Leah's Journal

07 DECEMBER 2005

Where does the time go? Three plus months since my last entry - amazing! Last weekend was special. After rising at 0500, on a blustery Saturday morning, to perform critical household duties in preparation for my expected guest, I drove down to Union Station at about noon to pick up Cynthia. We immediately went to a local wine shop in Hyde Park whose selection was extensive. We settled on a lovely Syrah from Australia loaded with "polished tannins." We enjoyed several glasses that were accompanied by a delicious brie with portabello mushrooms in what was supposed to be puff pastry but was, in reality, a solid, heavy bread casing.

Off we went to the Lyric Opera. Manon Lescaut was the evening's musical fare -one of Puccini's earlier operas. Though I was unfamiliar with the music, Cynthia recogized one of the arias. There was a lot of glorious choral support and the production was impressive. Manon Lescaut was a young girl on her reluctant way to join the convent. She ran off with a dashing, though penniless, young man and soon traded him in for a more prosperous, older roue'. The older man discovers the young Manon in the arms of her dashing, penniless lover and banishes her. Still enthralled with luxury, Manon pauses to collect her jewels - a transgression for which her older "sponsor" has her arrested. I still remember the ending of the opera with stiffled giggles. The opera notes had informed us that the Manon was deported to "the desert plains of Louisiana." Cynthia opined that Puccini had never been to Louisiana. After succumbing to exhaustion and throat-parching thirst, it was time for Manon to die - this took a long time. After each of six to seven times that I thought she had expired, Miss Manon would again soar into song.

It was a fun evening though unfortunate in that we ate the brie with crackers late in the day and skipped having supper. By the time the opera was finished, the restaurants were closed. Cynthia, hungry and gracious, settled for more crackers and some homemade brownies, without nuts, that were made from a box mix.............and, of course, the lovely Footbolt Syrah with polished tannins.