It’s uncanny, this place I go. The stone exterior and the big, rustic beams inside. Real beams, not decorative. WPA-era stuff. The burgundy carpet and the pine panel walls, the buffalo head above the fireplace. The soundtrack. 100% vintage jazz. Deano and Mel, Julie and Peggy and Satch. I’d be satisfied to sit in the […]
A text sent this morning reads as follows: “At the usual place with the usual coffee and the usual muffin.” Not complaining, you understand, but rejoicing (quietly) in the continuity of familiar things. Acadia’s enthusiasm for well-worn paths is contagious, I’ve noticed, as when it’s time for her to drink from the bathroom faucet (during my showers), […]
