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After over a week’s wait, the lady finally called me this past Monday and told me that I could come get the white one’s cremains and finally bring him home.  The lady that runs the Cimarron pet cemetery and provides the crematorium services also grooms dogs.  She did have a store front in town, but apparently she has let it go and she now does everything out at her place on what is now County Road 7700 (it will eventually become 178th Street at some point) — which is way out in the inutterable boonies.  It took me two tries to find the place.  I knew you got to it by going south on Slide Road.  So south I went, keeping an eye peeled for a sign of some kind, but on the first attempt, I not only missed CR 7700, I ended up way the heck out in Slide, which is a don’t-blink-or-you’ll-miss-it little burg south of town whose only claim to fame is that Slide Road is called “Slide Road” because — you guessed it — it’s the road to Slide.  I did find the place on the second try, 2015_05_03-02however, and only had to ask directions once.  The weather was grey and overcast, and I got rained/sprinkled on the whole time.

The cremains are sealed in plastic and are inside a purple cloth drawstring pouch with gold embroidery on that says “We’ll meet again across the Rainbow Bridge” or something like that.  I found him a little “urn” at the Pier 1 store, which is also located on Slide Road but considerably closer to home, at the corner of 60th Street.    The white one’s “urn” is the one in the middle.  Shadow’s “urn” is on the left, the one with the turquoise and silver bracelet on top.  Shadow was the first one I lost.  The “urn” on the right with the angel sitting atop it is Jett’s.  He was the second one I lost.  That little silver looking lump in front of it is a pin with 3 kitties on it that LK, one of the ladies in the knitting group, gave me.  When I got the grey one as a kitten, she had a pink ribbon tied around her neck to indicate that she was female.  When I got her home, I cut it off her neck and tied it around the knob atop Shadow’s “urn.”  I keep them on my dresser in my bedroom on a brass tray that my mom brought me back from Poland when she and my dad went there as part of an eastern European tour they took back in the early 1980’s.

Speaking of my mom, she had gotten us tickets to a concert of Georges Bizet’s opera “Carmen” which we saw last night.  There were three guest performers singing the three main roles, with faculty members and a doctoral student from the TTU School of Music rounding out the cast.  The opera was not staged.  Our symphony orchestra and chorale were seated on stage and the singers performed in front of them, although the main characters did act out parts. The lady who sang the role of Carmen was a native of Puerto Rico and was a rather petite young woman.  She had sung the role with the opera companies of several major cities and she was quite good.  The tenor, “Don José,” was a bit histrionic, but then so is the role.  He also had sung the role in several opera companies.  However, the one who stole the show was the baritone, “Escamillo” (the toreador).  He was a very tall Black man (at least a head taller than the tenor!), who had a beautiful voice.  He is a “native son” of our town, but he has degrees from several prestigious music schools and he has also sung in several opera companies.  The opera was sung in French, but there were screens on either side of the stage where translations of the lyrics were shown.  It was a creditable performance by the orchestra and the singers were good.  I enjoyed it, but it was a little bittersweet for me as “Carmen” was my dad’s favorite opera and hearing  it brought back so many memories.  Of course, the big arias are the Habañera, which Carmen sings, the toreador song, sung by Escamillo, and the flower song that Don José sings.

2015_05_02-01In other news, I have 25 rows to go to finish this little knitted dress, which I hope to do before knitting group on Tuesday, so I can show it off.   It’s a sweet little dress.  The photo at right doesn’t do justice to the yarn colors, which are peach, green, raspberry pink and white (see below). I’d be done with it already but the openwork lace is fiendishly tricky and I keep goofing and having to rip out where I goofed up.  However, I love a challenge, and this little dress certainly is one.  I think the next dress I’m doing is 2015_04_20-01this one, but I can’t start it until I finish this one.

I wonder if the parents of the kid upstairs are divorced and have joint custody; he only seems to be here every other weekend — not that I’m complaining, mind you!  If so, this is his weekend with the parent who lives upstairs, and he’s been thumping from room to room to room to room to room to room to room to room all afternoon long.  It’s a shame scientists can’t find a way to capture and reuse all that energy.  We’d never have to worry about fossil fuels again.  At about 6 p.m. there was a tremendous amount of scooting of chair legs on the floor as they got up from dinner for about 10 minutes.  Grump . . . grump . . . .grump . . .

 

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