No Matter Where We Are We're Ever South

I've missed my chair and my ottoman. Nanny says "It's good to travel, but it's nice to come home too." I have spent the last five nights with the best group of people I think I'll ever have the fortune to know. We did some really good work. I am proud. Proud of them. Proud of myself. So proud that I get to call myself one of them. I've said for a long time I don't deserve them. But they keep me around, the best of them, so I must deserve them after all. Getting to know some of them has shown how similar we are in ways and how empathetic and compassionate these beautiful souls are, well, I think it's made me a better person. One more reason to be grateful for where I am. All of that has helped me be more of those things for others. And that is a gift I'll never be able to repay. I love these people.

The house is very quiet. And empty. That's odd after barely sitting down for the past week. It hit me a little hard for a few minutes. Post show blues, they call it. What's it mean when it's four days of shows and six days of beautiful people? It was so good to see some positive movement from folks I care about. I don't think a smile has ever affected me the way that one did yesterday afternoon. I think I'll have to amend his nickname. I hope I'm growing like that too.

I met so many wonderful people to love to pieces. I'm not a big hugger, but I hugged so many people. Strangers. And multiple hugs from not strangers. I cannot even begin on the quality of the music. My legs are sore from dancing. Sore muscles from a rock show or four.

My annual artistic donation almost went sideways at 11pm on Tuesday. I sewed the zipper up in the sewing machine. Broke the needle, couldn't get the broken needle out of the machine, then couldn't get the broken needle out of the zipper. Then couldn't get the new needle to cooperate. I was near tears and ready to call the organizer and tell him that I had failed. But then I got it. I hate invisible zippers. Hate. Them. Probably means I need to work with them more.

People I didn't know approached and told me they like my writing or my art and that was surreal. I don't think I'll ever get used to that or ever be less surprised and grateful. I'm happy that someone finds value beyond me. One friend sits beside me and studies my face a moment before asking me "How fast does your mind work?" I told him pretty fast and he said it was clear and that my writing showed it too. Again, it's the one way to make me blush and look at my feet.

There were so many shared meals and wonderful, wonderful, wonderful conversations. There were tidepools and new shades of green and some pretty impressive belt buckles, complete with a bidding war. I had to fight this big hilljack for that buckle. He's not really a hilljack, but it sure sounds better that way. My heart and my mind are full of all that love around me. The timing was good.

I took Gabe one night this year. Thursday instead of Saturday. He is like his mama, anxious in big crowds, especially when they want to talk to him and he has no idea who they are. But he did really well this year. He took care of me by the end of the night. I'd had too much to drink on an empty stomach (and you better believe he told me so) and I tanked off a low curb. I couldn't stop myself on my hand because of my shoulder, so I just had to go down like a sack of bricks. Right onto my right knee. There was blood and dirt in that scrape. Gabe took me and made me eat and took me home. He's so protective of me. He's still apparently really mad at that one guy. I guess he's right, that guy doesn't get to complain about anything after the way he acted. Like I didn't jump into that with my eyes open and no sense to speak of on my own.

They say we raised $63,000 to provide mental health care and prevent suicide in musicians. And today would have been Jay's birthday. The nonprofit I work with got their email accounts switched on today. That one offers hands-on therapy for veterans to... well, prevent suicide and offer a tangible service in the meantime. I guess there might be a theme for me. I would never wish that experience on anyone, but I'm glad that I'm taking that pain and turning it into something that might help folks. Always a different way to look at even the worst things in your life.

And this afternoon, I got a brand new tattoo. A tattoo about a love song and a song that inspects the love and wonder and hypocrisy of the Southern thing. And I met the most wonderful person. She happened to also be doing the tattooing. Gabe gets a look at it in person and says "It's so perfect that it looks like it was printed on your skin." It really is beautifully done.

I look forward to sleeping in my own bed. I hate that there won't be breakfast and in-person Royales and that little place where the sand meets the water and another rock show and one more day to help bring our goodness to the places it's needed. Maybe it's like Christmas, it's better if it's only once a year. I missed my cats. I think they missed me, but they're cats, so who really knows? I missed my kid. He was here a little while. Long enough to eat and head out to hike the lake with a friend.

I could write about this past week for days. And never be able to tell every story. I'll keep it up and try though.