I love the routine of Sunday morning. Coffee, knitting, public radio. I love a Sunday morning that runs according to schedule and the ritual is not complete without a lazy flip through The New York Times. Nearly every Sunday I walk over to the bodega to get a copy. A decadent little treat I look forward to all week. But, there are days when the ritual is preempted by the occasional brunch or inclement weather. It’s hot, muggy and pouring rain this morning. It’s gross, I have the air on and I’m pretty content pretending it’s Fall. I’m afraid that even the Sunday Style Section can’t coax the needles out of my hands long enough to run to the store. Besides, once I’m outside, the illusion will be ruined. Nope. I’m staying in for now. I’ll have to make do with an online read. Which is fine, but not the same. If it were, I probably wouldn’t be so drawn to this.