Spring again. The city cycling through its seasons and us cycling through ours.
James and Nora were two and a half and had developed a comprehensive verbal capacity that they deployed without restraint. James's first long sentence was: Daddy, that's my block, put it down. Nora's first long sentence was: Mummy, I need the book with the rabbit and the rain, it's important.
The clarity of their priorities was something I admired.
I was on the phone with Catherine one afternoon, our regular Thursday call, when she said something that surprised me.
"I've been thinking about coming to New York," she said.
I stopped.
"How long has that been in your mind?" I asked.
"Several months," she said. "I'm not getting younger. Eloise is not getting younger. We've been writing and calling for over a
