Holiday

Ah, federal holidays--I'm off today and I'm going to Pennsylvania to visit my sister and other relatives and meeet my future brother in law. Miss S is going to meet me there tomorrow. The last time I saw her I was on my front porch waving goodbye after my last night out in New Orleans.

People have pretty much forgotten all about Katrina here, except for us uprooted wanderers.

I like DC. Some days I like it more than others. One day this week, my commuter train was stopped in Alexandria so that a bomb-sniffing dog could smell us all. (It was a yellow lab--why can't Hank do something useful like that?) (Actually, I miss big ole Hank and petite Miss P something terrible.)

I went to venerate the sacred documents at the National Archives, and on the way out "Mardi Gras Mambo" as done by (I think) Los Hombres Calientes, was playing in the gift shop. Odd.

I've made three short visits to the National Gallery but I haven't seen it all. I'm not that sophisticated about art, anyway. I'm interested in it but not sure what one is supposed to think when looking at, say, the only Da Vinci in North America, or what sense it makes to look at a Warhol soup can in the same afternoon. But I keep going back.

MM did send me a crate of Mallo Cups, which pleased me very much. Things are some significant hopeful signs in his life, but I don't want to write about it for fear of jinxing it, plus maybe it's not my business to write about anyway. But I'm tentatively very happy for him.