The other part of Boston trails me. It's a very Irish day here. A morning for wearing brai
ded hair, yard work, golf practice, and listening to the Once soundtrack. Then being shut in by persistent, dark rain to drink tea and read an Irish novel full of more rain, an asylum, religious wars, priests and secrets. I'll grant you that I can pass for Irish since I'm Scottish and English. But I had a lot more fun pretending to be Italian.

No comments:
Post a Comment