Now it's too hot to sleep again. To try and correct myself up there, my mother also had crystal clear handwriting. She taught me to switch between upper and lowercase on crosswords, depending on levels of certainty. My handwriting is a mess of graphite and ink but you should see my music writing. It looks printed. To each their own perfectionism.
(Now almost every crossword I solve in my sleep is in lowercase. Safer that way.)
My father (to repeat) solves crosswords like golf holes (and he's never been on a green).
Start from the top left and wend one way or another to the bottom right.
Never mind the missed strokes.
I so love my parents but feel like a product of circumstance.
(That was for you, J bro, if you ever sally here.)
(When I played those kinds of pieces I clinged to trombone like a fire ladder. Then I learned to arrange and now can actually hear what all others put into it. What a pleasure.)
