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Hopelessly, whitely beautiful as was the night and sweet and bitter the wind and attractive the conversation of the mallards, we got blue with cold and our ears felt like wounds. We rushed back to the warm house and played the whole album of the Benny Goodman concert at Carnegie Hall. The only difference was that we played it much louder than the original could possibly have been. I drank a beer and the kids made a horrid mixture of chocolate that poured like fudge. Then we went to bed, half praying for a snowstorm. The Point is wonderful when the good snow blows over it riding the wind like a horse.
(Note 1 — Must winter-spray my fruit trees tomorrow if possible.)
(Note 2 — Take lawn mower to town to be repaired
against the time when we will have a lawn.)
(Note 3 — Stay off their backs.)
We slept sweetly and long.

– John Steinbeck, Conversation at Sag Harbor

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