Well, things are already going well under a Labour government. Saturday night, the UK won the Eurovision Song Contest and, earlier in the day, Hughie Green died. Now that may seem harsh to those who only know the man from his nauseating television persona. But he was also deeply into far right politics with the McWhirter brothers and contributed handsomely to the Far Right's coffers. So, farewell, adieu, good riddance.
Saturday was a fun day. After the inevitable domestics, there was a bit of tense to-ing and fro-ing between Bell Cablemedia and BT which resulted in us now having a complete cable service including telephone. The Bell Cablemedia lads were two handy hunks if ever there were - ask for Tech Crew 313 if you want to see what I mean - very tasty but not, I should think, available for anything other than sample viewing.
Later, Ross and I
wizzed into town. Quick troll round the shops produced nothing apart
from my copy of Opera magazine until we hit Clone Zone
on Compton Street. There we spent a few idle minutes thumbing through
the toys before deciding on a pair of studded cockrings. Different
designs but similar purpose you understand.
Then it was almost next door to Balans to meet up with Sean. Good food, pleasant chat. Matthew was working an odd shift at The Guardian so was not available to join us. Then Ross home and Sean and I off to see Ariadne on Naxos at ENO.
Sean was not sure he was going to enjoy this opus but emerged wreathed in smiles at the end. I still think that the Prologue is a bit of a bore but on Saturday night it went as well as could be expected and was even quite funny. Donald Sinden in the Major Domo's role nearly upset the balance but did show what could be made of the part. Susan Graham as the composer was terribly over-parted. But the stage business was crisp and well martialled. Graham Vick's production seems capable of retaining its essence whilst being revived to suit a multitude of presentations.
The opera itself was bathed in glorious music. I should make mention of Richard Hickox, conductor, who drew luscious sounds from the orchestra and made the score make internal sense, pointing up the sound patterns that link Prologue and Opera. Christine Brewer was large voiced and long breathed as Ariadne and Jon Fredric West (another American import) coped heroically with the role of Bacchus even is he had to resort to a hectoring tone at times (Bacchus, Hector, am I getting my classical allusions muddled?). Special mention of Catherine Savory who was a tasty dish indeed with a rich, secure mezzo as the nymph, Dryad, though, as Sean pointed out, her stature was solidly not nymphish.
Sunday began with an unexpected early morning call. 8.30am and the front door bell goes. It is a BT engineer come to fix a fault on our line. Whilst being extremely pissed off at being woken unnecessarily, I take great delight in informing him that we are no longer BT customers. Seems like they still can't get their act together with their internal communications.
So, I was all up and ready for an assault on curtains and nets (oh, what a joy
it is to have crisp, clean nets
and then Tesco's.
Mid-afternoon pause for a bit of the old how's your father, nudge, nudge
and Yes! those cockrings do make a difference.
I'll have to check
if that's another point off my purity score.
Onwards into work, where I sort a few things out, bump into a colleague unexpectedly, and Ross scans some images for his own Web Pages which will be a catalogue of his current work. More news of this site when it emerges.
After The Simpsons and Homer's tussle with homophobia, Ross spent most of the evening Webbing on the computer whilst I watched The X-Files on TV. This episode is more than a season ahead of terrestrial TV's current position but really shows how tired the formula is getting. Probably needs to be wound up and put out of its misery soonest.
Monday is my Web day - the fruits of which you are now reading. It's also a day of a nagging sore throat and headache. Maybe I've been incubating a cold all week. Hey ho. Anyway, I've also been out in the garden hacking and cutting and, I have to say, it's looking a good deal better.
Now all we need is the promised rain the freshen the ground and we'll be all set for a colourful summer. We've had our first orange mesembryanthemum in the front garden and the mimulus are already a riot of yellow and mauve in the back. The passion flowers, grown from seed last year, are galloping away and the Ceanothus (or Californian Lilac) in the front garden is about to burst into a profusion of tight blue blooms. The recently planted hostas seem to have bedded in well and the lavender and honeysuckle from a couple of years back are coming on a treat.
The only down side on all this garden bliss is Anna, the dog next door. More or less pure Collie, she is very boisterous in a very friendly way. Unfortunately, she barks loudly and enthusiastically whenever I'm in the garden and tries to throw herself over the wire mesh fence. In fact, I'm quite distressed about the possibility of her hurting herself.
Last year, I think I coped by not going out into the garden as often or running inside whenever the dog came out, which is why - I guess - I've had to do so much work this year. This year I've said sod it to myself. I'm afraid that if Michael and Sylvia can't keep her under control they'll have to think about replacing her. Really, they shouldn't be keeping a Collie in an inner city.