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It’s all about al fresco at Grammy June’s, as long as we can hear the piano from the window. Croquet on the lawn and that big dreamy hammock under the wisteria trees, thickly quilted and edged in lace. The cats in the yard, lush and electric, doing the twist on the deck under paper garlands. Every note we played is wrapped up in that cameo, a hundred perfect moments preserved and shining, a certain kind of shorthand.