Imagine you are sitting at your computer at home, one evening. Despite the fact that it’s minus 27 outside, it’s snowing – again. As if we need more snow …

Enough already.

Christmas parties and presents are a distant memory and spring may never arrive if what’s happening on the other side of your window right now is anything at all to go by.

To add to the grey of the day, it’s tax time so you are checking the Revenue Canada website to see if there are any new deductions you are eligible for this year. You never know …

And then that little yellow envelope suddenly appears on the bottom-right-hand corner of your screen.

You’ve got mail.

With extraordinary speed, you click on your e-mail screen, which is running in the background, just in case something more exciting than slogging through a pile of last year’s receipts comes your way.

Opening your new message, you read the following news from the Guild Hall:

“Hi All,

We are looking for volunteers to do paint and rigging on the Cabaret set on Saturday from 1 to 6 p.m. It’s faux brick time and involves that mysterious substance – ‘Pig Poo’. Linda will provide snacks and beer.”

Pig Poo and Beer. Now there is an irresistible combination if ever there was one. Take a break, enjoy a brewski and find out exactly what this “mysterious substance” is all about. Hit “Reply”:

“Hi, Linda. I can be there around 2:30. See you then.”

With no real idea of what to expect, I showed up at the Guild Hall as planned. It’s a cozy old building located in Porter Creek, a couple of blocks behind Super A and across the street from Jack Hulland School.

The doors were unlocked. The sound of people laughing greeted my entrance.

“Hi there. Come on in! I’m Linda.”

Kicking off my boots and hanging my coat on the rack, I followed Linda into the theatre. A handful of people were already busy with a variety of tasks and the room buzzed with activity.

Brushes slapped and rollers whirred, spreading paint up, down and across the walls. A hammer tapped, a hair dryer hummed. A radio murmured underneath it all.

“Hmm, let’s see what’s next. Maybe you could give one of the painters a break. I’ll find you a tray. And here’s a can of black paint.”

Moving to demonstrate as she spoke, Linda poured paint into the tray.

“This should be about right. I’ll be doing the trim; you can fill in the walls.”

Never having wielded a paint roller before, I spent a minute messing around with the tray and the long handle, soaking the roller just enough so that, hopefully, it wouldn’t drip too much.

And that was how it all began.

The hive of activity that is the Guild Hall perfectly illustrates the expression “Many hands make light work.”

By the time I was ready to head home, invigorated enough to attack the chores I had left undone, not only had I painted a couple of walls, but I had also tinkered with a few props, helped move some furniture around – and mucked around a little with some “faux brick”.

Yes, I am now a member of the “Inner Circle of Those Who Understand Pig Poo”. Membership, however, comes only under condition of secrecy.

For the reader, the mysterious substance must, for now, remain a mystery.

The way to unravel the secret is to become an active member of this intriguing community theatre. The next time you come across a Call for Volunteers from the Guild Hall, hit “Reply”. Even better, give them a call today at 633-3550 or e-mail guildhall@whtvcable.com.

Theatre season runs from fall to spring.