A Fine Sunday

The night air is cool and good. Lord, it is friss and refreshing. Beautiful. ...as Beslin used to write.

What a glorious day it was: Sunny morning with The News, perfect air, brunch in Hoboken with Markowitz, driving to jigs, reels and ballads on Bronx Irish radio while flying over the Pulaski Skyway in the Chevy, home again jiggity jig, back out to the highway with the jazz at dusk and a few jars with big Johnny Mac behind the stick at The Quiet Woman to finish it up. I've had worse Sundays.

And I was happy to be busy with it all, busy simply enjoying, since there was little in the papers today. So far, the best piece I have come across is the book that is this week’s Sunday Times is the fine little obit about one of brave, lucky Aussie. And The News had a nice little shout-out for their reporters and photogs who covered the March on DC forty years ago.

Time to search through the Times for another gem or two.

Or maybe I will just click back to Ken's blog. He seems to be doing well with it today.