I have a new-to-me library table. It’s teak, and the clever Danes who built it circa 1960 had dining in mind but so what — it will be great for sorting music. The six-foot folding work table has retired to the garage. It can go outside for messy jobs and patio dinners, but only if it’s at ground level — too heavy for me to move downstairs by myself.

The shipment of freshly reprinted sheet music that was supposed to arrive on Wednesday is now two days late. I am highly displeased.