This week would have been my father and step-mother’s twentieth wedding anniversary.
As more evidence that strange things are taking place worldwide . . . my garden is sprouting an elephant ear plant.
I never lifted the bulb 20 months ago. I planted parsley on top of it last year. This year the bulb is sprouting again. But it should be mushy dead.
I’m not complaining. But something has brought this thing back to life. Elephant ear resurrection, I say.
I’m so thankful that the Metropolitan Opera is streaming a different opera every night. Over the last eight weeks, I’ve watched probably two dozen different operas. And happily so!
Revisiting artists such as Pavarotti, Joan Sutherland, Renata Scotto, Pablo Elvira, Natalie Dessay . . . this continues to be a delight.
I’ve determined that I’m going to listen to an Evensong recording every Sunday, since no one is doing Evensong right now. I have enough recordings to last me for about three months. Many of them are themed to particular days, such as Evensong for St. Etheldreda from Ely Cathedral, or Evensong for Easter from King’s College Cambridge, with Boris Ord! (That’s what was up on this Sunday, the last Sunday of Eastertide.) Tomorrow is Evensong for Pentecost, and a week later is Westminster Abbey music for Trinity Sunday.