Haha!

Fortunately, I avoided that fate.  Thank you, John Paul Jones!

Sometimes I worry about things and can't sleep -- who doesn't?  But often I can't fall asleep because my mind keeps running on, continuing discussions I've had, or thinking about things I've read.  I have conversations with friends and relatives.  At some point I drift off and the conversations become dreams.
Oh, and I sleep in the buff, too.  I'd rather add another blanket or turn up the electric blanket a notch than wear night clothes.

Odors of orange-flowers and spice
  Reached them from time to time,
Like airs that breathe from Paradise
  Upon a world of crime. 
               
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Longfellow is, perhaps, my favorite poet.  Most only know him from the bit of children's doggerel**, and that's such a shame.  He had such a masterful way with words and such keen insight into the human heart.  He created so many memorable phrases, too, that people all these years later still repeat, not knowing at all that they were first thought of and written down by dear Henry.  Oh, well, into each life some rain must fall.
Now who said that...?

We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints
on the sand of time

** "I'm a poet but don't know it, but my feet do because they're long fellows."

Shut up, he explained

From the comic novel The Young Immigrunts by Ring Lardner, Jr., published in 1920, a very expressive phrase that probably has more significance today than it did when it was written a century ago.

The Young Immigrunts

Now, Only Now

“If I could, I would stop the passage of time. But hour follows on hour, minute on minute, each second robbing me of a morsel of myself for the nothing of tomorrow. I shall never experience this moment again.”
― Guy de Maupassant

Idly playing Satie on a quiet evening.

Evening

It's when the swallows finish up their last swoops and hand over the night to the bats.  It's when an uncertain breeze springs up from nowhere, rustling the grass and rippling the leaves.  It's when coyotes begin to yip and howl, padding through the spreading shadows.  It's when Venus brightens into visibility in the western sky and an owl glides silently overhead.  It's when there are sudden silences and strange stirrings behind you.
It's when I feel peaceful and happy.

I sure hope so!

Who doesn't like N.C. Wyeth?

Yeah!

Yeah, how come?

My favorite

My favorite piano is the Sohmer Baby Grand.  They don't make them any more, but at one time it was an arch-rival of Steinway, and had several unique attributes.  And sounds so great. Like no other to my ear. Victor Herbert and Irving Berlin composed on their very own Sohmers.  They knew quality.
Today the name is owned by some stupid South Korean company but is not put on any of their crummy products, fortunately.
In 1910 there was one piano for every 252 Americans.  Now...?  You know what killed the piano?  Radio.  Piano sales peaked in 1924 and then went into a slide they've never recovered from.  Sales of pianos dropped off in step with the increase in sales of radios.  Talk about unintended consequences.
What a shame.

I've had that urge once or twice