IN THE TORONTO AIRPORT on our way to Lisbon...  Here's what I'm thinking:

Down the road in the USA in New York State Margaret and I lived for awhile when I was headmaster of The Darrow School.  The time is 8:45 p.m... almost July here and there is rain... a slow, cold, drizzle that breaks out into real rain every now and then, something we don't see often in San Diego.  I'm wondering about the escaped bad man in the New York forest huddled among trees and rocks hoping not to be found, or perhaps hoping he will be spotted soon and it will all be over soon. His partner is dead already.

Asi es la vida.