Vecchia Zimarra is an aria in Act IV of La bohème in which Colline (bass) sings farewell to his old coat. He is going to sell it to buy medicine for the dying Mimi.
Dear old coat, listen,
I stay here below,
but you must now
ascend the mount of piety!
Receive my thanks.
You never bent your threadbare
back to the rich and powerful.
You have sheltered in your pockets
like peaceful caves,
philosophers and poets.
Now that happy days
have fled, I bid you farewell,
my faithful friend,
farewell, farewell.
It is hard to say farewell to a friend who has been faithful for sixteen years but with sadness I have said goodbye to the Nespresso machine. It was past it. The lever was stiff and it had become incontinent. I could have taken it to Currys; did you know they take in all defunct electrical goods even if they weren’t bought at Currys? However, Nespresso machines are surprisingly heavy and I decided a tasteful interment in the green wheelie bin was less impersonal.
Its replacement shows youthful vigour. It is slimmer and has higher pressure like many youths producing a richer crema and if it lasts sixteen years that will probably see me out. It’s another Magimix.
Meanwhile the council have devised a cunning way to kill pedestrians. The cemetery wall bulges a bit – it has for years – and in the interests of safety barriers have been put up to stop it suddenly falling on somebody. This has put the pavement out of action so pedestrians moving between the cemetery and the shops now walk in the road. Much safer?
The Premier Inn (terracotta) and the multi-coloured student accommodation dominate my view northwards almost completing obscuring the Novotel (right), The Ark (left) and dwarfing the BP car wash (bottom right).
