Last night we staged Act II, Scenes 1-4. I’m in Scene 4, at the very end, and wasn’t called until 6:30, but I rode down to Columbia with Drew and then walked around the town, playing tourist for a bit. Took some photos, as collaged below:
During rehearsal, there was some time when the Von Trapp children, sans Luisa, were all backstage, with little or no supervision. This is always worrisome, as there are powertools and kids are inquisitive / fearless. While I was waiting to go on, I noticed they were getting a little loud.
I step back there, “Hey, here’s a fun idea: how quiet can you be when you’re backstage?”
A three-foot blonde tornado named Grace says, “Hey! I’m as loud as I want: I’m a Sumo Wrestler, HUUUUUHHHHRRRRRRR!!!”
I ask, “Wow, is that part of your character preparation? Are you going to do that in the show?”
“Noooooo,” she laughs.
“I think you should. Opening night, you should just surprise everybody with a Sumo pas de deux.”
“Will you tell us about the Orange Juice again?” Grace says, her glasses magnifying her already large blue eyes.
“The what?”
“The Orange Juice — you come in and tell Uncle Max about the Orange Juice …”
Brigitta pipes up, “She means the Au Jus.”
“Oh, you’re talking about the Anschluss?” I say.
“Yeah!” now a bunch of the Von Trapp whelplings gather around me as Grace says, “What is that?”
“It means connection or annexation,” I say. “It’s what happened when Germany basically took over Austria. It’s the reason people start hanging Nazi flags everywhere, and it’s eventually why you guys have to leave the country.”
Chorus of informed, “Ooohhhhhh.”
Grace says, “Say it again!”
“Anschluss.”
“Orange juice, orange juice!”
“Shhh,” says Brigitta.
“Who do you play in the show?” I ask Grace.
“Marta.”
“I’m sorry, did you say you play Farta?”
“No! I play Marta! Marta, with an ‘M’!” she says, and Gretl and Brigitta gather closer.
“What’s your last name in the show?” I ask.
“Von Trapp, don’t you listen?”
“Of course I do — so … your name is Farta Von Crapp?”
Laughter, shocked eyes and whispers of, “He said a bad word …”
Grace says, “Oh yeah? Well, your new nickname is Crappy! Crappy Jenkins!”
Best. New. Nickname. Ever.
e. w. hightower 
I have to say that the three foot blonde tornado was described very well, to a tee, in fact. Your writing captures her relentlessness, her spirited personality, and zest for life. I will always remember the way she informed me of the happenings of this day, “Mommy, I met a man named Edward, he’s a Nazi but he’s nice, he does Kermit the Frog impressions and he calls me “Farta Von Crap”, every word spoken with glee of her newly found friend!