Just got back from a lovely visit to Cambridge where my daughter and son in law took me out for lunch, long chat, and then off I went on a visit to the Haunted Bookshop where I picked up a couple of D E Stevenson, then back to bus stop via other bookshops, only bought another one, and back to the Park and Ride. Into the car, started off and on went the radio and drove home listening to Act one of Die Walkure, live from the Met, and final notes played just as I parked my car at home. Perfect timing.
I am now very tired and about to put my feet up for an hour and have a read. I am also going to listen to the rest of Die Walkure (I think). I say I think as the Brunnhilde has just made her entrance and her 
initial Hiya ho tos were a bit squally to say the least and her middle register has a vibrato you could use to knock on doors. Still, we shall see if she gets better. Easy for me to criticise and singing this role in the huge cavern that is the New York Met must be a killer. It is the last act of Walkure that is my favourite with the most wonderful duet between Brunnhilde and Wotan at the end. The orchestra of the opera house sounds superb as well and they really give it a load of welly in the glorious finish. This will not be until around 11 pm so may listen to it on the headphones as my upstairs neighbour may not take kindly to Wagner's outpourings that time of night.
Helen, my daughter, told me that she and James are being taken to Glyndbourne by her dad and his wife and when I asked what they were seeing was told 'the Faery Queen by Purcell' and while I love Purcell I could understand Helen saying they are not ungrateful and going there is an experience in itself but 'oh mum, I would so much rather it was something like Tristan and Isolde…'
It is at moments like this, I realise I have brought my daughter up properly and that I am a Good Mother….
The sofa, Wagner and the kettle beckon.
PS – have just finished listening to the opera. Brunnhilde really got into her stride and by the final act and the duet with Wotan, they were both singing fantastically well. The orchestra was playing like angels and, as always, with this particular opera I was in tears at the end, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty and sublime grandeur of the music. Wagner was without doubt one of the most unpleasant men ever, and yet he wrote like an angel. I can never understand this contradiction.
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