Greetings from the National Mall

Sunday was Paul's and my 28th wedding anniversary, though we agreed really not to celebrate it till we're in Seattle because so much shit has hit the fan near home. So we didn't exchange anniversary presents unless you count getting tickets for Dave and Mary Chapin Carpenter, and we had a nice day downtown with Cheryl at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival, which is focused on Armenia and Catalonia this year and had lots of fantastic exhibits, though since it was 100 degrees, we eventually got overheated enough to go to the National Gallery of Art to see the Cezanne portraits and Water, Wind, and Waves: Marine Paintings from the Dutch Golden Age.











We went to Tara Thai for dinner, I showed Cheryl the episode of Last Week Tonight about how Russell Crowe named a koala chlamydia ward at Terri Irwin's zoo after John Oliver, then she went home and Paul and I watched Endeavour, then this week's Last Week Tonight, followed by Succession which is like Billions meets King Lear written by George Romero channeling Edward Albee. In other words, it makes the murderers on Endeavour look like nice people. I miss Westworld already!