It’s gray today, but there are flowers everywhere. Daffodils by the walkway, periwinkle all along the the old foundations by the lake. The birds are also everywhere. The woods were filled with the sound of a woodpecker drumming on a tree while we were on our run today. Yesterday robins covered the yard, heads cocked, hopping along almost in unison.

I didn’t manage to read anything online this week to recommend. Not that I’ve read nothing worth recommending, but I’ve not had time for personal reading beyond a half hour or so at bed time (Zone One, Colson Whitehead). As a result, no new stories.

But as a little something, how about an old ghost story? I love ghost stories, at least those with a certain feel, and “The Upper Berth” by F. Marion Crawford fits the bill. One of the great things about having kids who like books is the way they can help you re-experience the thrill of stories you read long ago. “The Upper Berth” works well when you’re all snuggled together on the couch and can enjoy the sensation of being more than a little creeped out.