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I have been thinking of dust sheets these days, like the ones you might see in a scene in a period piece where a family is leaving a great estate and the servants are solemnly covering the furniture. They are often scenes with a melancholy score, as past glories are shrouded, often only to be enjoyed later by new tenants, and the small ephemera of ordinary life is packed away for removal…

…continue here To Dust Sheet One’s Heart