Someone today suggested we approach the Spitzer debacle from the perspective of "There but for the grace of God go I." In one sense, this is right -- surely we have all, at times, done things we are (or ought to be) ashamed of... and were just lucky enough not to be caught and publicly humiliated or punished.
But in another sense, the sentiment is entirely off-base. Surely it is not really God's grace that keeps millions of married men from structuring complicated financial transactions so that they can clandestinely spend vast sums of money to cheat on their wives. I think it might be something more like a basic sense of decency.
Maybe an "otherwise decent" guy might stray (a debatable point), but the facts would look very different -- an affair might start when he turns a blind eye to the signs that a friendship is transforming into something more, or he might hook up with someone under the influence of drugs or alcohol. It's a question of whether there is at least an element of fortuity to the misdeed, rather than cold calculation. A guy who deliberately plans how to funnel thousands of dollars to a brothel and books prostitution services in advance to coordinate with his out-of-state trips knows exactly what he is doing and can't even hide behind the fig leaf of being swept away by passion. Somewhere along the path that Spitzer reportedly tread, a man with the slightest shred of decency would bail out because he could not possibly justify these machinations to himself.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Aruba, Arriba!
X, whom I've not seen in 6 months, invited me to go to Aruba with him in April. Very tempting. After all, why shouldn't I fly thousands of miles and spend $1,500 to enjoy a weekend with someone who couldn't find a few hours for me since August? The funniest thing is that -- without my having raised any question whatsoever about his motivations -- he started to assure me that he had no ulterior motives. By way of proof, he informed me that he already had a girlfriend of 2 months, who would (alas) not be on the trip on the advice of counsel. How could I have let this man go? He is truly incredible. I'd have to look a long time, methinks, to find another like him.
I saw a few episodes from Season 5 of Six Feet Under this week. It was really good (though very much soap opera). Between this and The Thin Blue Line, I've got some DVD borrowing/renting to do.
At a restaurant/bar called "Spitzers" in the LES, they only serve beer and wine. Did they think of calling themselves "spritzers" or are they fans of the current governor?
I saw a few episodes from Season 5 of Six Feet Under this week. It was really good (though very much soap opera). Between this and The Thin Blue Line, I've got some DVD borrowing/renting to do.
At a restaurant/bar called "Spitzers" in the LES, they only serve beer and wine. Did they think of calling themselves "spritzers" or are they fans of the current governor?
Self-Respect
This week, I've been playing hooky in certain respects. It feels good.
My favorite cashmere sweater is one that I have worn only a few times so far - light gray, with a black outline of a cartoon feline. Men seem very pleased with themselves when they correctly identify it as Hello Kitty. It's so cute. But then, guys are very often at their cutest when they do guy things. Like trying to make sense of women doing typical girl things.
I made some progress on cleaning my apartment - I diagnosed the problem with my vacuum cleaner (for the first time in 6 years, the bag needed to be changed), tracked down a dealer that actually sells bags for my idiosyncratic machine, and the rest is history. For some reason. I keep thinking of a phrase from a 1961 essay by Joan Didion, commenting on the ability to "assign unanswered letters their proper weight."
I discovered Joan Didion's essay "On Self-Respect" (published in the collection Slouching Towards Bethlehem) when I was in college. It immediately resonated with me, it had somehow the ring of truth:
My favorite cashmere sweater is one that I have worn only a few times so far - light gray, with a black outline of a cartoon feline. Men seem very pleased with themselves when they correctly identify it as Hello Kitty. It's so cute. But then, guys are very often at their cutest when they do guy things. Like trying to make sense of women doing typical girl things.
I made some progress on cleaning my apartment - I diagnosed the problem with my vacuum cleaner (for the first time in 6 years, the bag needed to be changed), tracked down a dealer that actually sells bags for my idiosyncratic machine, and the rest is history. For some reason. I keep thinking of a phrase from a 1961 essay by Joan Didion, commenting on the ability to "assign unanswered letters their proper weight."
I discovered Joan Didion's essay "On Self-Respect" (published in the collection Slouching Towards Bethlehem) when I was in college. It immediately resonated with me, it had somehow the ring of truth:
[T]o be driven back upon oneself is an uneasy affair at best, rather like trying to cross a border with borrowed credentials..... Most of our platitudes nothwithstanding, self-deception remains the most difficult deception. The tricks that work on others count for nothing in that very well-lit back alley where one keeps assignations with oneself.... One shuffles flashily but in vain through one's marked cards -- the kindness done for the wrong reason, the apparent triumph which involved no real effort, the apparently heroic act into which one had been shamed. ... To do without self-respect ... is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable documentary that details one's failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for every screening....Her thought is ultimately that self-respect involves "a certain discipline, the sense that one lives by doing things one does not particularly want to do, by putting fears and doubts to one side, by weighing immediate comforts against the possibility of larger, even intangible comforts."
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Next Ministries Service Projects
OK, I'll admit it. I always go in for the social events - skiing, brunch, the occasional happy hour or field trip - but rumor has it the "S" in FOCUS was originally for "service". So I went to a Habitat build and a Bowery Mission service last month.
The Habitat event was pretty fun, though I'm sure it would be a lot more efficient if the Habitat crew did it without our "help". They are so skilled, and so patient with us newbies (especially me). I learned to use a screw gun and a powered circular saw. I was pretty good with the saw right away, but the screw gun took a lot of getting used to, especially with the metal studs close to the ceiling. Half-built houses always bring me back to childhood (not that I'm ever that far away from it in the first place) and I love having the power to walk through walls:
The Bowery Mission service was also nice, especially once we got used to the institutional glare and to the distinctive smell. Claire, the head of our Next Ministries service group, read an opening prayer to the men in the chapel.
The men at the Bowery Mission really do "come as they are". Half the crowd (on the right side of the aisle) is just killing time while fulfilling the Bowery's prerequisite for a hot meal. The other half (on the left side of the aisle) consists of men who have accepted Jesus as their savior. They are there for the worship and the grace as well as the food. Laura Brenneman managed to bridge the gap between them with her music. The men were particularly moved by a bluesy/spiritual she sang about halfway through the service.
Russell, our seminarian, gave the sermon. The topic of the month was "Faith Moves Mountains". Russell faked us out at first by explaining that faith doesn't literally move mountains, which made me wonder if he might want to reconsider his career path. But he quickly moved on to make some good points - for instance, does God want us to ask Him to show off by literally moving mountains around, or zapping a podium from one side of the chapel to another? Of course not. We don't have any need for that (except as "proof" - and we're not supposed to put our God to the test). We have other mountains in our lives, metaphorical mountains that may be every bit as daunting as the Himalayas (especially if they are built grain by grain by a series of bad choices and even worse luck). These mountains can be moved, through faith, with God's help.
One man shared his testimony, which was heartfelt. Others clearly responded to God's call in other ways, or to the music. Two men came forward to help soothe another one who was trying to pick a fight. For a few moments, I could sense what it was like to be in their shoes.
Empathy works in mysterious ways. Today Rev. Dunn's voice caught, it seemed, as she read the list of those beloved of our congregation who have died in the past month - and I was not alone in feeling tears well up in response. We are moved by others' raw emotion, whether or not we know them; and also by the suffering of those we love, whether or not it is displayed for us.
The Habitat event was pretty fun, though I'm sure it would be a lot more efficient if the Habitat crew did it without our "help". They are so skilled, and so patient with us newbies (especially me). I learned to use a screw gun and a powered circular saw. I was pretty good with the saw right away, but the screw gun took a lot of getting used to, especially with the metal studs close to the ceiling. Half-built houses always bring me back to childhood (not that I'm ever that far away from it in the first place) and I love having the power to walk through walls:
The Bowery Mission service was also nice, especially once we got used to the institutional glare and to the distinctive smell. Claire, the head of our Next Ministries service group, read an opening prayer to the men in the chapel.
The men at the Bowery Mission really do "come as they are". Half the crowd (on the right side of the aisle) is just killing time while fulfilling the Bowery's prerequisite for a hot meal. The other half (on the left side of the aisle) consists of men who have accepted Jesus as their savior. They are there for the worship and the grace as well as the food. Laura Brenneman managed to bridge the gap between them with her music. The men were particularly moved by a bluesy/spiritual she sang about halfway through the service.
Russell, our seminarian, gave the sermon. The topic of the month was "Faith Moves Mountains". Russell faked us out at first by explaining that faith doesn't literally move mountains, which made me wonder if he might want to reconsider his career path. But he quickly moved on to make some good points - for instance, does God want us to ask Him to show off by literally moving mountains around, or zapping a podium from one side of the chapel to another? Of course not. We don't have any need for that (except as "proof" - and we're not supposed to put our God to the test). We have other mountains in our lives, metaphorical mountains that may be every bit as daunting as the Himalayas (especially if they are built grain by grain by a series of bad choices and even worse luck). These mountains can be moved, through faith, with God's help.
One man shared his testimony, which was heartfelt. Others clearly responded to God's call in other ways, or to the music. Two men came forward to help soothe another one who was trying to pick a fight. For a few moments, I could sense what it was like to be in their shoes.Empathy works in mysterious ways. Today Rev. Dunn's voice caught, it seemed, as she read the list of those beloved of our congregation who have died in the past month - and I was not alone in feeling tears well up in response. We are moved by others' raw emotion, whether or not we know them; and also by the suffering of those we love, whether or not it is displayed for us.
This Week
For no clear reason, an old schoolyard/summer-camp ditty came to mind earlier this week: Ta-rah-rah-BOOM-dee-ay, there is no SCHOOL today, our teacher PASSED away, we shot him YES-ter-day, we threw him IN the bay, he scared the SHARKS away, ta-rah-rah-BOOM-dee-ay, there is no SCHOOL today. Disturbing sentiments, to be sure. But the song was always delivered with gleeful anarchic abandon, and safely enough in the midwest, I suppose, where shark-infested bays are few and far between.
Children love stuff that's right on the edge of forbidden subjects. Come to think of it, I remember another song of that type, which I learned in Kampsville, IL: There was an old kotter who lived by the CRICK, he often watched boys playing their [pause] marbles in springtime and good times of YORE, along came a maiden who looked like a [pause] decent young maiden as she sat on the GRASS, when she rolled over you could see her [pause] bright yellow clothing, she looked like a DUCK, she said she was learning a new way to [pause] bring up her children to sew and to KNIT, while in the barnyard they shoveled the [pause] sweet violets, sweeter than all the roses, covered all over from head to toe, with sweet violets.
At age 10, I was not able to guess many of the "missing" words and thus missed most of the humor of it. (Ah, the frisson of hinting at forbidden words.) However, the missing words were provided to me and defined, thus enriching my vocabulary immeasurably.
This was a week for pushing boundaries in some ways. I took a Scottish dance class which triggered all my massive insecurities, but it was ultimately fun. Yesterday, my aquarium trip was canceled so I was able to take my favorite yoga class ... only to find we had a substitute teacher. Afterward, I went running and then went for dinner and a movie - finally, the U2 3D movie I'd been wanting to see for a while. It was good.
It's strange how little exposure I've had to smokers. I ran into a woman on the elevator the other day, when it was bitter cold, and she said she was not happy about going outside ... but (holding up her unlit cigarette) it was totally worth it.
The gospel of John small group is going well so far, although differently than I imagined. My co-leader and I had thought the group might end up mostly men (it was looking like a 4:3 split for a while). Ironically, it is all women. The guys never showed up; a real pity, as it's nice to have balance.
Children love stuff that's right on the edge of forbidden subjects. Come to think of it, I remember another song of that type, which I learned in Kampsville, IL: There was an old kotter who lived by the CRICK, he often watched boys playing their [pause] marbles in springtime and good times of YORE, along came a maiden who looked like a [pause] decent young maiden as she sat on the GRASS, when she rolled over you could see her [pause] bright yellow clothing, she looked like a DUCK, she said she was learning a new way to [pause] bring up her children to sew and to KNIT, while in the barnyard they shoveled the [pause] sweet violets, sweeter than all the roses, covered all over from head to toe, with sweet violets.
At age 10, I was not able to guess many of the "missing" words and thus missed most of the humor of it. (Ah, the frisson of hinting at forbidden words.) However, the missing words were provided to me and defined, thus enriching my vocabulary immeasurably.
This was a week for pushing boundaries in some ways. I took a Scottish dance class which triggered all my massive insecurities, but it was ultimately fun. Yesterday, my aquarium trip was canceled so I was able to take my favorite yoga class ... only to find we had a substitute teacher. Afterward, I went running and then went for dinner and a movie - finally, the U2 3D movie I'd been wanting to see for a while. It was good.
It's strange how little exposure I've had to smokers. I ran into a woman on the elevator the other day, when it was bitter cold, and she said she was not happy about going outside ... but (holding up her unlit cigarette) it was totally worth it.
The gospel of John small group is going well so far, although differently than I imagined. My co-leader and I had thought the group might end up mostly men (it was looking like a 4:3 split for a while). Ironically, it is all women. The guys never showed up; a real pity, as it's nice to have balance.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Florida
This Lenten blogging slowdown has been tough for me. And meanwhile the underlying changes I am trying to make in my life are the ones I need most -- you can tell because I resist them so strongly.
I had a lovely time in Florida, with ample rollerblading and niece time. I feel so incredibly protective of my elder niece, even as she is showing signs of stubborn independence. And I just melt whenever she graces me with her smile. She pushes herself so hard at swimming, even though she lacks the strength to hold her own in the water. Her heart pounds furiously from the effort when you catch her to help her breathe en route. I'm so proud of her and so painfully aware of how small and weak she is, how very vulnerable. ("When I hold your small body next to mine,/ I feel weak and strong at the same time./ So few years to give you wings to fly,/ To show you the stars to guide your ship by." J. Clegg & Savuka.)
My younger niece is growing on me (literally) and it is so exciting to hear her on the verge of speech. You can occasionally make out a "thank you", and she has a penetrating stare that suggests either she is trying very hard to read one's expression, or she is trying very hard to communicate something telepathically. She has her own beauty, and an infectious smile. I'm so curious to meet her once she is able to express herself in words.
At work, things are getting better - we've filled the two open positions, and we should be up and running within two weeks. Not that things stopped in the mean time.
My heart is still heavy from time to time, and I can't help thinking I could have made more hay while the sun shone today (so to speak), but instead, I attended 3 worship services (?!) and uploaded my Florida pictures. Three services on a Sunday is a bit excessive and I certainly won't make a habit of it, but each one had its separate draw, so I was glad, on balance, that I went.
For anyone who saw an earlier version of this post, I haven't put in any new pictures -- I just put in introductions to some of them.
The first night, we had a big storm. Grammie kept referring to it as a "show" (which is sort of what it looks like in this picture) so that L would not be scared. Then the next day, L kept referring to "the movie last night" and her mom was completely perplexed.
Dozens of lobster traps were washed up on shore after the storm. I liked this lobster trap triptych:
L playing dress-up and trying twirly dance moves in her new Valentine's Day skirt:
L swims:
Sunset over the wildlife refuge:
A New York City scene, but it seems really in place here:
Being carried... it's easier than a walk on the beach.
There's a whole world out there!
"Chipmunk cheeks" is how you learn to hold your breath at age 3 1/2:
I think I've seen this expression on the faces of Olympic medalist swimmers:
L found an old boogie board and tried to slide around on it in 1 inch of water. This game was not very effective from a surfing point of view, but it was very safe because the board immediately sinks an inch under the lightest child's weight:
At the wildlife refuge, we saw a few dolphins, and many birds. There were two lonely pairs of birds. In the case of the two reddish egrets, who were about 10 feet apart on the mangrove sandbar, the male was interested, but the female was not. Our guide commented that there were so few reddish egrets she really shouldn't be so picky.
We also saw two ospreys. The female osprey is shown on the nest here; male was perched about 25 feet away on a mangrove thicket and was either trying to work up the nerve to approach her or possibly waiting for her to notice him. Our guide said that the female osprey's original mate died, so she is a free agent, but the male is much younger and may not be sure of his ability to provide the 700 lbs. of fish that will be needed to feed any offspring that might result from the union.
Walking on the beach is a tough job, but it's doable with the right tools.
The latest fashion: hats.
Walking the plank:
At the Hungry Heron, C enjoys drawing with crayons, but there's something way more interesting at that table over there:
Corn on the cob from someone else's plate beats a pb&j sandwich on your own plate any day of the week:
Another lovely sunscape with palm trees.
A woodpecker at the local nature preserve:
Tri-color heron:
Beach toys:
C with fork:
Grammie:
LC:
Group shot with alligator puppets:
I had a lovely time in Florida, with ample rollerblading and niece time. I feel so incredibly protective of my elder niece, even as she is showing signs of stubborn independence. And I just melt whenever she graces me with her smile. She pushes herself so hard at swimming, even though she lacks the strength to hold her own in the water. Her heart pounds furiously from the effort when you catch her to help her breathe en route. I'm so proud of her and so painfully aware of how small and weak she is, how very vulnerable. ("When I hold your small body next to mine,/ I feel weak and strong at the same time./ So few years to give you wings to fly,/ To show you the stars to guide your ship by." J. Clegg & Savuka.)
My younger niece is growing on me (literally) and it is so exciting to hear her on the verge of speech. You can occasionally make out a "thank you", and she has a penetrating stare that suggests either she is trying very hard to read one's expression, or she is trying very hard to communicate something telepathically. She has her own beauty, and an infectious smile. I'm so curious to meet her once she is able to express herself in words.
At work, things are getting better - we've filled the two open positions, and we should be up and running within two weeks. Not that things stopped in the mean time.
My heart is still heavy from time to time, and I can't help thinking I could have made more hay while the sun shone today (so to speak), but instead, I attended 3 worship services (?!) and uploaded my Florida pictures. Three services on a Sunday is a bit excessive and I certainly won't make a habit of it, but each one had its separate draw, so I was glad, on balance, that I went.
For anyone who saw an earlier version of this post, I haven't put in any new pictures -- I just put in introductions to some of them.
The first night, we had a big storm. Grammie kept referring to it as a "show" (which is sort of what it looks like in this picture) so that L would not be scared. Then the next day, L kept referring to "the movie last night" and her mom was completely perplexed.
Dozens of lobster traps were washed up on shore after the storm. I liked this lobster trap triptych:
L playing dress-up and trying twirly dance moves in her new Valentine's Day skirt:
L swims:
Sunset over the wildlife refuge:
A New York City scene, but it seems really in place here:
Being carried... it's easier than a walk on the beach.
There's a whole world out there!
"Chipmunk cheeks" is how you learn to hold your breath at age 3 1/2:
I think I've seen this expression on the faces of Olympic medalist swimmers:
L found an old boogie board and tried to slide around on it in 1 inch of water. This game was not very effective from a surfing point of view, but it was very safe because the board immediately sinks an inch under the lightest child's weight:
At the wildlife refuge, we saw a few dolphins, and many birds. There were two lonely pairs of birds. In the case of the two reddish egrets, who were about 10 feet apart on the mangrove sandbar, the male was interested, but the female was not. Our guide commented that there were so few reddish egrets she really shouldn't be so picky.
We also saw two ospreys. The female osprey is shown on the nest here; male was perched about 25 feet away on a mangrove thicket and was either trying to work up the nerve to approach her or possibly waiting for her to notice him. Our guide said that the female osprey's original mate died, so she is a free agent, but the male is much younger and may not be sure of his ability to provide the 700 lbs. of fish that will be needed to feed any offspring that might result from the union.
Walking on the beach is a tough job, but it's doable with the right tools.
The latest fashion: hats.
Walking the plank:
At the Hungry Heron, C enjoys drawing with crayons, but there's something way more interesting at that table over there:
Corn on the cob from someone else's plate beats a pb&j sandwich on your own plate any day of the week:
Another lovely sunscape with palm trees.
A woodpecker at the local nature preserve:
Tri-color heron:
Beach toys:
C with fork:
Grammie:
LC:
Group shot with alligator puppets:
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Binary Valentine 1101
I love my love with an "M" because he's a maven.
I hate my love with an "M" because he's myopic.
My love's name is Michael,
He lives in the metropolitan area,
And I gave him a mission.
There are two guys I've liked much more than reason dictated - guys I immediately liked before I even knew their name, and liked out of all proportion to how well we ever knew each other.
One of them was N (as always, not his real name). When we first exchanged glances, and he smiled, I thought "He looks like a guy I'd be willing to marry." A strange reaction indeed, and one I've never had before (or since). N asked me once if I believed in love at first sight. I simply said No, and that was the end of that discussion.
I hate my love with an "M" because he's myopic.
My love's name is Michael,
He lives in the metropolitan area,
And I gave him a mission.
There are two guys I've liked much more than reason dictated - guys I immediately liked before I even knew their name, and liked out of all proportion to how well we ever knew each other.
One of them was N (as always, not his real name). When we first exchanged glances, and he smiled, I thought "He looks like a guy I'd be willing to marry." A strange reaction indeed, and one I've never had before (or since). N asked me once if I believed in love at first sight. I simply said No, and that was the end of that discussion.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
FOCUS Ski Trip
It was a fun trip, but I don't have a lot of time left today, so I just chose a few pictures from our 8-hour journey home from Killington:
T
T
Friday, February 08, 2008
Binary Valentine 1000
I love my love with an "H" because he is honorable.
I hate my love with an "H" because he is a heathen.
My love's name is Holden,
He lives at home,
And I gave him heartburn.
I hate my love with an "H" because he is a heathen.
My love's name is Holden,
He lives at home,
And I gave him heartburn.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Referendum on a Referendum
There something about losing all of your direct reports in one fell swoop. It makes you feel like there's been a referendum on your managerial skills (or even worse, your personality or worth as a human being or whatever). That's why it's been so tough to lose A and B in quick succession. Intellectually, I know that it isn't really about me. A had been looking for a new job for about 10 months; my boss and I did our best to keep her. We lobbied hard to get her a promotion and raise, and pulled some strings to find her new opportunities within the organization (even ones where she would not be working with us), but she decided to go elsewhere anyway. B was snatched away from us by someone in senior management (she wasn't even looking for the opportunity). So my feeling isn't entirely rational. But it is real, and it has been dragging me down. It was so helpful to express this dark fear out loud to two of my colleagues today, to bring it out into the light and make light of it.
Today I also spoke with my boss about several topics that have been bothering me, including the patterns I've seen in recent appointments, and the conflicts - both direct and subtle - that I foresee as a result. I expressed my feelings about these and other matters professionally and diplomatically, of course, but it's oddly liberating - after so many years completely shut down at The Firm - to articulate emotions in the workplace. What next?
X called today. I didn't think he would. At our last date, which I figured would be our final date, he was kidding (I hope) about how maybe he could marry me for my health insurance. Then later he was suggesting he would be a great catch based on his number of real estate holdings. Our values are so different in so many areas, how could he possibly imagine we might be a match? Then again, I tend to avoid controversy by keeping my mouth shut, which may allow him to imaginatively fill in the gaps and assume whatever he wants to assume. Lacunae are really my bad habit; most people have this incredibly strong motivation to fill the gaps, and they don't even realize they're doing it, and they're almost always wrong. With respect to X, avoiding avoidance of controversy will probably get him to a place where he sees the incompatibilities that I see. So it will actually make things a lot easier for me to court controversy in this case. How strange. I think this will be a very interesting Lenten season.
Y is off to Florida today, so he and I will trade Florida stories when I get back week after next.
Lent starts on Ash Wednesday (tomorrow) and ends on Holy Saturday (March 22 this year), excepting Sundays. So expect perhaps as many as six Sunday postings (they may also be sundae postings, who knows) over the course of the next six weeks, and otherwise see you at Easter.
Today I also spoke with my boss about several topics that have been bothering me, including the patterns I've seen in recent appointments, and the conflicts - both direct and subtle - that I foresee as a result. I expressed my feelings about these and other matters professionally and diplomatically, of course, but it's oddly liberating - after so many years completely shut down at The Firm - to articulate emotions in the workplace. What next?
X called today. I didn't think he would. At our last date, which I figured would be our final date, he was kidding (I hope) about how maybe he could marry me for my health insurance. Then later he was suggesting he would be a great catch based on his number of real estate holdings. Our values are so different in so many areas, how could he possibly imagine we might be a match? Then again, I tend to avoid controversy by keeping my mouth shut, which may allow him to imaginatively fill in the gaps and assume whatever he wants to assume. Lacunae are really my bad habit; most people have this incredibly strong motivation to fill the gaps, and they don't even realize they're doing it, and they're almost always wrong. With respect to X, avoiding avoidance of controversy will probably get him to a place where he sees the incompatibilities that I see. So it will actually make things a lot easier for me to court controversy in this case. How strange. I think this will be a very interesting Lenten season.
Y is off to Florida today, so he and I will trade Florida stories when I get back week after next.
Lent starts on Ash Wednesday (tomorrow) and ends on Holy Saturday (March 22 this year), excepting Sundays. So expect perhaps as many as six Sunday postings (they may also be sundae postings, who knows) over the course of the next six weeks, and otherwise see you at Easter.
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