Sometimes one can troll the 'Net for weeks and find nothing original or of interest, and some days you hit pay dirt. This was one of those days. I found the post below so interesting. Proust and Football. Who would have thunk it?
If you don't read anything else today, read this:
Regretfully, my own Proust reading has hit a bad spell, what with helping someone in the household recover from surgery, etc. I am doing his chores, my chores, and a whole passel of extra chores. The good part is I've lost 3 pounds, running around and esp. up the stairs 30 times a day. Who knew?
Spring cometh to Foxborough and the goldfinches are on the feeder and they are even gold, not winter drab. The spring peepers began their sweet but noisy chorus last night. We had a damp warm day yesterday, and the suet and thistle seed I put out (his chore) found favor with the flocks.
Until next week, Marcel,