Well I have received post from the Ireland troubadours, and you'll be happy to know, they are doing splendidly, of course. Everyone who thought their plowing and picking would tire them to the point of misery, and my father, who laughed at their hopes as he called them indentured servants, they were all wrong. It is enough for them just to be on the Emerald Isle, with the green green grass and the mountains, with anyone but Americans, and as a bonus, they get to have tea time at least twice a day.
Sam and I are hoping to see the great King Tut today. He's decided to make a visit to Atlanta for this, his 3,350th winter and spring. I was hoping maybe we would spot him sipping in the window of a coffee shop or perhaps at the batting cages, swinging gleefully, but it is looking as though he is only receiving spectators at the museum, of all places, and for $15 a viewing. It seems a bit self-important if you ask me.
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