Spring’s polite sprinkles are over. What arrives now are proper thunderstorms — and still the flowers bloom on, stubbornly indifferent to the change in mood.


Between the Lines moves between the political and the personal, the historical and the immediate—food, art, travel, and the long view. If that sounds wide, it is. The world is wide.
Pull up a chair.
Occasional reflections on what I see, read, and try to understand
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