I come downstairs. Voices in the kitchen. A man with a German accent is discussing intellectual property. I recognize one of the lawyer’s voices and think yet again about how much I love it. K is not muted. Dare I clank some ice into a glass? A loud bird is squawking at regular intervals. To my mind, as good a contribution as any. It’s hilarious, actually.
Here is a side by side of my father’s father, Francis Mallon, and Son #2. What do you think?
Closing with celestial images from the walls upstairs.
Texas friends: hang in there! Here in New England, we count the days ’til spring. Less than a month, now.