|Left-over Birthday Cake|
|The Press House Wine Bar (obviously before we got there!)|
These festivities were interrupted only briefly when I took the microphone and made my Birthday Speech. I can't give you the text, because it was extempore...but I do recall proposing a toast to the artists, with Kyle, in our traditional after-opera cocktail, the Kir Royale. Silliness is no reason not to preserve a good tradition.
The last revellers made their way home at about 1 am. Petra (visiting from Zurich) walked me all the way to my front door, carrying the enormous bunch of flowers which had been conferred upon me by the gorgeous Madame Thomas. The unaccustomed stilettos were killing me, but I slept the sleep of a contented Birthday Girl.
|Madame Thomas serves the French toast|
|Barton and Tamara chill out...|
|Escargots. No, I didn't.|
|The happy throng at Sarastro|
You will be relieved to know that I spent Monday morning drawing up a study plan and catching up on my reading on Descartes. Yes, I did really.
Some images from: