1. Since it looks as if the last frost danger might be behind us, I stopped at Western Garden yesterday and got some heirloom tomato starts and some non-toxic methods of snail control. Then I was nearly overwhelmed by my own smugness–good thing I wasn’t driving a Prius.
1a. I am riding my bike to work today, though.
2. It was Irving Berlin‘s birthday this week, and the Writer’s Almanac told us this about him:
He came to New York City with his family when he was five, and when he was eight his father died. That was the end of his formal education. He never learned to read or write music, and he never learned to play in any key but F sharp.
Incredible! This is the man who wrote just about every showtune I know (other than the score of The Music Man).