No, my friends, we did not get the house. Oh, no, no, no. The house (it was a little house) went for $400,000. That's 25% more than the list price. The house was beautiful, but it was in no way worth four hundred grand. It is a perfect example of why we are not able to buy in the area in which we live and work. Nothing makes any sense here in terms of real estate values. We reminded ourselves of this with this little episode, and resolved to look further north once more.
I consoled myself by buying opera tickets. My great friend Sei Shonagon and I are going to hear Don Giovanni in June. I will undoubtedly sing along under my breath. I adore the music. I can still sing all of "Batti, batti, o bel Massetto." I was in DG in college, playing the part of Village Maiden Number Two, if I recall correctly. My role was to flounce onstage clutching the arm of Don Giovanni (a flaming queen, oddly enough) and flirt lustily with him. I was not allowed to dance. It had been discovered during auditions, to my great dismay, that I could not sing and dance simultaneously. It was also discovered that when properly laced into my outfit I could easily eat dinner off my bosom. This is no doubt the reason for the demise of my promising career as a buxom village maiden. When everyone is in the balcony, as the French say, dancing is not the graceful and ethereal experience it should be. Nonetheless, I remain very fond of the opera.
Natasha went to the Salon des Chats a few weeks ago. She does not like the ribbon, but what can one do? One must suffer to be beautiful. Eventually, Keiko will rip it from her in a spirited game of Disembowl Your Sister.
I believe it has finally stopped raining. I like the rain, but my garden is bedraggled, and I fear for my freesias. They're completely beaten down. More tulips are emerging, and the geranium couldn't be happier, but everything else looks waterlogged. This weekend I will remove the violets, which have finally begun blooming again, from the last two window boxes and stick them somewhere permanent. Boy, I wish I could remember what I planted there. My great friend Steve Amaya gave me garden stakes precisely for this purpose, but I didn't think of them until too late and now I'm totally confused about what's supposed to be coming up in the box of violets. I might find out soon. I'm sure all this rain will encourage a huge growth spurt, especially as we are now slated for several sunny days. I am looking forward to my weekend, muddy plants and all.
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