Distractions

I spent ages trying to force my garage key into the back door lock in the pitch dark on Saturday night until I remembered a tiny torch in my handbag and finally got indoors. I could just see myself sleeping in the car. I was back from Il Trovatore, Live From the Met, a feast of music with Anna Netrebka, Dmitri Hvorostovski, the amazing Yonghoon Lee from South Korea and Dolora Zajick. The last two times I saw this opera were at Covent Garden 20-odd years ago prior to the coming of surtitles, so the story came as a complete revelation to me. I knew so many people in the audience that Ruth was wondering who has lived in Suffolk for 15 years, her or me? Prior to the opera we settled ourselves in the Wentworth with a tray of tea for a catch-up after 3 weeks apart. I'd spent the afternoon at Snape ushing at the Flipside Festival of Latin American music, dance and literature, and was lucky enough to be in on Chloe Adjis, Julia Blackburn, Louis de Berniere, and a trio of aging, multi award-winning writers from Brazil, Mexico and Angola who looked respectively like a sexy leather clad biker, an amiable professor and a drug dealer. They were so bright, so talented and earnest in their role of explaining their countries to their readers and themselves that I wished they could have talked for another hour. The weekend weather was glorious, and the Mexican food I was given two days running, the most delicious enchillados, was enjoyed in baking sunshine though another usher complained that all those beans gave her wind. There was plenty for children to do at the festival, but what a shame that they were all so middle class, already privileged beyond fairness while the children of Leiston or Saxmundham for example who would have benefitted most from such creative, fun activities were nowhere to be seen.

My weekend was made, I have to be honest, by England going out of the Rugby World Cup, though Ireland's struggle against Italy gave me palpitations until they drew safely ahead. Italy a threat? Since when? Every year in the Six Nations they vie with Scotland for the wooden spoon. Ireland meet France on Sunday so I'll be yelling them on then too. My dream is to see them win the cup. After a very productive evening at Italian that included home-made chocolate cake I could probably say that in several tenses including Conditional (I would like them to win), Subjunctive (Were they to win), Imperfect (When they used to win), Pluperfect (They had won), and best of all Perfect (They won)!!!!!

It's finally started to rain, not heavily but enough to make the garden smell and look wonderful. Much more is to come and then it will be fine again. The weather eh? Doesn't it keep you on youer toes?