....there's bridge, of course. Had to take this picture, me all dressed up for winter in my fur hat and coat and gloves and boots, and partner Alex in his shorts.....
I have enough winter clothes for the next ice age, but never get a chance to wear them, because I'm always in the desert before it gets cold enough. It has been unseasonably chilly - okay, it's not Manitoba, but it is cold for here - so I have trotted out all my winter stuff. (David wasn't much of a present giver, but he bought me both hat and coat, and I always feel surrounded by him when I wear these. The hat is trimmed with possum, and was bought in New Zealand.....)
Friends John and Dennis and I took advantage of one of these fall-like days and went on a 10 1/2 kilometer walk around Burnaby Lake on Wednesday....
.......and followed it with a decadent lunch at the White Spot.....
.....for those of you who don't know, the White Spot is a Canadian institution - kind of like the USA's Dennie's, except without the racism. Although they are known for their hamburgers, I have never been very fond of their hamburgers. Their chicken pot pies, however, are to die for. And, since we are approaching Canadian Thanksgiving, they have brought back their pumpkin pie milk shakes. I know, it sounds dreadful, but it is actually yummy.....
More walks in the fall foliage.......
....and, on Friday night, friend Tom collected a group of us for dinner at Brava Cuchina (my new favourite Italian restaurant on the North Shore....)
..... and the theater. The dinner, was, as usual, fabulous. The theater, not so much. It was, if you will, experimental theater - what it means to be black, don't you know - and, amidst all the cursing and the scatalogical references, it didn't tall me anything I didn't already know. But that's the thing about live theater - sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. I rarely regret going, however...... luckily there was no intermission, so I didn't get a chance to leave before it was over....
Metropolitan Opera in the movies on Saturday with Jack, on the other hand, was fabulous. It was the first transmission on the season, and they did the Franco Zeffirelli production of Turandot, Puccini's last opera. Now, Turandot is not my favourite opera, but this may be the best production I ever saw/heard. Christine Goerke was a great Turandot (although I think she was a better Brunhilde. I never noticed the similarities in the roles before - both lose their "godliness" and are awakened by a hero to the power of love), and Leu, Calaf and Timur were also great, as were Ping, Pang and Pong as the comic relief. . That's the thing about the Met - every singer, every chorus member, every member of the orchestra - they are all great. Always.
The only sad thing was that the production was dedicated to Zeffirelli, who died last month at the age of 96. They showed a film of him as a (much) younger man, back stage at a number of his famous opera productions at the Met. He was truly a force of nature, and it was sad to think of him dead, and how different he must have been than his younger, vibrant self when I died.
As I've mentioned, I am heading for the desert in less than 2 weeks. At a certain point in this process, my mind definitely turns south, and it has done that now. The next few weeks will be a rush of good bye lunches, dinners, and bridge games, starting with dim sum today with friend Joyce. We went to our favourite, Fisherman's Terrace, and it didn't disappoint...
Only two books to report this week. The first is Michael Robotham's Close Your Eyes, a thriller. I don't usually read thrillers, but this is definitely an author I would read again. Finally, The Discreet Hero, by Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa. His Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter - I must have read it 20 years ago or more - got me hooked, and this one, although quieter was also a good read. And the endings of both were just right.....
I may of may not report again before I leave, but will for sure as soon as I get to Palm Springs. I am glad to be reporting again, and glad, from the look of the audience for the blog, you guys are still with me. Thank you.
I have enough winter clothes for the next ice age, but never get a chance to wear them, because I'm always in the desert before it gets cold enough. It has been unseasonably chilly - okay, it's not Manitoba, but it is cold for here - so I have trotted out all my winter stuff. (David wasn't much of a present giver, but he bought me both hat and coat, and I always feel surrounded by him when I wear these. The hat is trimmed with possum, and was bought in New Zealand.....)
Friends John and Dennis and I took advantage of one of these fall-like days and went on a 10 1/2 kilometer walk around Burnaby Lake on Wednesday....
.......and followed it with a decadent lunch at the White Spot.....
.....for those of you who don't know, the White Spot is a Canadian institution - kind of like the USA's Dennie's, except without the racism. Although they are known for their hamburgers, I have never been very fond of their hamburgers. Their chicken pot pies, however, are to die for. And, since we are approaching Canadian Thanksgiving, they have brought back their pumpkin pie milk shakes. I know, it sounds dreadful, but it is actually yummy.....
More walks in the fall foliage.......
....and, on Friday night, friend Tom collected a group of us for dinner at Brava Cuchina (my new favourite Italian restaurant on the North Shore....)
..... and the theater. The dinner, was, as usual, fabulous. The theater, not so much. It was, if you will, experimental theater - what it means to be black, don't you know - and, amidst all the cursing and the scatalogical references, it didn't tall me anything I didn't already know. But that's the thing about live theater - sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't. I rarely regret going, however...... luckily there was no intermission, so I didn't get a chance to leave before it was over....
Metropolitan Opera in the movies on Saturday with Jack, on the other hand, was fabulous. It was the first transmission on the season, and they did the Franco Zeffirelli production of Turandot, Puccini's last opera. Now, Turandot is not my favourite opera, but this may be the best production I ever saw/heard. Christine Goerke was a great Turandot (although I think she was a better Brunhilde. I never noticed the similarities in the roles before - both lose their "godliness" and are awakened by a hero to the power of love), and Leu, Calaf and Timur were also great, as were Ping, Pang and Pong as the comic relief. . That's the thing about the Met - every singer, every chorus member, every member of the orchestra - they are all great. Always.
The only sad thing was that the production was dedicated to Zeffirelli, who died last month at the age of 96. They showed a film of him as a (much) younger man, back stage at a number of his famous opera productions at the Met. He was truly a force of nature, and it was sad to think of him dead, and how different he must have been than his younger, vibrant self when I died.
As I've mentioned, I am heading for the desert in less than 2 weeks. At a certain point in this process, my mind definitely turns south, and it has done that now. The next few weeks will be a rush of good bye lunches, dinners, and bridge games, starting with dim sum today with friend Joyce. We went to our favourite, Fisherman's Terrace, and it didn't disappoint...
Only two books to report this week. The first is Michael Robotham's Close Your Eyes, a thriller. I don't usually read thrillers, but this is definitely an author I would read again. Finally, The Discreet Hero, by Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa. His Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter - I must have read it 20 years ago or more - got me hooked, and this one, although quieter was also a good read. And the endings of both were just right.....
I may of may not report again before I leave, but will for sure as soon as I get to Palm Springs. I am glad to be reporting again, and glad, from the look of the audience for the blog, you guys are still with me. Thank you.
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