Comfort for the Apocalypse Issue 6: Dinner and Drinks at the End of the World
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A Conspiracy of Houses “How do you put up with that?” Jan asks me, wrinkling her nose at the sound of drums coming from my husband Brian’s garage-turned-music studio below my textile studio and office. I hadn’t noticed the sound of Todd’s motorcycle pulling up, but now realize it must be 2:30 and he’s let himself in. A couple of months ago, we offered him use of the space when he complained he had nowhere to practice since moving to the island. He now has a massive drum kit set up down there and is one of a handful of musicians who uses the space during the week.
Comfort for the Apocalypse Issue 6: Dinner and Drinks at the End of the World
Comfort for the Apocalypse Issue 6: Dinner…
Comfort for the Apocalypse Issue 6: Dinner and Drinks at the End of the World
A Conspiracy of Houses “How do you put up with that?” Jan asks me, wrinkling her nose at the sound of drums coming from my husband Brian’s garage-turned-music studio below my textile studio and office. I hadn’t noticed the sound of Todd’s motorcycle pulling up, but now realize it must be 2:30 and he’s let himself in. A couple of months ago, we offered him use of the space when he complained he had nowhere to practice since moving to the island. He now has a massive drum kit set up down there and is one of a handful of musicians who uses the space during the week.