No more stepping into my little black dress and white apron as Annette.

No more gobbling loads of snake lollies to lubricate the throat.

No more staying out until all hours with an excellent excuse. 

No more silently sneaking around on tippy toes back stage.

No more nervously waiting in the wings, standing still in the dark listening for my cue to make my entry.  

Oh dear, no more singing and prancing about on stage to a full house. 

Months of rehearsals and nine amazing shows later, I have rediscovered the addiction that only an applauding audience can encourage. 

It was so much fun to wear my hair in a completely different style and be made up to pretend I was someone else. 

Unsurprisingly, it turns out that the performing arts crowd are pretty entertaining people to hang around with too.

And I won’t see them much in my ordinary life on the school run and at the supermarket. 

I’ll miss the laughs in the green room.

I’ll miss all the lovely food people shared.

I’ll miss those beautiful and now familiar faces. 

I still cannot believe that I have been lucky enough to be on stage in the musical Annie with my youngest daughter playing one of orphans, Tessie.  

Ten year-old Tiani has made a whole group of new friends and performed with a live orchestra. 

She has stayed up late more nights in a row than her big sisters have ever been allowed to, and skipped school when she needed the rest, as the past two weeks really have been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 

We are both going to miss bounding in and out of the make-up and hair-dressing chairs. 

We are going to miss physical and vocal warm-ups and mic checks and belting out Tomorrow to a standing ovation. 

Tiani and I are going to miss being made to feel special by our fellow cast and crew, by the audience and by the wider community who shared our excitement. 

Thank you to everyone who has been a part of our fabulous ride. 

Yolande Grosser