As I type this there is a ping pong tournament going on, in our dining room, on the dining room table. Marc got a ping pong kit that can adapt to any table and it seems to be a big hit. Archie is a fan already and is proudly marching around with two ping pong balls in his mouth. Today I made something seasonal for the front door. Mr. Finkles thinks it is ridiculous and finds it undignified. The kids were much more enthusiastic. A dear relative, who shall remain anonymous, (I wouldn’t want any thug leprechauns to show up on her doorstep), hates St. Patrick’s Day.  When I was in her company on our trip to CT, she mentioned twice that she hates this holiday, I kept my feelings to myself. I mean, if someone were to offer me a pot of gold, I’d take it, as far as good luck, bring it on and come on a holiday that celebrates red-heads, need I say more. As I type Marc is enjoying his birthday surprise. I had booked a massage for him and to have the massage practitioner make a house call. We set up a serene space in our cellar. Happy Birthday Marc, let’s hope you feel like a new man!

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