This weekend, I'm getting together with my dear friend Leslie, and we are going to work on a book based on a card game she created to help kids learn how to organize. I agreed to help, if only for the delicious irony of having my name on a book about organizing. In addition, I'm taking my niece to the casino to see the women's basketball team, The Sun, play. (Thanks to Fridge and Toast)
Saturday afternoon, the whole clan is going to the Greater Hartford Irish Music Festival at the Irish American Home Society (where I spent every Sunday of my childhood - Sundays meant Mass (zzzzz), tablespoon of cod liver oil (ewwwww), the Colchester bakery (rye bread, hard rolls, maybe doughnuts), big Irish breakfast (Irish sausage, blood pudding, eggs, heart attack optional), and then the IAHS, or as we called it, The Club) in Glastonbury, CT. We go pretty much every year, and this year, I'm looking forward to it not just for the music, but because Ned Lamont is going to be there. I'm sure a great many people who look vaguely familiar will stop me to ask if I'm Billy Howley's daughter, and I will have to try and remember who they are, since they've known me since I was a baby.
And Sunday, I have nothing planned.