Pure Magic

Good morning, I'm a little late in the coming here... much to tell about our musical venue Sunday, with Mr. Danny Schmidt. So much to say about that, but I do no want to take anything away from the pure magic of the experience with too many words,so- my overall impression was this:

I am so proud of my community. Folks turned out and into a little cafe that they had never heard of before to see a musical storyteller that they hadn't known much about and gathered in such a way that standing room only, pressed up against folks they had never been entwined with before- meant still a comfortable place completely out of perceived comfort zones

Why???

Heck if I know, I only know it all came together in such a beautiful way led by a bright spirit who soothed the aches and tickled the fancy of each soul there in that little eatery.

And I got to watch it all unfold.

But the best part of the whole deal? My children were there, fully and observant, supportive and encouraging in a way I had never seen before. Folk music is not the four letter word they had envisioned, no... they were mesmerized, harmonized and completely mystified.

Emma did mass quantities of dishes...just because, and then joked all through the greasy entanglements. My my my how her light shined! Mathew, big old brutish, sweet beautiful boy/man- was charming, was introspective, was tender, was full of questions...and Miss Lily, grace flowing under pressure- smiles, and sweetness and pure Lily.

At intermission, Jill Manning and Jaigh Lauder blew us all away with their music, (and their music just has to be experienced)...Jill, cafe owner, brilliant songstress- can I just say how proud I am of this woman? She rocks the boat. She swells with spirit and doles it out like the great and wonderful cook she is- in heaping helpings of...well- soul, big soul. Jaigh's guitar melodies ring out from the plucks of nimble fingers that your eyes don't actually see moving...it's as if he tells the guitar, before the music ever starts- "Say something." And it speaks through his strums.

I was part of something big and intimate all at the same time, I knew it to be remarkable...it could not have been any better. How often does one get to realize such things? I'm still scratching my head...and ever so thankful.

Be well, take care-

the rooster is crooning

Good morning. Winter is here. Summer has gone. Spring is not in the air though it's still around- sleeping in the garlic bulbs planted in late October, in the tulip bed where the flowers wait. Fall is left to lay on the frosty ground, the leaves blanketing the lawn like a decaying quilt. The pines to the east stand as sentries to the winter blasts sure to come, and in their branches heavily laden with green needles are nests the staunchest of birds have built for their winter homes. Everything is quietly peaceful this A.M, even the rooster is crooning instead of crowing. The crescent moon barely visible as the sun makes it's warm way into the graces of the sky, and-

"...no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."

-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s

from Desiderata

(I love that verse, hope you find a bit of solace in it too.)

Take care-