I CANNOT listen to that without crying my eyes out. I just can't control myself when I hear anything from Les Miserables. I don't know if it's because of the memories it has for me or just that the melodies are just so sweet, when they hit that 'sweet' note, tears come.
Recently, I have been to two concerts, both of them Flamenco guitar, singers and dancers. The first was Juan Martin - only one of the best flamenco guitarrists in the world! As soon as he started, and his swarthy singers did the clapping and that very distinctive singing, the tears started streaming. Both concerts, the same. The second was a troupe from Seville who spoke no English and just rambled on in Spanish. I was transported. I took Holly along to try and instill a love of Spanish Flamenco. I did wonder whether she might be too young for this type of music, it might have put her off Flamenco for life, but she loved it! But, how can I stop this crying when I hear music from my past?
When I was sixteen I spent a month on the Costa Del Sol on my own. Well, my parents were somewhere but I didn't see much of them for the whole month. They'd just bought a house there and were busy furnishing it etc and I was busy going down onto the beach and getting brown. A lovely guy asked me 'Tienes fuego?' Luckily for me, I smoked back in them days so I lit his fag and we made friends. He was English but lived in Spain and played the Flamenco guitar for a living every night. There followed a month of hanging out with this guy and all his Spanish friends and his 'troupe'. What a great summer that was. I'll never forget it. For a sixteen year old girl from a village near Swindon, this was Nirvana. Now though Flamenco makes me cry. It's not that I mind getting old, it's not even that nostalgic button being pressed, it's just my subconscious doing something odd.
Anyway, back to Les Miserables, I went to see the first production of this at The Barbican many moons ago with my friend Caroline. We had front row seats, we were so close to the 'action' it was wonderful. At the end we cried so much (it's very sad) that we had to stay in the auditorium until everyone had left because our faces were puce with crying. It was like the floodgates had opened - that cathartic blubbing you do when you just can't stop and if you don't get a grip you'll become hysterical. Ah, yes, that's maybe what it is, hysteria. As I write this I'm crying, I'm not sad, I'm probably stressed, so yes, I'm hysterical. Thank you, I've just analysed myself! What a great thing a blog is.
Well, back to the title of this post. ONE MORE DAY until we become the owners of our new house. The current owners had a party there last night, I drove past on my way back from 'Shrek 3' (not as good as the others) and saw all the lights on and a skip in the drive - I wonder what they are throwing away - I don't mind as long as it's not my plants! Every time I think about tomorrow my stomach does a flip. We still don't know how we are going to get the keys to the place, they are ignoring our emails and the solicitor can't get hold of them either. I'm not too worried about it, we'll get in somehow.
This is a long post and I've just about stopped crying now.