For years I’ve had an established Easter routine. I eat hot, hard-boiled eggs for brunch (a family tradition), and I read “Sunday Morning” by Wallace Stevens. Pretty simple. This year, for some unexplained reason, I decided to have my family over for dinner. I’m not sure if everyone will fit in my house. I’m not sure how much food to prepare. The only thing I am sure of is that I’m crazy. As long as no one goes hungry, I guess we’ll be fine.

BTW, I had a two-hour massage yesterday. Heavenly. The massage therapist I go to does a wonderful job on my hands and wrists for carpel tunnel. If you have a similar problem, consider massage as an alternative to surgery.