Sunday in the Park

Jack gets us chocolate and cinnamon brioche and the New York Times for breakfast.

Today, it's the Frick that is free. Again, full of old friends. But what a collection. Stately home, New York around 1915, that just happens to be full of Holbein's, Rembrants, Whistlers and Goyers. I slug round with the audio tape; Jack sketches in the main courtyard; Courtney retreats to the park with her book.

It's another lovely day lying on the grass. It's also Israel day and the road is cut off for an endless parade of flag waving and floats. I'm reading From Beirut to Jerusalem at the moment. There are so many reasons that this kind of parade would not happen in the UK. . .