FROST, FIRE, AND TURKEY

Note:
as you read this post you'll probably notice that my text size and font style inexplicably keep changing. This has been happening to my blog for weeks, and so far everything I've tried to correct it has failed.

Also, the "I" key cap on my laptop keyboard is still broken and I have to go through a slow and painstaking process to insert an "i" into my words. 

Both of these problems have made typing so agonizng and frustrating that I no longer enjoy blogging. It's very diffcult to maintain my chain of thought while constantly struggling to eradicate these annoyances. I'm seriously considering abandoning my blog because of it.
Anyway, here's my latest post:
 

I indulged in one of my greatest passions last night. This is where your wicked imaginations should go into overdrive.

Opera! Not quite as good as sex, but a satisfying facsimile. I watched an entire performance of Die Walkure - a duration exceeding three hours. I was emotionally and spiritually transported to the realms of Valhalla, where I could easily reside forever.

Yea, I know - the subject of opera is a sure way to repel my three readers (bitter sarcasm inserted here), but allow me to vent for a glorious moment.

Wagner's artistic musical imagination and sheer genius for drama is beyond superb. Wotan's Farewell and the Magic Fire Music are so sublimely beautiful that the emotion overwhelms me.
 

Magic Fire Music on a very frosty November night. What could be better?

My personal favorite Brunnhilde?
Gwyneth Jones. I love her.
And Wotan?
Tough choice. James Morris and Donald McIntyre.

There. That wasn't so bad, was it? Now for a change of subject.

My previous blog post  All About Thanksgiving was written two years ago and posted on my old blog Lone Star Concerto. After reading it again, it's not quite as funny as I initially thought (I have a feeling that you agree.....)
but I still think it's good. 
And it's damn true.

 View from one of my bedroom windows

Thanksgiving?
I'll be spending it home alone, with the three pesky cats. I bought a turkey but think I'll save it for December. Why have turkey on Thanksgiving just because tradition dictates it? I might have roast chicken and stuffing. Haven't really decided yet.

Actually, I love turkey - - could eat it once a week, at least. And I always make homemade soup from the leftovers. Smoked turkeys are the very best, but they're expensive. 

I also make homemade pumpkin bread, pudding, and pie. Yea, I can cook.....I'm not just another pretty face.....I love anything with pumpkin in it.
I remember the delicious Mexican pumpkin candy I used to get as a kid on Olvera Street in Los Angeles.

What I like best about the holiday season is the festive atmosphere and the good food. I was never into family gatherings and all the faux unity and kissy kissy crap. Why bother to fake it once a year?

This undoubtedly stems from my parents. They had the most turbulent marriage in history and were complete opposites, but they fully agreed on one thing: they never liked holidays, parties, or inane social gatherings. 
The fact that we lived thousands of miles away from most of our relatives was another factor. We never had to worry about being involved in all the family holiday crap.

So what's happening here on the mountain? Beautiful days, but the temperature is supposed to drop to 15 degrees tomorrow night.(yes, 15 degrees Fahrenheit)I'm sure as hell not looking forward to it. I had to crawl under the house again today to check some things. Didn't scare me half as much as it did the first time. Emerged covered in dirt and cobwebs.

It's presently 3:00 p.m. - getting dark, rainy, windy, and cold. I'm going to make dinner and a cup of tea.

 

 

  
 

INTERLUDE

Final scene of Die Walkure

Wotan is igniting the magic fire

It was inevitable that my energy would finally wear out. I've moved many times before - it's no big deal to me. This time, however, the move dragged on seemingly forever and escalated into a harrowing ordeal. I wasn't settled for three months.

I finally have my new place. And my possessions. But I no longer have my stamina. I'm exhausted, worn out, unmotivated. I have a sinus infection and sore throat. This isn't the result of the pure mountain air. I had these particular maladies my entire life - no matter where I lived.

Am I complaining? Naw. Let's call it a minor case of innocuous bitching. Even sweethearts like myself have occasional foul days.

The weather is warming up. Slowly. It was in the 20's last night. In the 30's today. There are lots of birds in the nearby woods. Beautiful cardinals. Also deer and squirrels. No noticeable mountain lions or sightings of Big Foot.
 I can hear the sharp report of a hunter's rifle now and again. Sometimes a little too close for comfort - but it lends to the rural atmosphere.

I should have said "shot" instead of "report", but I wanted to sound proper and refined.

When I step out my back door and see the great threshold of a forest, I instinctively assume a Wagnerian Mode. This morning I immediately thought of Forest Murmurs from Siegfried.

Last night, in the company of my old friend Insomnia, I watched the final act of Wagner's  Die Walkure on YouTube. One of the most profoundly beautiful and moving scenes in the operatic repertoire, in my opinion.

Wotan's heartwrenching farewell to his daughter Brunnhilde. And the magnificent magic fire music.

The great angry god Wotan forfeits his daughter Brunnhilde's Valkyrie status and renders her a mere mortal - - then sentences her to eternal sleep, until she can be awaken by the kiss of any man brave enough to penetrate the protective fire that surrounds her.

.....and all this happened because Brunnhilde had rescued the hapless Sieglinde, who is pregnant with Siegfried (who will become the future rescuer of sleeping Brunnhilde), - - after Siegmund (father of the yet unborn child) has been killed because of Wotan's relentless wrath......

That's a gross simplification of the plot. I wouldn't want to confuse anyone with complicated details.

Unsuspecting novices are forewarned to drink whiskey and/or indulge in your favorite recreational drugs before attending an opera by Wagner. Extensive psychological rehabilitation may be required after attending a performance.

I jest, of course. I love Wagner's music with an unwholesome passion and can't get enough. I can sit through the entire Ring Cycle without flinching.

I didn't say rinse cycle.
I said Ring Cycle.

Hey, if you think this blog post is boring, you'd better hope I never decide to write about Nietzsche.

I'm really not sophisticated in the least. I'm just a simple country boy at heart.