Flat on our backs singing

"Bring your umbrella", my opera buddy commanded.  The weather was supposed to get wild mid-afternoon.  No way could I take that big maroon and white Plano Panther cross country mom umbrella to the Winspear Opera House.  Dug around in the hall closet just in case wishing could make a smaller umbrella appear.  Lo and behold, there was a mid-size umbrella in a black sleeve.  Tickets, binocs, snacks, umbrella, and I was off to experience Verdi's Rigoletto for the first time.

What an experience it was!  James Valenti was quite as fine as the lusting Duke as he was in '09's La Boheme, but we would prefer he not wax his chest hair.  Paolo Gavanelli was powerful as the hunchback jester.  Laura Claycomb brought tears to our eyes as Rigoletto's innocent daughter Gilda.  She stunned the entire audience with her performance of "Caro nome" sung while flat on her back.  It's about 4:56 into this video. 

This feat surpasses the performance by the early literacy presenter at Saturday's training session.  She was able to sing "Little Seed" to the tune of "I'm a Little Teapot" and then to the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies theme song back-to-back:

Here's a little seed in the dark, dark ground.

Out comes the warm sun, yellow and round.

Down comes the rain, wet and slow.

Up comes the little seed,

Grow, grow, grow!

I cannot sing lying on my back, not even to the tune of "I'm a little teapot".  Not in the thunderstorm waves of lightning and rain beginning about 1:30 this morning.  [And not in a boat or with a goat.]  Sure, I'm stiff and creaky, but mostly I was being still, soaking up the sounds, and being grateful for the rainfall.  So glad I didn't have to open Dad's freebie Munsingwear umbrella in the elite opera crowd. 

Had my bone density scan after work.  It was nice to be still, just lying there letting the machine collect evidence to present to my doctor.  Her lectures about blood pressure, weight, and osteoporosis are still a few weeks off.

Dad is flat in bed when I get to his room, but he wants to get up.  The hospice nurse left me a message that Dad was up and self-propelled in his wheelchair much of today.  Seems he was a bit sad, "not feeling like" himself.  At two he was ready to get in bed, but after a nap he's ready for action.  This is such a treat!

The aide who changed Dad from clothes to hospital gown for his nap does not want to get him back up.  Dad is adamant, so I change him back into clothes myself.  We insist on the help of the aide to put Dad in his wheelchair, and then we
go outside!

For ten minutes Dad is energized in the fenced courtyard, watching traffic on Park Boulevard, bombing around in the wheelchair smashing into the sidewalk edging,  and looking at the rose bushes.  The wind gives him an open milkweed pod look.  Suddenly Dad is too chilly.  We head back inside for his supper.  I mark the calendar for Dad's first time outdoors in Texas.

© 2011 Nancy L. Ruder