I set the phonograph needle down carefully, and Etta James’ husky voice pours into my living room like wild honey, sweetening the night and my soul in equal measures. Wrapping my cotton dressing gown tightly around me, I admire the hand-stamped wheat sheaves print and the deep indigo color . Despite the fact that it is May, the fog has rolled in bringing a chill. As Mark Twain supposedly said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco”…and he is correct. Etta, a steaming bath, Earl Grey tea, the full moon, and a cat upon my lap keep me warm.
Oh, it’s so good
On a cold night
To have a fire
Burnin’ warm and bright
” (R. Newman)
Monsieur Dandy Du Jour