew - Craig, or Tilley as he is called, I love to work with, and the DP, Kim, is someone whom I consider a friend. So I am pretty happy to be here and see people I haven't seen for a year and some two years.