My friend Joe, a high school English teacher, was invited this year to join a fantasy football league. He named his team the Oxford Commas.
Someone I don’t know sent a job listing he thought would be of interest to me. It was for a commercial construction supervisor at a construction company in town. I was puzzled until I looked closer at the description and read the words: “Travel required.”
Summer in Florida always makes me think: What other Americans experience, daily, such meteorological diversity? Or enjoy, in a year, large amounts of rainfall and hardly a day without sunshine?
I used to have a theory that no good mail ever arrived on a Saturday. It’s been revised to: No good emails ever come on a Friday.
I find fado genuine and moving, while flamenco strikes me as theatrically over-the-top. Perhaps it’s the polka dots.
The sound of harps filled our bedroom in midafternoon. I hit the snooze button and turned to Hania, who was reluctantly opening her eyes. “Some weekend,” she said, “we should take an ‘all-you-can-sleep’ nap.”