Last Friday, Cyril went to the Vet's to have the stitches taken out from the wound where he had had a cyst removed from his forehead. He also had his ears looked at. He's had a recurrence of a series of polyps in his ears which have had to be removed.
The inside of this ears are a mess but they will heal. He has a great plastic collar round his neck to stop his from scratching at them. Ross and I have to squirt a salving lotion into them twice a day. It's the sort of action that gets the adrenaline flowing freely in the mornings. Ross holds him between his legs and I apply the lotion. Cyril fights for all he is worth.
However, he is healing well but I shall be glad when all the Vet's visits are over and he's back to normal.
Last Saturday, brought another trip to ENO to see Madam Butterfly. Ross and I went with Sean and Matthew. We met at The Yard for a couple of drinks, dined at Pierre Victoire's in Dean Street and finished the evening off in The Lemon Tree behind the Coliseum. All in all, it was a fabby night out. The show was great and there was a moderate lump in my throat at the end.
There's also been major movement over comet, Hale-Bopp. I was certain I'd got a fix on it a few nights ago - a bit fuzzy in the London light haze but quite different from anything else in the night sky. Ross, however, poo-pooed the whole thing saying you couldn't possibly see it with the naked eye in London.
However, it appears I was right. Time was right. Position was right. So, I'm going for it. I've seen my first comet coz I missed out on Hayley's a few years back. Huzzah!
This week, I should have been in Portsmouth at a conference but it was called off because of lack of attendance. So, I'm in work where there are a lot of bad things brewing and I'm feeling tired and jaded. Looking around at work, I can see that everyone else is feeling the same. I have to say that, looking back, I have felt under a cloud - in fact, positively depressed, inward-looking and uncommunicative. It's probably another reason why I've been so recalcitrant in bashing out this Journal.
On Sean and Matthew's recommendation, Ross and I got to see the last performance of the RSC production of Troilus and Cressida. I've got a sort of notion to see all the Shakespearean canon eventually and had never seen this work before though I studied it long ago. It's a bracing night out. Lashings of leather and naked, nubile male flesh. I can see why Sean was entranced.