One More Thing. . . .

This is one of those days that is being nibbled to death by ducks. I need to be practicing a couple of sets that I'm to play for the SGV Burns Ball this Saturday, i.e., the day after tomorrow, the marketing needs to be done if we're to have anything in the house for the supper this evening, bills need to be paid and the desk, and, indeed, the office itself (the hub and command post of The Inn at the End of the World) need to be cleared up in order to find the herein above referenced bills, and a couple of other things which I need to look up on my To Do List before I can list them here.

Instead, I have spent the morning with a wonderful biography of George S. Kaufman to the tune of about 70 pages in. We're already up to meetings of the Algonquin Round Table. Perfect timing. I detest biographies that spend inordinate amounts of time on the grammar school years of someone who wasn't actually interesting until he was 35.

Today is the feast of St Ita who was Irish but who appears to have had more churches named after her in Cornwall than in Ireland.

Off to the market.