Monday, March 12, 2012

Everything is beautiful at the ballet. . . .

March 12, 2012


First day back after the March Break.

Break may be open to subjective interpretation.

Which results in something more like the Week-in-March-where-you-do-all-the-things-that-you've-put-off-doing.

And none of them involve work.

Even if they were supposed to.

In my case it meant replacing my all of a sudden disappeared into thin air Medicare card.

And taking Mum for a visit to the optometrist.

After her fall, which left her looking like she'd gone a round in the WWE ring, she noticed that her vision was blurry and she was unable to read with her glasses.

So I did the only thing I could.

Made an appointment for both of us to have our eyes tested. 

Luckily, there was no damage to her eyes as a result of her fall.

But, she did need new glasses.

For reading only.

Apparently, her progressive lenses, coupled with her posture, has made it impossible to read.

When her glasses come in, she'll have two pairs and she has to wear the progressive lenses all the time, except when she is reading.

And just like when I was a teenager, and HATED wearing my glasses, I had to say the same thing to her that she said to me. 

Now Mum, you have to wear your glasses ALL THE TIME. Except when you're sleeping.

She nodded that she understood. 

We'll see.

She has a rebellious streak.

After the eye exams, selecting new glasses, getting them retrofitted so I wouldn't have to take her to the optometrists again when her glasses arrived, we were starving.

Of course we were.

It was lunch time.

Luckily, there was a Swiss Chalet just minutes away.

And my mother loves Swiss Chalet.

As we were perusing the menus, I asked my mother what she wanted for lunch.

French Fries was her automatic reply.

I looked at her and asked, Mum, when we were kids, and asked for French Fries for lunch, what would you have said?

No, she replied.

So we compromised. 

French fries and a bowl of chicken corn chowder. 

Stephen and I had salads.

Don't think that the glasses and lunch mean my mother and I have reverted our relationship where I am the parent and she is the child.

It isn't like that at all.

More like she is almost 72 and will wear her glasses if she wants to and eat whatever she chooses.


Most of the break, I spent reading, sleeping, walking the dogs, going to the opera, having dinner with friends.

One of my students gave me the first book in The Hunger Games trilogy.

Big mistake.

Because it meant that by the end of the break, I had read the entire Hunger Games trilogy.

And have moved on to another series of books, recommended by a friend.


All set in a dystopic society where people are separated into the Uglies and the Pretties. At 16 you have surgery that moves you from an ugly to a pretty.

Non optional from what I can understand.

Very interesting books. 

The opera was the encore production of The Enchanted Island.

A baroque pastiche, combining Shakespeare's The Tempest with A Midsummer Night's Dream.

With a little Tinkerbell thrown in for measure.

I loved it.

In Review Enchanted Island HDL 1 312

Visually stunning, costumes gorgeous and Placido Damingo as Neptune.

Who wouldn't want to see it!

Here are some clips:

April 2, we will be seeing Ernani.

I can't wait.

And this Thursday Stephen and I are travelling to Saint John's Imperial Theater for the ballet Ghosts of Violence.

I won the tickets simply by listening to Connections with Olga Melosevich on CBC Radio 2.

And being the first caller from New Brunswick.

I didn't think we won as the call didn't come in until Sunday afternoon.

Opera and ballet!

What more could you want???????

Other than perhaps finishing all the marking I was supposed to do over the break.

And finally, we booked our two weeks at Murray Corner. 

Not the same place as last year.

They only had one week available.

I was sad, because I really liked the cottage.

This summer Stephen found a place across from the beach and behind the cottage, three acres for Frankie and Fynn to run and cavort their little hearts out. 

Something to look forward to. 


Title Lyric: At the Ballet from A Chorus Line

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