Bookshelves and opera

Today I successfully got my mom and sister off. They're on the way to VA.

Then I cleaned all the books off my big bookshelf and stacked them around the room. They always say books expand in volume when they're all over rather than on shelves, and they seem to be right.

I really did have a reason for that, actually: it was all in the cause of decoration. I dismantled the bricks and boards and painted them black on the back patio.

To liven things up, I put on Macbeth: the Opera while I painted. :-D Great stuff, especially once I discovered the libretto and a translation. It's very operatic, in Italian (being by Verdi) and sort of reminded me of a cross between Dante, Shakespeare, and Gilbert and Sullivan. Strange combination. Their Lady Macbeth was a soprano of sopranoes, and the production (for reasons entirely mysterious to me) not only eliminated Young Siward entirely but managed to get Macduff on, Macbeth mortally wounded, and Macduff off again in thirty seconds flat. Then, of course, Macbeth got to sing his dying aria. Then the grateful commoners swarmed around Malcolm singing their undying gratitude for saving them from the tyrant. I like singing along with opera, especially Italian opera theoretically set in Scotland!