Thursday evening drainage party

Spending the evening metabolizing decongestants and microwaving a wet washcloth and lying on the couch with said washcloth over face breathing steam and attempting to clear blocked Eustachian tubes before having to get on plane tomorrow (and also wondering when it was that I last laundered that particular washcloth). And meanwhile listening to Kristin Flagstad singing Wagner. That is a voice that will penetrate through any amount of accumulated mucus, although I completely understand why she never marketed herself that way.

Specifically, I’m listening to her sing bits of Tristan und Isolde. I keep listening to this opera every so often, but I never seem to really absorb it, somehow. Maybe I need to watch my DVD of it again.

(Update after further listening:

Me: where have you been all my life, Kirsten Flagstad?

Kirsten Flagstad: Dead, sweetie. I’ve been dead. But I’m glad you’re enjoying those digitally remastered reissues of my famous records.)

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