I got back from New York Saturday afternoon. Judy’s in Florida visiting her mother, so I’m alone here in the house. I spent the early part of Sunday washing clothes, putting my stuff away, shopping for groceries. Judy had received an invitation to what was being called a “sneak preview” of a restaurant and bar that’s opening in the neighborhood in a few days. I decided to go in her place. The bar area was packed with people all worked up over the New York Giants-San Francisco 49ers playoff game, which was on the TV. I left the restaurant before there was any score and spent the evening relaxing—mostly in bed—reading a book. Outside it was raining, and the streets were quiet—a pleasant respite from the hustle of New York. A little before going to bed it occurred to me: Oh, they must have lost.
Back from New York
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