Filtering from the self

It's hard to type on a cell phone with Antonio bumping his boy-cat head against your hands.

Leaking in roof at Ashton has spread, into the back room of the original house. Frustrated.

Yesterday was lazy day. Cold, rainy in morning. Went to Ashton and read Turner House and Leaves of Grass. Then, washed kitchen floor quick. Went to see Met simulcast of Nabucco which was wonderful. Verdi is so tuneful and the tunes are always so lovely, lilting, singable (is this what is meant by lyrical?). Tuneful, often sweet sounding, regardless of the content of the song.

The Hebrew slave chorus in Act 3 was just sublime, it appeared the chorus's performance brought James Levine to tears? They encored it, which I think is a fairly rare occurrence.

The singer Liudmyla Monastyrska  played Abigaille ando from her entrance her presence and vitality was unmistakable. Big voice but she can also sing soft, wring every last ounce out of an aria. Her voice, her performance focuses ones ear. You can't help but listen. Her dying aria ("su me morente")at the very end was magic.

Now usually playing baritone roles (he's sang 17 Verdi roles and performed thousands of times at Met. WOW), Placido  Domingo played Nabucco and was the afternoons draw for many. New Yorker complained his singing lacked bite. I'm not sophisticated enough a listener to know when I'm not getting bit.

Sunday was lazy. Read at Ashton. Wanted to hike at Harbison but apparently the wet conditions necessitate the closing of the trails in their entirety. Went to Peachtree Rock preserve in Pelion and hiked there about four miles. It was nice. Had forgotten to bring a hat. So, on way to Harbison, stopped at Sportsmans Authority on Piney Grove and bought a green hat branded "Turtle Fur."

Came back. Worked on Turner House and book group. Exploring possible hike for Saturday in Eastern Smokie Mountain Park.

Leaves of Grass with its big promise:
From Section 2 of Song of Myself
"Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems/
You shall possess the good of the earth and the sun, (There are millions of suns left,)/
You shall no longer take things second or third hand , nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,/
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self."

From Section 3:
"There was never any more inception than there is now,/
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,/
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,/
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now."