My husband, Dan, is good at many things. Folding t-shirts. Cooking. Cwtches (trans: Welsh hugs, big, ribcage-squeezing). Being a far more patient parent and partner than his hot-blooded Welsh wife. Being a zombie before 8am (I forgive you).
He’s also a music-lover (can you imagine me with anyone else?). Our tastes are quite the Venn diagram. The bit I’m …
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