I’m rushing off to Sunday number one, for some reason on Saturday. A rare double performance dictated by Sanskrit or some other written or unwritten source beyond my limited ability to comprehend anything much, and less,for certain, than I did when I was a teenager. 

      Counter Intelligence, double dose. I’ve not time to dawdle, or peck away here, as duty calls. I don’t have to drive even. 

       Saint MAHI is past go, and spring is here. Late and wet, with pale berries yet, but here. We, and I are over the hump of February, as this rare double Sunday weekend’s first take begins.  A national emergency?  A double Sunday is a never yet event. Less than rare. 

        We shall see. 

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