Was it Tristram Shandy who found out that he could not both live his life and record it in his journal? I am feeling that fact today, coming home later yesterday from a few days away, and leaving again on Monday for a few more.
I should tell you about going to Die tode Stadt, seeing Gustav Klimpt, riding the Acela, walking the Upper West Side and Boston’s Back Bay. Some of you may know about these things, but others might enjoy it. I cannot tell you the pleasure of seeing old friends, but the privacy of that experience you all know as well as I.
In a few moments I have to perform a wedding, including attending the reception this time. It will be mid evening before we get home. The morning will be a mad rush to prepare for all that must happen. Maybe by 5 all will be back to the merely mad.
Somewhere in this I have to figure out how to start my furnace (it was stopped to make a steam pipe repair), get my roof replaced and do other homeowner stuff.
L’shana tovah, but may it be a little less wild and woolly than it started.