I quite wore myself out today. Mostly in the garden. There was the usual mowing but also the construction of a raised bed by the steps onto the deck. The first of two, the raised bed is for some plants that Mirinda bought a while ago. They have sat in the shade, waiting for their ideal spot to become apparent. Beside the steps is, apparently, ideal.
I offered to build raised beds from old bits of wood, scattered about the place. I managed to complete one but ran out of screws. I have been promised a trip to Woody’s tomorrow in order to get more; enough to make the second bed.
For some reason, the blog didn’t like the above photograph. I was quite pleased with it and take a bit of umbrage that a piece of software had a problem with it. Humph!
Tomorrow, I will line the bed in cardboard then fill it with soil ahead of planting the plants – a stilby and a bleeding heart. I’m not really a garden person but I do love making things. I also love the idea of reusing stuff that is just lying about. Like old wood, old screws; this old man prefers reuse to new.
The main thing, of course, is that Mirinda was pleased with my labours and is looking forwards to the second one.
In between mowing sessions (I mow, then, when the battery is flat, I switch jobs while the battery recharges) I started writing my next Letter from Sweden. I also made rather impressive omelettes. At least I think they were impressive. I haven’t made omelettes for years but I guess the knack is still with me.
By the end of the day, I was ready for my reward: A trip to the Bio to watch the Met opera production of The Barber of Seville. And what a marvellous production it was.
There is no tragedy in this brilliant piece of theatre. It is pure farce, set to music. Rossini outdid himself. I thoroughly enjoyed it, as did the rest of the audience. Though, the entrance of Figaro reminded me a lot of Adolfo Pirelli in Sweeney Todd. Or vice versa, I suppose. A brief search indicates that it is so.
The cast – Aigul Akhmetshina (Rosina), Jack Swanson (Count Almaviva), Andrey Zhilikhovsky), Peter Kálmán (Dr Bartolo), Alexander Vinogradov (Don Basilio) and Wanda (as herself) were fantastic. They all looked like they were having such fun. Well, not Wanda. She just looked happy, getting an occasional carrot.
There was also the unnamed servant of Dr Bartolo. His comic work was brilliant. He didn’t sing but his presence on stage was both anticipated and delightful. He almost stole the show. Here he is trying to alert the cast to the unlikely appearance of a giant anvil which, ultimately, crushed the wagon beneath it.
It was another great night at the opera at the end of quite the constructive day.
