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[sovay]

The snow and the twilight have turned the air as cloudy blue as seaglass, so that trees, telephone poles, houses with yellow-lit windows, fade off much more quickly into the dusk as into fog. I shoveled the front walk and the driveway twice in the same hour and they don't look it. Three days ago, I walked into Harvard Square under such warmth of the sun that I was carrying my jacket over my arm before I'd gotten ten feet from the subway, thinking that any day now I could sing "Wild Mountain Thyme." This ghost-blue storm is midwinter, not less than a week from spring. I baked apples for dessert; I'm translating Greek lyric. Right now, I can live with this.

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[ap-aelfwine.livejournal.com]

I don't think you absolutely need a seasonal excuse to sing "Wild Mountain Thyme." ;-)

I keep singing "The Errant Apprentice," though I amn't from Derry, never had a girlfriend convince me she'd marry me if I only joined the army first and then marry a Turkish gentleman in my absence, etc.

Off to play a country club gig in Old Lyme, in an hour or so--am in Willoughby's in Grove Street the now. I expect WMT will be requested--am grateful the fellow I'm playing with knows it, as I don't really myself, beyond the burthen of it, though I have to admit I'd be as pleased to have yourself there to sing it instead.

I'll try to get tEA in there somewhere as well. We'll see what the hall looks like.