The deed is done. You carry on.

It’s over. It went well from the audience reaction, a sadly small audience. Only one of my students showed up, which was rather disappointing. But the two Dr. M’s were there, and they both loved it. Herr Doktor Professor was there, and he thought it was great. My lower notes in my voix mixte started to disappear after the intermission (they weren’t great before it, either, but at least they were there) and I had to fudge with chest voice or there wouldn’t have been anything at all. The high F’s in Der Hölle Rache didn’t quite make it, and I realized yesterday or the day before that this will be the last time I sing that one in public. Menopause is exacting a price. The E-flat at the end of Lucia’s mad scene was perfect, though.

Afterwards we came home so I could change out of my finery and went to the buffet at the Indian restaurant, which was wonderful as usual. I ate way too much and now am feeling rather uncomfortable and distended. I’ll survive, I’m sure.

My son, who is here for his reading week, said something so funny I had to write it down. He said that for the crazy stuff, I should have come out on stage wearing a tattered bathrobe covered with cats. What a guy!

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