Another Name Day
1 March

It was a lonely path towards my name day his year.

It being half term over on the East Coast, Ross was taking a break with his parents. Easter is about as late as it can get this year and so half term, Mardi Gras, Ash Wednesday and Lent are put back as well. This is a big house to live in on your own and I missed my little bunny. The bed felt cold and empty without him.

Tuesday night I went to see a very superior horror film at the Plaza - The Ring. Some genuinely chilling moments as well as the obligatory "Boo!" moments too. I'll give it three stars for good.

I'd been planning to do other stuff like go to a chamber music concert on the Wednesday night but Ross left me a little thing to remember him by in the form of his cold. Consequently, I spent the next couple of nights coming home, eating, reading Terry Pratchett's Night Watch (it's another well written Diskworld novel) and going to bed early.

Anyhow, Ross arrived back today and it's good to have him here.

We went to the ballet in the evening. Coppélia. I would swear that I have never seen this ballet before but, looking at some old programmes, it would appear that on Monday 12 February 1979 I attended a performance at the Liverpool Empire given by what was then known as Sadler's Wells Royal Ballet.

I can understand why I have erased all memory of this evening in the theatre. The great classical choreographer August Bournonville said after an early performance "It was... entertaining without making any further intellectual demands. Generations of audiences have not dissembled from this view. I felt that it could have been re-titled to advantage as Naff Prancing in Ruretania.

The First Act was stuffed with melodies that cram the Classic FM airwaves but there after tunefulness was thin on the ground. The Second Act did, as promised, contain some comedic moments. And the whole was entertaining. It's just that I wouldn't rush back. Our Franz was Jan-Erik Wikström and he was as average as he was as Romeo last year. Much better was the Swanilda of Sarah McIlroy. Gary Avis's Dr Coppelius was all ham and little pathos. I can't summon up more than two stars even though the whole evening was perfectly pleasant.

The costume designer had his little joke in the First Act by giving the boys of the chorus pale fawn tights to wear. From the rear they could all have been naked. Women and gay men in the audience were highly diverted.