going to Wave Hill to see the flowers in early blossom (magnolias! spring snowflakes!) and then driving to Arthur Avenue for Italian sandwiches, arancini, and affogato. Bedside table heaving with new books to thumb through including but not limited to As They Were by M.F.K. Fisher, After Many a Summer Dies the Swan by Aldous Huxley, and Alexander Lieberman's The Artist in His Studio (a title that would not fly today).
And what are your plans, dear swans and kittens?