Z gets back into the Swing

I went to hear a lecture this morning, in the usual monthly way – and it was absolutely brilliant, by the way. I’m not sure what our frightfully nice members thought of her clumpy shoes, baggy jeans and rugby shirt: I knew what to expect as I’d met her before, and in any case they were certainly won over by the learned yet brilliantly funny lecture.

Anyway, before it started, the technician whom I had not yet met came to introduce herself. “You are,” she started cautiously, “the one who stands on the stage jabbering away* and thanking the lecturer?”. I admitted it and looked a little downcast. “Oh no, it’s good” she explained. “It makes it all seem not so highbrow and I can make some sense of it.”

Oh heck, the child doesn’t even know me and she feels able to say this. I hope this is a good thing. I can feel myself starting to be a caricature of myself and it’s a little frightening.

The Sage left at larkfart to catch the London train, so I was in no great hurry to come home. Depressingly, I couldn’t be bothered to go round the Norwich shops and shopped at a different supermarket instead. I say depressingly, because shopping for basic foodstuffs is surely nothing of a treat at all. I usually go to local shops and, for a trolleyful, the local Co-op, but this time I went to Waitrose!!(!). One always buys frightfully nice stuff in Waitrose, I find, because it would be just too embarrassing to come out bearing packets of poptarts or cheezy wotsits. Not that I buy such things anyway, of course…

On the way home, I called in to pick up some fruit from Al. He has bought some attractive baskets to put the produce in, instead of the plastic ones he used to have. “They’ve been there for ages, haven’t you noticed?” he said airily. I reminded him that I’d been away for ten days. He’d sort of forgotten. He spent last Sunday painting the woodwork at the front of the shop – it can only be done on a Sunday of course, so he has to do it himself. This means he loses his only complete day off of the week, but there’s no help for that. The masonry needs to be painted as well, and this will be quite a big job. Not that it’s a big shop, but it’s detached and so there are three sides to do.

Woo-hoo, my darling has just arrived home. I must go and prepare to be kissed.

*I can’t remember exactly what she said but, startlingly enough, it was something very like this

9 comments on “Z gets back into the Swing

  1. Jane

    I miss Waitrose, it’s the only thing that King’s Lynn really lacks. We occasionally go to the one in Swaffham, which is absolutely lovely if a little underused I fear.

  2. Dandelion

    I would like to know what the lecture was about.

    I am guessing from the outfit that maybe it was to do with frogs, toads, or other water life. Or maybe any animal life at all. Or maybe plants and gardening, or ecosystems or ecology.

    But then I’m not sure that those topics would inspire you to call it absolutely brilliant. So maybe we are talking astro-physics? Not much joke-mileage there though, so perhaps not.

    I’m racking my brain here. Highbrow, yet at the same time brilliantly funny. It’s the clumpy shoes, I think have got me stumped.

  3. Z

    There’s one on the outskirts of Norwich, Jane – about 16 miles from me. Just as well I don’t get there often, too many things to tempt me.

    Opera, D, and the way it has changed to fit in society through the centuries.

  4. Z

    At Verdi’s funeral the streets were lined with people – I think she said three million of them. She showed photos – it was incredible. Spontaneously, they sang the chorus of the Hebrew slaves from Nambucco. He reached out to the whole of Italy.

  5. The Boy

    Did she voice an opinion on the modern musical as opera? LL have agreed to disagree on this point.

    Now how does one prepare to be kissed other than being in the appropriate place at the appropriate time?

  6. Z

    She didn’t touch on that, but talked about how at present it’s quite difficult for an opera house and for a composer, as some money comes from the Arts Council and they want quite radical pieces of work (and probably won’t go and listen to it) but theatregoers want something to enjoy and are paying out their own cash, not grants of public or charity money. So when planning their programme, they have to sandwich the new stuff with the popular items.

    She said that America manages things rather better, because they have rich and generous private patrons and operas like Nixon in China are the result.

    I turned away from the computer and was ready with my arms open and an expectant smile on my face. No further encouragement was needed.


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