The cruelest month, etc.

April lived up to its nickname while on its way out this week — last week’s sunny skies and perfect temperatures were replaced by cold, wind, rain and even snow. The heat is back on to keep from dying of the damp, and all those muscles I built climbing hills last week are atrophying; I may have to ride the garage today just to keep from wasting away entirely. So it goes.

For reasons that are certainly not apparent to me, I’ve been immersing myself in French history, trying desperately to learn which Louis was which, what kind of revolution leads to even more kings and emperors, and how one gets to just name oneself “emperor” anyway. Alistair Horne’s books, “La Belle France” and “Seven Ages of Paris” are both good, yet highly similar, since the stories of Paris and France are none too separate.

And because it’s on the ninth-grade curriculum, we watched “To Kill a Mockingbird,” which portrays true grace and dignity like no other film, and which of course still brings tears at just about any point in the movie.