until next time....

She's worried.  I don't know what's going on but it would be best if you lay low for a while.


That was a year ago.  I was compelled to make this trip and I was nervous about it.  Once I arrived, I instantly relaxed.  As soon as I closed my eyes and sank into his too comfy bed, everything felt ok.  And then he spoke and everything was all right.

A year to the day since the last time we played together.   We celebrated with 2 gigs that night and after that we sat in the front yard with a large bottle of Yellowtail, a couple of stray kittens, and eventually, a sunrise.  His eyes struck me as I watched him talk.  Red and slightly swollen and teary, cheeks a little hollow... he was on the wrong side of youth.  I know that means I am too. 

We had no intention of watching the sun come up over the bay or of anxiously waiting to see "OPEN" in Capt. Jim's window glow red and stumbling over at 6:30 am.  He drifted off while we waited for our omelets... eyes still open as I babbled about something when he startled and shouted, "E!"  Had I not been fighting to stay awake myself I would have gotten a good laugh of everyone in the restaurant turning and staring at us.  We climbed into bed around 10:30 am after picking up the dog and woke around 4... just in time to shower, eat, and play another gig.

The next morning we drove to South Carolina.  Every time I looked over from the passenger's seat I searched his eyes.  It was still there but softened by daylight, sobriety, and laughter.  We puzzled over spanish moss, marveled at the super cheap gas, and joked at the overabundance of pancake houses and BBQ places.  That evening after a wonderful home cooked meal, the three of us sat in the garage smoking and drinking wine and talking well into the night.  Though two of us had met electronically less than a year ago and in person only hours before, it felt as if we were lifelong friends.  I like these people.  No, love them.  Home to me has never been geographic.  It has always been, and I think always will be, in people.     

We returned to the North Carolina beaches to clouds and rain.  The second day of this I found myself alone for the first time in a week.  My dog friend was snoring and farting next to me on the soon to be homeless couch and my wish for the sun was merely wrapped in the desire for warmth.  I was expected back in Maryland that evening and called to inform them that I hadn't yet left and didn't intend to until sometime the following week. 

There were more gigs, more beers, more shots, more friends, a day on the beach, a moving day, movies, and Oreos and milk....

I finally arrived in Maryland nine days late.  The sun was hot on my face and my pajama pants were rolled up above my knees as I eased into the day on the back deck.  Morning coffee is meant to be enjoyed in wonderful places like this with the yellowing walnut tree leaves starting to fall and on the boat slip in Sneads Ferry, NC while the little fishes jump through the air as if they were dolphins.  There's still a little time left.... just a little.

I'm in love with second hand smoke again.  Yesterday, I understood that this is common among my non-smoking cousins.  "Cigarette fingers," she said, "they just make me think of Yiayia." 

Yiayia.....          Greece.... 


I'm also addicted to music again.  For that I am most thankful. 


As I neared the Pennsylvania border I saw a huge rainbow arching over Philadelphia and smiled.  This isn't so bad....  Then I crossed the Pennsylvania border and the skies opened up and released a hellish storm.  That's the problem with not having automatic windows... the sudden storm soaked through my seats, suitcase and bags, puddled in my purse and drenched my keyboard case before traffic stopped enough for me to reach over and roll them up.  A grand Welcome back. 

The rains washed the last of  the North Carolina sand from my tire treads and the lack of butterflies here now strikes me.  I'm getting farther from the peace music gives me and closer to the stress of teaching.

It's time to find the new in-between. 

As I welcome fall this year, I look forward to more than just next summer vacation.

"It's been sunny and hot here with thunderstorms every day since you left." 

I haven't left in 13 years.... it's about time.