I virtually stole today's Sunday, which is supposed to be a workday for me, and spent the first half of the day at home, drawing my yellow tulips, and the second half - with my best friend at the cafe, over some ginger-mint tea and a slice of delicious cherry strudel with whipped cream and vanilla sauce.
This was the view from where we were sitting, the Opera and Ballet Hall.
The pavements are mostly covered with thick and polished layers of ice. Walking upright is a serious challange. I liked this couple: the poodle would run ahead as far as the leash allowed, and then would stand still and wait for the old lady to catch up with him. He never tugged, though, probably taking care not to upset his mistress.
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Yesterday, three girls sitting next to me in the bus, were discussing excitedly how Luciano Pavarotti had been castrated by his parents in infancy to preserve his unique voice, and if it was hard for him when he was growing up, and if he is living a happy life now... The efforts it took me to keep my mouth shut.