It’s been a busy weekend, and this is just a note to say if I owe you an email, please hang on a bit. This vacation stuff is great, but I’m not getting anything done. Oh, but I’m having fun. And more fun is in store—my own Em will be here soon, and then NEITHER of us will be blogging much.
Oh, and woot! My offer on the condo of my dreams was really accepted! We open escrow tomorrow morning (Monday). I’m trying to remember that escrows fall through ALL the time (it just doesn’t seem right to pluralize that word: escrows. Huh). I’m trying not to get too excited until (if and when) the key is in my hot and sweaty nervous hand. But I’m letting myself dream a leetle bit more now. I was at a party last night eyeing their paint job….
I’ll just quickly give you one snippet of my weekend: Last night, I was sitting in the living room of a hundred-year old house realizing again that everything comes full circle. I have been in living rooms where music is being played a million times. Okay, almost a million. I was raised in the living room hearing Dad sing “You Ain’t Going Nowhere” and thinking vaguely that it was a little strange—it wasn’t what the other kids were doing. We didn’t have cable. We read. We made things. We hung out with the grown-ups while they sang. And last night, I sat next to Lala at this house-warming party. She had her banjo, Alice had her guitar, and Jerry knew almost every verse of every standard folk song and played great guitar and harmonica. There were eight of us, and we must have sat around singing and jamming for a good two hours at least, jumping in with any words and harmony we could remember for Joni/Bob/Joan/Lucinda/Dolly/Alison songs. This was after the party had moved in from outside, leaving the belly-dancing rug out in the cold. It felt right. Y’know?
Hey, this Mary Gauthier album is insanely wonderful. Go have a listen. Mwah!
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