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We spent my birthday today at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. We don't get in  as often as I'd like, and have a knack for missing the exhibitions that we want to see (ok, we are DEFINITELY going to the Botticelli exhibit when it comes -- you heard me say it), and it never lives up to the standards set for me by the Art Institute of Chicago but nonetheless it was an ideal little birthday outing.

 The MFA has gotten a lot less stodgy over the years; while at one time I can imagine that they *might* have gone for this installation at holiday time, they never would have made it permanent as it now is.

 Roasted cauliflower soup and why yes, a glass of champagne, for lunch -- restorative and festive.

Robert McCloskey's art is a sacred part of nearly every New England childhood -- so, not books I grew up with but absolutely ones that we read over and over and over again to Dean; the gallery full of his work was wonderful and the most bestest way to end our visit.

A photo a day over at Chicken Blog, too.