Did you ever get the feeling something about your day just wasn't right?

You know what I mean: You think you've forgotten to run an errand or you haven't put out the trash or you've neglected to buy a birthday card for your wife?

That's what I experienced Sunday.

Something was missing and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

I was up early, picked up the newspapers, drove with my wife to Kingston for an 8:50 tee-time, played 18 holes of golf (poorly), ate lunch, returned home, read the papers, watched the Yankees, talked to (and saw) my son, David, and granddaughter, Elizabeth, via Web-cam in Connecticut, made myself a sandwich, searched (unsuccessfully) for a good movie on the satellite, talked by phone to my son, Matt, and his fiance, Jessica, on Cape Cod, and called it a night by 9:30.

Yet, the day just wasn't right. It unlike most and I couldn't remember why.

And then I did!

It didn't rain on Sunday.

No dark clouds. No thunder. No lightning. No torrential downpowers. Not even a sprinkle.

Imagine that. A perfect summer's day in the Hudson Valley.

And they said it couldn't happen!