A treat from the city: rode to the new parks on Parliament Street because there's music almost every afternoon, and sat for an hour listening to fine young cellist George Crotty play by heart four of Bach's Unaccompanied Cello Suites. Busses, trucks, and cars roaring by, passersby paying not the slightest attention to the world's greatest music pouring out in the middle of Parliament Street.
Thank you, George. What a feat. I've just finished reading The Great Passion, by James Runcie, set in J. S. Bach's home and bringing to life the circumstances around the writing of the magnificent St. Matthew Passion. Anna Magdalena, his young second wife, is a major character. I loved being at home with the Bachs and their many many children.
Music also last night - went with Annie to hear friends of hers, musician actors who used to sing as Sweet Lips, perform in the courtyard of a condo building downtown. A perfect evening, with fun quirky songs like Jacques Brel's. Except I confess I left at intermission, had had enough, wanted to walk home to watch the final Grantchester, which was completely ridiculous and predictable and formulaic, but forgiven. Terrible what TV writers can get away with when you're fond of their characters.
Thomas came to assemble a small Ikea shelving unit and do other fixing around here. I'm like Eeyore with the empty honey pot Pooh gave him for his birthday, putting things into it and taking them out - I'm putting things on my lovely new shelves and moving them around. I don't think I've ever been so organized. Should not say this because something's undoubtedly coming to knock it all over, but except for my office with its piles and boxes of papers, the rest of the house, for the first time in my life, is relatively under control.
Little Miss Organized is going in for dinner: grilled salmon, ratatouille made with garden veg, fresh corn with lime. Peaches, many peaches. Summer. Halfway through August already! NOOOO.
Sigh.
Visiting too often lately:
Oh, I love the cello suites. I have many iterations -- Casals, Rostropovich (whom I was lucky enough to hear in Victoria in 1974 though he didn't play Bach), Yo Yo Ma, and others. Sometimes I put 5 discs on the cd player (because I'm old like that) and just listen to versions, each beautiful in a different way. Then go to bed where, yes, the jowl fairy visits quite often.
ReplyDeleteTheresa
Me too, Theresa. I did hear Yo Yo play a number of them. This young man was amazingly good, without music and with so much noise around him, including two old ladies chatting on a bench three feet from his elbow. Yo Yo did not have to put up with that! Yes, I looked at myself in the mirror a few months ago and saw ... jowls. SIGH!
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