Little to say other than, to my ear, we chose well today when needing some music behind our morning reading, our multiple hands of Canasta, and our lollygagging around during our final vacation day at the historic (and inexpensive) Elms Hotel.

Morning: I told Nicole she could pick any great album ever released and I could probably find it and stream it from my phone. Her response?

“Too much pressure! You always do this to me when I’m trying to practice my Spanish!”

“Yeah, but you always wanna be asked before I play something!”

“Dammit, you’re right–something Colombian, then–”

Afternoon: we decided to resume our Canastathon. I had briefly assumed a lead, but, partially due to my enthusiasm for playing wild cards and her tendency to hold them back, she has dominated throughout. This time, she had an immediate answer when I made a soundtrack request:

I piggybacked on that with this:

Evening: after some swimming and poolside lounging and reading, we returned to the room for a maple syrup Old Fashioned (her) and a Main Root ginger beer and bourbon (me), and four hands of Canasta. Nicole’s defenses were weakened so I took matters into my own hands with possibly the greatest record of all-time, and two reasonable follow-ups:

Unfortunately, the above didn’t help my luck (I’m 2000 points down), but they certainly established a mood.

Short-shrift Division:

Fiercest desert blues in awhile.