Births, Marriages and Deaths
5 May

Well the register is filling out sort of thick and fast at present.

We've certainly had the birth of the year with Mary.

Deaths - well there's been Kubrick, Menhuin, Alf Ramsey, Anthony Newly, Godfrey Evans, Jill Dando - shot, Oliver Read relaxing in a bar, Johnny Morris, Dirk Bogarde. And possibly my Aunt Ellen. All of whom will not see the Millennium.

There have been bombs too. In Brixton (where I was concerned for Colin - I knew he was not hurt but I felt that he may be involved in the aftermath), Brick Lane (where I was concerned for Ross who should have been there with classmate Amy looking for materials for a sculpture but wasn't) and then Soho (where I felt uneasy about James as he could so easily have been involved as he works and socialises in the area).

It appears that the bomber was a youngish man in his early 20s. He may have had connections with a far Right group. But even so, I find it so hard to comprehend how anyone can think that the next, correct thing to do in their lives is to bomb people so as to maim and kill them. Just as I can't understand how two young men in Denver can believe that the next, correct thing to do in their lives is to shoot a number of their classmates, a teacher and then themselves. Where do the values lie?

How can we say that Brixton, Brick Lane and Soho will only unite the people against the perpetrators? And then feel that we can bomb the Serbs into submission. I despair.

Couple of weekends ago brought the trip to Swindon to see the marriage of my colleague, John, to his (now) wife Dorothy. She's only recently over cancer so it was a great celebration. This weekend, I've decided not to go to Merseyside to visit my parents and see my Aunt Ellen. I've just been feeling unwell, slightly fluey, etc. So the garden and misery it was.

I did attend the Bridge Centre Open Day in Chingford and had a go at reflexology and Indian head massage. Dunno if they'll have any effect. Robert had his aura photographed and it turned out to be a bright and even red. Felt right though I dunno what it means.

Chats on the phone to Phil who needs to about birds in the hand because it sounds as though he's never had an experience in a bush. *Smiles* And chats with Lowestoft Colin who now seems to have gone the feline route to approaching middle age. Viz...

Today we learnt
  • it is quite easy to get onto the kitchen table
  • it is much easier to like cat food with cod than chicken
  • if you do really BIG pooh it smells, even in litter
  • if you run fast enough you can get past Chubbs' legs and back onto his bed for a bit more frolicking
  • you can hide inside a wardrobe
  • you can also hide behind dried flowers if you don't rustle them
  • if you meow long and sweetly enough, Chubbs will pick you up and lub you to bits

Sigh! *Smiles*

Oh, and I almost forgot. Fabby night out at the Coliseum for ENO's production of Boito's Mephistopheles. Alastair Miles sang well in the eponymous rôle. David Rendall sang well after his disappointing Otello and Susan Patterson took the female rôles well. Paul Daniel conducted. The chorus were excellent.

It's a B+ sort of an opera - not great but not bad. The critics, of course, hated it because it is not of the head; it is of the heart. We, the audience, loved it and roared our approval. The production by Ian Judge caught the right level of splendour, intimacy, inventiveness and kitsch. The auxiliary devils were quite a delight for the eye proving that the devil not only has all the best tunes but also most of the best bodies as well. *Smiles*