1. I'm hoping that the small pork roast I took out today, covered with a Thai rub, poked slits in with a paring knife, and marinated in my recent green curry will braise well on Wednesday. I'm looking forward to the results of this experiment.
2. I finished The Yellow House today and admired that much like the subject matter of the book itself, Sarah M. Broom's memoir did not draw to a tidy close, suggesting that the impact of living in New Orleans East and of Hurricane Katrina is ongoing, never reaches a neat conclusion.
3. I poured myself a small drink, what I'll call a "limeless margarita", by combining Cointreau and 1800 tequila over a little ice and tuned in to tonight's Tree House Concert. Bill took us back to some of his early songs, including the great, "Mornings", and read beautifully from the poetry of Robert Bly and introduced us to an old Arabic and Islamic form of poetry called the ghazal (pronounced "guzzle").
The concert ended just as the nail-biting game between Villanova and Seton Hall was drawing to a close, so I got to see the Wildcats, after a 27 day Covid pause, squeak out a 76-74 win.
Win.
Win.
Here's a limerick by Stu:
There’s moping by some, others cheer.
But regardless of view,
Your future’s all up to you.
Let’s learn from mistakes in our rear.
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