I finally just had to give up writing about my trip home. There are really only so many ways to make "slept in tent, had coffee, saw kids, got sunburned" interesting. To read about, that is. The doing was fantabulous, but to keep writing about it...well, either you were there, and don't need to read about it; or you weren't there, and there's no point, coz a few photos and sentences just aren't going to capture it, really. It was marvellous.
I came back with a highly-uneven suntan, and feet in desperate need of professional pedicure-y attention. In the midst of the best of it, delightfully satisfied after a potluck fit for royalty (elk! mmmmm!) my friend Beth summed it up perfectly: we were sitting with our sun-hats on, friends playing music, drinks in hand, throats tired from singing....and she looked around us, sighed, and said "Now this is the life! I do wonder what the rich folk are doing right now?" Amen!
(I'm happy to report that my guitar survived the flight home in one piece. With big "FRAGILE" stickers slapped on both sides of the case - very cool. I feel like such a big kid, now!)
And now I'm back into the swing of things in The Big City. It's good, of course, to be back home with Mr.Q and the kitties. It helped that I came out of a weekend with about 36 hours of non-stop home-grown music, and back to an Emmylou Harris concert.
Ummm....wow. Just wow.
Her genuine love of music and total lack of ego or pretentiousness are inspiring. She's amazing. Also, I want her hair when I grow up!
(Before you start getting cavities from all the sweetness and light: I woke up to discover that Mr.Q had absconded with my brownie this morning! I was so looking forward to eating it for breakfast. He is in so much trouble!)
(Also, I have a cold sore...I'm not sure which is worse - the itching, or the no-kissing! Wah! Though after the Great Brownie Heist, I'm not sure a certain someone would be getting any kisses, anway. Poor, poor me!)