It is official, winter is here I know this because the Sainted One gets sown into his vest and then seals all the windows up with a strange grey sort of blue tack. Some of them are excluded from this treatment because of the obsession moi has with night air and ventilated bathrooms. I am very OCD about bad smells and other peoples ablutions. It is surprising that people who live here do not end up constipated because no trace of these functions must be discernable in our commodious villa. There is much more I can say on this subject and nasal hair, but I won’t go on because you have heard it all before. Sadly having just had the carpets cleaned I trod in a dog pooh yesterday and trod it right through the house. The smell of Dettol wafts through the air reminding me of when I had TB as a child and my mother hung a Dettol soaked sheet over my sick room door in which I was confined for many weeks. Mouse droppings have also played a role this week , one of them ate some of our delightful lodgers muesli Tom the mouse man was summoned, who is the Inspector Poirot of the mouse world . The mice have quietened down, but not so the one on my laptop which is driven by Windows Seven and is completely insane.
When I was visiting my adorable Italian relatives in Rome recently, we went to a gorgeous house where Tito Gobi’s beautiful daughter lives, to attend a concert to remember her father, who was the greatest Scarpia of all time, he being the villain in the opera Tosca, for those of you who are ignorant of such important facts. We were played some black and white footage of some of Gobi’s performances which put me in a receptive mood for the cinema live from the Met, the following week, featuring that great opera…. the large Russian who sang the role of Scarpia had none of the allure required; since I have a theory that Tosca was a loose woman and very turned on by the evil villain, she only changed her mind about him when she heard her lovers screams, as he had his fingernails removed, in the adjoining blood soaked torture chamber next to the seduction pad.. I thought it was an excellent performance, but I have heard a lot of people complaining about the way Tosca threw herself off the battlements at the end, because it was not dramatic enough. This is typical of one of the things I hate about opera groupies, that, and them knowing some of the first lines to specific arias, which they recall with a stupid soupy expression on their faces, plus a list of people they have heard sing them with dates and venues. Personally I am always very restrained about these things, since I hate this “grandstanding” thing people do as they get older, it’s because they don’t get out enough. I never mention the fact that I met Maria Callas in her dressing room when my Godmother, who was one of the most famous singers of all time you understand .. took me out of school, to hear the great Diva at Covent Garden. She admired my diamond earrings which the said Godmother let me wear for the evening, they were I gather, a gift from a member a European Royal Family for services rendered on more than one occasion.. believe that and you will believe anything. Anecdotal stories get worse as people get older, retrieved memory is usually delusional, it goes like this .. you once heard of a woman who was shot out of a canon, soon will be she was a close relative the next thing is that it was you who were shot out of the canon. Actually I did know a very posh woman who claimed to have been, but I never really believed her. She invented it to out do her fantasist husband who ended up being murdered by a prostitute!!!