Friday. I got my day off at last. But then it's not all about me.

The poor actors were flagging a little - with the exception of Charmaine who seemed to be glugging cough medicine with a vengeance and seemed little the worse the wear for it. On-stage warm up at 7 which had by now - old hands that we were - comfortably settled into a few rounds of zoom/screech courtesy of Ms Hansman, a Pearl and Dean chorus courtesy of Ronnie and the trusty "many men" song thing.

And tonight was the night of the adjudication. We - I shouldn't try and chare the blame as it was largely me - had decided to enter the play into the SCDA Full Length Play Festival. Which is apparently always a done deal and goes to an old faithful. Usually Tryst or Leitheatre. However of course I was not doing this to win. I thought it would simply be a useful exercise in getting objective feedback on the way the play had been put together. Not to slight the invalable experience of those involved in the group who had commented to date but I meanly felt more predisposed to take a slagging from someone I didn't know.

Excitingly the adjudicator and his entourage - for they always travel in packs, one of the great mysteries of the SCDA adjudication process - had passed by us in the backstage corridor as I sp0ke final words of a feeble geeing up to the actors before the play began. Apparently they wanted to see back-stage conditions as this would also count towards the verdict. The mind boggles.

And then at the alloted hour, we began. Audience of about 50 from my approximate head count. I do love the start of the play. I have no idea what anyone else thinks to it but I love the way that the singers walk onto the stage, spotlight comes up on them, Sarah grins and then the music starts. Stripped by Depeche Mode. And my peasants start shambling up the aisles to take up their positions on the stage. Wendy emerges from the wings onto the ramp and crosses herself (just out of church you see) - one of my favourite bits that the audience just won't get. And everyone shambles into postion, music fades and it begins.

I think it went pretty hiccup-less tonight from memory. A few tiny glitches but nothing so radical that the audience would notice. The adjudicator sat and scribbled with his special adjudicator's light. I laughed as noisily as I could (not very, being a retiring sort of person) to spur the audience on. But actually they were a much more cheerful crowd than the very dour bunch we'd had on Wednesday. And that always makes it a bit more entertaining for the actors.

I watched carefully at the interval to see what the adjudicator thought to the Adzak entrance (which I had 'bravely' decided to keep as is to get his feedback). And his face didn't seem to contort with outrage at the violation of theatrical tradition. But then I guess it's his job to keep his thoughts to himself until the thing is done. They all trotted off for coffee and the thing resumed 20 minutes later.

So afterwards. We reconvene in the auditiorium to hear the adjudicator's words of wisdom. Although as ever it takes me bloody ages to herd the last of them out of the dressing rooms. Some people have no sense of urgency. Or sense of anything. And I sat to recive my fate.

And I thought he was remarkably positive. Of course everyone will have heard the bits they wanted to hear from his comments. But I thought he was very fair in his observations and made some very constructive suggestions. Other bits I violently disagreed with - but he had stage managed the show once before and directed it twice so I guess it was more or less inevitable that he would have some fixed ideas about how things should be done.

Small moments of triumph that were nothing to do with me: he said Ross and Sarah as the singers were excellent - although didn't (I don't think) comment on how we'd used them. Obviously I should have asked but of course I was rather struck dumb by it all. He thought Gordon and Karen as Simon and Grusha were great. And he thought Brian was marvellous. He said it looked as if he'd enjoyed playing the part. For which I felt irrationally pleased.

Tiny petty things: he'sd liked the "moment of tenderness" between Simon and Grusha before he went off to war. And yes! Thank you very much. Take a moment for a small gesture of triumph. As getting them to kiss was an uphill struggle at this particular juncture in the play but I stuck to my guns (for once?) and it worked. According to him anyway. He made some comment about how people could get burdened done with the rhethoric of the play and forget that it was normal people speaking to each other. Just what I had tried to say to them all. But perhaps not eloquently enough. And of course there were various of these other observations about things which I felt I'd tried to talk to them about - but they just hadn't listened. But clearly the actors probably heard "director's fault / director's fault / director's fault" over and over as he said this. But what does it matter.

He didn't actually out and out say that he liked what we'd done with the play - which my mother, god bless her, was outraged about. But speaking to me afterwards, he said he "really admired what I'd done with the play". Which was more than enough for me.

As I was showing them up the stairs, one of his entourage said I "looked like the kind of person who is always happy". A lovely compliment. And a great tribute to my acting skills I felt.

Then in the pub afterwards, Joe Culley snapped his rib.