The weather has been downright pleasant the past couple of weeks. In the low to mid 80s, with occasional spikes to the high 80s or maybe as hot as 92. I was so happy to see that finally summer was beginning to slip away and hoped that soon we would be seeing the leaves change color and enjoying the occasional cool breeze.
Yesterday it was 104 and today was predicted to be 107 today. Triple digits are predicted for the rest of the week. Groan.
I thought that was OK because we were getting out of town later this morning on a busman's holiday, down to meet Char and go to the Lamplighters' latest production of Yeomen of the Guard What does a theater critic do on her day off? Go to the theater, of course.
This production was being put on in Livermore, which is on the east side of the bay from San Francisco. I thought I'd see what temps to expect in Livermore. As I said it was 104 here yesterday and at the same time it was 103 in Livermore, so I didn't take a jacket with me.
Sigh.
Autumn, you are toying with my feelings! Hurry up and rid me of this cursed summer we have been not enjoying.
I don't really know why I'm complaining about the weather. We have an air conditioned house, I have a water cooler that dispenses chilled water 24/7, there is a big fan in the family room to complement the air conditioning, and I even have a small fan next to my chair that I can turn on if the larger fan doesn't provide enough cool air.
If it had not been for going to Atria yesterday, I would not have had a clue what the temperatures were outside.
I started reading a Tess Gerritsen novel ("I Know a Secret"), figuring I would take my usual two hours of reading time before doing anything else. Only the big problems with Tess Gerritsen is that you can't just put the book down in 2 hours and come back to it. In fact, I had to force myself to put it down in order to go to Atria for an hour and as soon as I got home, I was back in the book again. I almost forgot to cook dinner, but did tear myself away from the book to get some food on the table before returning to finish the last few chapters of the book.
This is book #11 in the Rizzoli and Isles series, the books on which the TV show of the same name is loosely based. I say "loosely" because Jane Rizzoli is nothing like the character in the early books (who always struck me as more like Rhea Pearlman, than Angie Harmon).
The book Rizzoli was short, pugnacious, and eventually married. Harmon is tall, gorgeous, and dating. (And does a detective really wear spike heels to an investigation?) I have come to suspend disbelief and enjoy Angie Harmon in the role but when I read the books, I still see Rhea Pearlman.
But Gerritsen really knows how to craft a story that will hold your interest. I can't think of any of her books that I have dawdled over.
The visit with my mother went well. I ran into her roommate Marge's daughter in the hall. I had not met her before. She was holding a bracelet in her hand and said that her mother had been "shopping" again and she was on her way to return to bracelet to the office so they could find out which resident she had taken it from. I'm sure she has taken things from my mother's apartment. Fortunately my mother doesn't miss them and she has nothing of any real value in there anyway, so it's just easier not to make an issue of it.
She was in good spirits. Her arm seems to be healing nicely. She complains of pain, but does not shriek as she did the last time I saw her, so it's doing much better. At 100+ degrees, I am not going to take her for a doctor follow-up to have the doctor say it's doing fine and come back if there are problems. It's hard enough getting her outside when the weather is reasonable.
Her main concern today is that she is getting old. We spent the better part of an hour speaking on that theme until I decided it was time to get home and back to the blood gore of my book.
The
show this afternoon was wonderful, of course. Char brought her friend
Connie, who has been to Lamplighters shows before, but was not familiar with
Yeomen so it was a voyage of discovery for her. Is there
anything more impressive than a bunch of yeomen, in costume, singing their
hearts out?I have a soft spot in my heart for this show, and mixed feelings since Gilbert died during a run of Yeomen. He was not performing, of course (one of his best roles was that of Jack Point in this show) but was conducting the orchestra.
I am particular about my Jack Points and Lawrence Ewing, who did the role today, nailed it. Oboist Kathy Connor was telling us that he ends up crying at the end of every show, and you could just see that he embodied Jack Point's pain as he is scorned by the lady he has loved for so many years.
W.S. Gilbert's stage notes say that Point "falls insensible" and never lets the audience know definitively if the character lives or dies. Lawrence says that for him, there is no question but that Point dies and his death is very touching -- no matter how many times I have seen this show (and I have seen it dozens of times), it still brings me to tears.
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| Walt with Kathy Connor after the show |
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