Listening to “Anna” by Antje Duvekot as the rain falls outside. I can feel myself slipping into the sadness that comes with things that remind me of my father not as he Lived but rather as he died. Like shaving, my grey hair and thinking he never heard us with cello – but I’m not going to change the song. Not just yet.
I’ll let it switch over to Dan Blakeslee and think about times past – knowing that the rain’s a GOOD thing. It pushes plants up and pushes bands indoors – when they didn’t want to play outside in any case. Dan croons and all I want to do is curl up under the covers and go back to bed and strum strings till I slip back into sleep.
The lair takes form… 
