It was a day of light rain that turned highly energetic after sundown. At a guess. Driving back from Raleigh, close to midnight, it was squint and slow down as the windshield wipers kept trying to keep up with the ferocious rhythms of rain.

But oh, my sibs, what a purely loverly evening I had at the Hibernian Irish Pub, sitting with Abbey Sale, our own renowned expert on old ballads both clean and soiled, and half a dozen other rare birds taking turns bringing old songs back to life. Good, sturdy, rollicking ones, plaintive ones, tragic ones, jolly ones. Two Guinesses later, the soul was replete with the joy of these brave voices restoring the glow of life to these pale shadows from long ago. Really, truly, Abby and his gang are gems in the wilderness. Amos is happy.