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I Voted for Quiet Music

We are perched side by side on an upper landing in this barn, floating in the resonant space of music we have never heard so close, have never heard unmediated, have never heard in four-part harmony.


We returned home in the early evening of that fateful September Saturday reeking, having taste-tested garlic knots, garlic fudge, garlic mustards and dips, cheeses and cheese curds, nuts and nut butters, vinegars, pickles, and hot sauces.


Despite our best efforts, however, okra gets overly large and woody, tomatoes drop to the ground and burst, lettuce bolts, and basil goes to seed.

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