Today it snowed for real for the first time this year, not just a few drifty flakes but snow upon snow upon snow. I'd call it a snowstorm, but R says no. For him, a snowstorm means zero visibility where you can't see your own feet. So, okay, it wasn't that bad. But hey. The streetlights had a 3-D halo of falling snow and R's eyebrows were frosted. The bottoms of my jeans were frozen almost to my knees from kicking through the snow that hadn't yet been cleaned off the sidewalks.
I'd decided to go for a walk looking for a bar we'd been to years ago to hear accordion music. The musicians sat in a circle of chairs in the center of the room. Whoever showed up with an instrument could join the circle. Accordions with keys, accordions with buttons. A couple of fiddles. The music continued without stop, segueing from one traditional number to the next.
The bar is still there--still friendly--though they no longer host accordion evenings. Too bad. I wanted to recommend it to a friend who plays a concertina she transports in a nylon beer cooler. She'd have been a hit.
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