August and a few leaves out on the greenway spotting and starting to turn. Yesterday morning I was out there again for the first time in a while, panting and sweating in the name of good health and happiness, early enough before the heat really came on strong. A good day yesterday; pecked at a new song I started this week, and I think it’s almost done. But I’m so far inside it that I have no idea if it’s any good.
Played a brief opening set last night at the Family Wash with Joe V. McMahan and Luella Wood; we were all planning to be there anyway to see our friends Joe and Vicki Price play. Sat in with them towards the end of the night, and it went on for a while–great fun it was, if embarrassingly under-witnessed. Got home a little after 1. Other living creatures at this address rise and move daily at around 5:30, (with no quiet mercy for the late-arriving troubadour) so . . . I didn’t sleep much.
Hoping to catch up tonight, although I’ve been invited to a guitar pull here in the neighborhood, hosted by a fellow whose propensity for tilting one’s consciousness hard and to the left is unmatched in my contacts list. The mayor of Blotto. But my focus will be on the music more than the mayhem. (note to self: Repeat this 10 times before pulling out of the driveway tonight.)
Much on my mind, like always, but the non-sequitur connectivity that multi-tasking breeds is getting on my bad side: I sat down this morning and read some James Dickey poems out loud; work I haven’t visited in a long while. The dogs and I were all enthralled. Then came across a certain word–”moonlight”–and that word triggered a mental reminder that I needed to email a certain venue about returning there in January. Grrrr. I guess I’m grateful that I remembered, though there are times when you just want to hear the pure, clear word for its own sake. And before I drift too far and long here, I’d better stop . . . and get back to work. Have a great Labor Day weekend–see you when I see you.