Chicago feels wonderful today. The sun is out, the wind is still timid and except for turning the corner onto Oak Street, it hardly appeared as anything more than a breeze. The lake is calm and the Bears are malling the Rams. The family mass at Old St. Pat's was full of joy. An eight-year old boy did the first reading and did such a great job that people probably wanted to clap when he finished. There was a tiny baby with a smile, giggle and serious peek-a-boo skills who easily upstaged the priest, drawing the attention of everyone within a few pews and holding it throughout the service.
I'm sad to leave the city but I arrived yesterday, knowing that the reason for this trip was to catch a plane to another one, Paris.