My mom says she can hear the “into the wine already” sound in my voice, along with faint traces of Philadelphia picked up from her.
We have guitars instead of piano (and banjo and mandolin and Latin percussion), a million science ficion shows on DVD (one which includes the impossibly-stunning James Morrison), and orchids. The orchids are silent :-). We only have talk radio on the weekends, when DP brings his Sirius receiver in from the truck.
I’ve always said that if I ever ran away from home, they should look for me in a religious order with a strict rule of silence!
You’d never last beyond initiation in a Abbey with a vow of silence! Get real!
LOL!
Wishful thinking, for sure!
ROFL! The few times I got breaks... I'd plot all the zillions of things I'd get done. And then suddenly, the house was quiet... I'd be home alone. And I wouldn't do a darned thing, I was so overwhelmed by the quiet. I'd simply sit, and listen to the quiet. Workout, listening to the quiet. Garden, listening to the quiet.
I'd suddenly find myself looking at my hands, acknowledging that they were mine.