Today we went upstate and picked raspberries. Of course, I prefer blueberries. But the air was so crisp, the grass so green, and the leaves were just beginning to turn. What a wonderful way to spend a Monday!

Sunday wasn't so wonderful. We played billiards (I lost), then watched a squash match. It was dreadfully boring. I abhor squash.

But Saturday's pheasant dinner was sublime, delightful. It was a shame about the chap who got the bone stuck in his throat, but the ambulance arrived in minutes, and I'm sure he's all right.

And, although it was more than mildly revolting, I must confess I could barely contain my amusement when our host went into convulsions, began spitting up blood, and then exploded, caking the walls as well as our clothing with half-digested food and internal organs.

All in all, it was a superb and recuperative three-day weekend. But tomorrow, it's back to the grindstone.

Lyrics submitted by Eamon

Columbus Day Weekend song meanings
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