Fish are jumpin’ And the cotton is high

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It’s a quiet Sunday around here and that often means some piano in the background while I tinker with whatever writing projects I’ve got going. Some days it’s Errol Garner, some days I’ll dig out Vince Guaraldi but more often than not it’ll be Oscar Peterson. It’s cold ’round these parts so the soft, languid notes of “Summertime” help me get by while I wait for the snow to melt.