Fireworks and Water

We trekked into Boston via public transporation tonight for the Handel and Haydn concert at Symphony Hall. Handel's Music for the Royal Fireworks and Water Music, also Bach's Orrchestra Suite No 3 and some Purcell.

Missed the train by milliseconds and had to wait 12 minutes for the next one in the 20 degree cold. Man reading Car and Driver across from me. Notice bare skin peeking out from gap in his cotton dress shirt. No undershirt, no sweater, just a storm coat, weird hat and gloves. He chewed his fingernails while he read.

On the green line, S.O. sits next to crazy woman: a) she has no teeth, b) she has a perfect witch profile, c) she talks to herself and everyone and d) she gets up twice and does a little dance. S.O. ignores, but the man sitting on the other side smiles gently which seems to make her happy.

Concert wonderful. Too many old folks, though. Classical music will die if we don't get young people to these concerts. Woman in vicinity has drenched herself with perfume. Doesn't smell bad, just too strong.

Harry Christophers conducts in a very vigorous manner, and sometimes weird and spastic and again dancing, almost, and I'm afraid he'll fall off his podium, but he doesn't. Orchestra stands for the entire concert except for cellists, etc.

Afterward, back onto the T except there are 300 people waiting after the performance and the train doesn't come for 15 minutes and when it does, it's almost full, so there's one of those tight situations when you become intimate with perfect strangers. At least nobody weird.

We catch the Red Line after a short wait. Middle aged couple in love across from us. Isn't love strange? Isn't it wonderful? And mysterious, too. No wonder so many books, movies, songs, and such are all about love. It hold on to the mystery.

Back home, and all is well. House still reeks of last nights Pan Seared Scallops in Ginger Broth. I can still smell the curry, the scallops and the ginger. Not unpleasant, but man does the odor hang around. Burned candles all afternoon which did nothing. Too freaking cold to open the windows.

Thisbe went out on the porch for 45 seconds today, and again for about 30 seconds. Saw a turtle dove and ran back inside. I don't know about her. What kind of a cat is afraid of birds? Remember, Friday is cat blog day.

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