in the service of the muse

Last week Z and I flew to Georgia for Thanksgiving, since T was deer hunting in Indiana. I had expected crowded airports and long waits, but the trip was actually the same as usual. No problems at all. Instead of the faithful Holiday Inn in Athens, we had to stay at the new Hilton Garden Inn. It's a great location, smack-dab downtown. Our room had a fridge and microwave, so we made our own breakfast every morning.

I could go on about the entire trip, but I feel like writing about the highlight. RY had taken some of Jessica's lyrics and composed melodies for them. Thursday night we went to her apartment and she played one for us. Nighttime Sunglasses. These were the lyrics that I could most easily imagine actually being a song, and R did a brilliant job of matching them to a melody. I can't wait for her to do the others and actually make a recording.

We sat in her apartment and she played guitar to accompany herself as she sang Jessica's words. I looked over and saw tears glistening in LG's eyes. Z's eyes were filling up as well. Me? I was just so pleased that one of Jessica's dreams was actually coming true.

R had prepared another song, but the lyrics were sad so I didn't want Z to have to listen, since it was apparent that the experience was very emotional for her.

Then yesterday I started thinking, wondering what Jessica would have thought of R's treatment of her song. Would she have been pleased? Would she have thought it wasn't "rock" enough? I simply cannot know; she was very unpredictable about such things. I think she would have wanted to work with R to get the song just the way she wanted it. But we'll never know. And that's okay.

drive across the county line

I got down and dirty at the Texas Motor Speedway this past Saturday. My friend BS came down from OK with her season tickets to the NASCAR. Saturday Z went with her to the race, had a good time. It turned out that the sneaky little thing hadn't mentioned to us that Saturday was her birthday! T and I took her out to dinner at a Romanian Food Festival where she promptly ordered hot honeyed brandy, which turned out to be very very strong! We both enjoyed the hot honeyed wine though, while T had Romanian beer. The food was good, different, interesting: cabbage rolls, something sauerkrautish with meat, weird sausage, a polenta-like dish that B thought was bland but that I liked very much. We brought home a pound cake with sour cherries in it for Sunday's breakfast.

Sunday B & I headed out early to the race; got caught in some traffic on I-35W so it took us a while to get there. It rained a bit as we were arriving, but they got out the jet engines and dried the track so the race wasn't too late starting. It was a typical race - spin-outs, wall-crashes, a blown engine and a blown tire. B's favorite driver, Tony Stewart, totally dominated the race and then won, so it was a nice birthday treat for her.

She and I always have a good time together, and we went ahead and planned another adventure while she was here. In February, we'll fly to Chicago for a Josh Ritter concert! No, she has not become a stalker! B's never been to Chicago and wants to see it, so this seemed a perfect opportunity. *smirk*

when I wear it she crosses my mind

In looking back, I see that I have mentioned my Afghan hat project, but not explained it. So:
a few months ago (May? April?) I decided that I wanted to take up crocheting again. I knew that I'd end up making things that I couldn't use, so had to figure out what I could make that someone else could use. After trial and error, I figured out how to crochet hats. Beanies. Skull caps. Whatever one wants to call them.

So, I started crocheting every night and was soon able to make at least one hat per evening, while watching an hour-long TV show. I had been checking out the anysoldier.com website and found a sailor stationed in Afghanistan who wanted caps for Afghani children, so I've been sending them to him. Lost count, but I've made and sent over 100, for sure.

Crocheting has been therapeutic: keeps hands busy so I can't nibble while watching TV; provides stimulation via colors, textures, motion; soothes and relaxes; provides a useful item for someone.

Some of my online pals asked for hats for themselves so I made and sent them some. Then there were suggestions that I make and send hats to people I admire. Hence the previous reference to alpaca yarn for a hat for Josh Ritter. I mailed the hat to him, hmmm, in late-ish October. Saturday, I received a thank-you note in the mail. Rarely do we see hand-addressed envelopes in the mailbox, since it's usually full of bills and junk mail, so I noticed immediately that there was a personal letter for me. When I saw the return address, I was shocked. "JR" at a post office box in Idaho. Inside was a lovely card with a quote from William Morris on the front: "Believe me, if we want art to begin at home, as it must, we must clear our houses of troublesome superfluities that are forever in our way, conventional comforts that are no real comforts, and do but make work for servants and doctors. If you want a golden rule that will fit everybody, this is it: HAVE NOTHING IN YOUR HOUSES THAT YOU DO NOT KNOW TO BE USEFUL, OR BELIEVE TO BE BEAUTIFUL."

The gracious note read, in part "Thank you so much for the beautiful letter and the (very) beautiful hat. It's gorgeous, and that's a word I rarely use. I'm profoundly proud and happy that my music has found you." Finally, "Until I see you again, I hope music keeps you as warm as your hat is keeping me!" A charming and kind note from someone whose mother has taught him well.