You Can't Go Home Again

When you leave home, even if for a brief spell, it never is quite the same when you return.

I came home in time to drop off my suitcases, pack another and head to my Granny's funeral.

When I finally made it back to Judy Branch a few days later, it was to an altered place. The most obvious is that the forest around my house is being logged. For what it's worth, it is part of the forest management, meaning that it's selective logging using sustainable practices. Still, it is loud and there are people around my house when usually there are only dogs, cows and wild beasts. It's unsettling, especially since the only thing I have really craved since coming home and burying my granny is to have some time of perfect solitude at home.

I am not sure this will be possible.

I feel unsettled, and I think that I am supposed to do something about it. Soon.

There are some things that bring you home, even when your own homeplace is in a state of upheaval. I found deep comfort when I ventured over to Family Folk Week at Hindman last night to visit with my friends and join in the square dance and the late night jam session at the wood shed. It's nice to run into music buddies I only see once or twice a year and find that they already know where I've been and what I've been up to. It feels like a family, and I enjoy being a member and watching how everyone interacts. Some of these folks I see nearly every week, while others I may only see once a year. And how wonderful it is to see old friends with such long histories reunited and playing music late into the night! If only life could be like this all the time.

It's all up in the air...

Tomorrow will be the last day of this adventure across Ukraine and Poland. I am always amazed how condensed time and space become when you live as a traveller (note: this is very different from life as a tourist, but I do not need to tell YOU this, do I?!). It feels like my brief life in Ukraine was years ago rather than a month.

I have met so many interesting people and lived a life in which every day was a surprise.

For the most part, these times have been incredibly good [bardzo dobry!!!]. But there have been times when I have yearned for my own free will and some time to myself.

There is a trade off from being a traveller who is a guest in people's homes and towns or cities as opposed to being a traveller who is a passerby in these places and, for the most part meets only other such travellers. Good points to both, and I hope that my future will allow me to merge my usual style of travelling (the latter) with the kind I have been involved with this past month.

I have a big desire now to learn a language like Polish, as fluently as possible. And I am sad to say that now my desires to once again live in a foreign land may be much more easily achieved.

A few days ago, my best friend in the whole world, my granma, passed away. As long as she was alive, I could not bring myself to move too far away, because she is so very special to me. It does not yet seem real to me, and I know that it will be especially difficult when I return to my life after this journey, because my instinct will be to go visit or to call her first thing. Before sleep, before anything else, the top of my list would be to tell Granny all about my adventures while they were still fresh on my mind.

I have no idea who I will talk with now that she is gone. It is terrifying for me to imagine the loneliness that I will feel in her absence. No matter where I may make my home, I will always crave hours of late night conversation with my granny.

Maybe I will move to Poland or Ukraine?

There are certain characteristics of the communities in both Poland and Ukraine of which I feel a very strong kinship. I like how they actually embrace the idea of laissez faire in everyday life. There's an intense difference of cultures when you cross the border from Poland to either Denmark or Germany. Much more order and tidyness in those countries. I like the relaxed atmosphere of my host nations.

My friend Deborah and I have had many opportunities to share music with our hosts in many different places. Just now we are at the home of a Vetrinarian in Swinoujsin, the most northwestern point of Poland. Before we arrived here, I injured my back even more (I did something bad to in in November that has caused chronic sciatica) when I fell down some steps on the ferry from Copenhagen. I got to experinece the Polish medical system and am now on some amazing medication that actually stops the muscle spasms from both this current injury as well as the back pain I have been struggling with since November. I will bring the bottles back to KY and try to get my doctor to figure out what actually works for my problem. How funny that the Polish chiropractor immediately found somthing to cure my pain, while I have spent weeks, moths, etc. in KY trying to get just a little bit of relief!

One of my favorite aspects of this trip is that we are making real connections with people, visiting and often living in their homes. I hope to re-visit both Poland and Ukraine again and again, and I most certainly hope that my new friends will come to visit me in the states.

I don't know what my life will be like when I return home, but I know that this will be one of the most important experiences I have ever had. Americans, in general, know so little about the world outside of their own small spaces. There are so many extraordinary people in the world, so many common grounds to discover. I know that for the entirety of my life that I will be a rambler, and this soothes my soul.

Life is short, and we must make the most of it. Love the people you meet and cherish every breath that you breathe.

Today Deborah and I rode bicylces to the German border and back and explored the city of Swinoujsin. Tomorrw we depart for a new home, Wolstyn, perhaps?

A Wanderer's Update from Szczezin

Internet has not been part of my reality for the past couple of weeks, and I am doubtful that it will be in the coming weeks. I will try my best to provide a concise update of my adventures.

It all began with a three hour drive from Judy Branch to Berea where I met Deb and Frank, and Frank drove us another two hours or so to the Cincinnatti airport where Deb and I met up with our fellow travellers. Then a flight to Chicago. A delay followed by a hellacious change of planes which involved leaving the secured area, re-checking in, taking a train to the other terminal where our plan had already been boarding for half and hour. Packed flight on AirLOT (Polish airlines). I watched Night in the Museum with Polish voiceover, very entertaining. Arrived in Warsaw after 9.5 hours and waited several hours for our delayed plane to Lviv, Ukraine (Lvov in Polski). The real adventure began when we landed at Lviv. The airport was one small palace looking building with high arches. Beautiful. We went into the main room of the building and were locked in to go through a detailed customs accounting. When we finally made it through into the open entrance, our host families were there to greet us.

I fell in love with my first host family, and I could live with them forever: Voldymyr, Nadia and daughter Iryna. All musicians and all genuinely amazing people. Voldymyr is a professional musican (rock n roll) as well as a conductor; Nadia teaches at a music school and Iryna is a university student who also sings and plays bandola (a traditional Ukrainian instrument). They live in a small village just outside of Lviv called Navaria and their house was a work in progress, with Voldymyr working on it as he had time. Very nice and a place that both Deb and I could easily, immediately call home. My fondest memories are of the many cognac or vodka toasts (along with chocolate eating)before bed, watching the end of the Eurovision competition (Ukraine placed second. Serbia was the winner), Voldymyr's sister's birthday party (where Deb, Iryna and I were the only English speakers) and a wonderful bbq at their friends' home in a neighboring village in which we played a mix of old time Appalachian and Ukrainian music (banjo, guitar, accordian, spoons) and I taught Nadia and her friends how to flat foot on the back of a work trailer! I learned from them that in Ukraine you must always toast three times: 1. For family/children 2. For friends 3. For love. And then, you find countless more things about life to toast, even when you are so sleepy you can barely keep your eyes open.

Next we were in Uzhohord, south of Lviv and across the Carpathian Mountains in the Transcarpathian region bordering Hungary and Slovakia. I thought that this small city was much more of the type of city I would enjoy living in, with the Uzh river cutting through the center of town and many open spaces, small winding cobblestone streets, theatres, opera houses, etc. I stayed on my own with a "New Ukrainian" family (meaning the new wealthy, which is increasing, but a minority) just outside of town in a very, very nice house. I LOVED the back garden area, but I was a bit scared that I would mess something up in the house, it was so nice and so spotlessly clean. Yuroslav and Oxana (my host family) had a fantastic 3-yr old son, Sasha (nick name for Alexander) who immediately became my best friend, b/c no one in the house really spoke English. Also, I gave him a wooden, magnetic train set first thing, and it became his favorite toy (at least for the time I was there!).

The next leg of the journey involved an overnight train journey with some of our Rotary hosts from Lviv to Szczecin. This was quite a trip. Six people to a car, with six bunks. We had a blast testing our Polish out on our car-mate, a young man from Szczecin who we befriended when we noticed him laughing at some of the things we said in English. We gained an audience from our train mates with our game-show style game with Polish and English language, and then, of course, the Ukrainians got in the mix and it became a total riot with everyone crying from laughing so hard. Our party was cut short when a German woman arrived as a passenger on our car and immediately demanded that it was time to go to bed, which meant we all had to fold dopwn the beds and could no longer sit together. But our new friends from the next car over began a little music concert and everyone gathered in the hallway and sang songs and Deb and I danced a little. Even the conductor got involved a little. He was going to tell us to be quiet, but when the majority of train folks (most were in the hall) said they didn't mind the music, he seemed to dance a little too on his way back up the car.

Our first few days in Szczecin involved some Rotary activities, but we have also had time to really get to see the city, which is beautiful. Szczecin is about as far away from Ukrain as one could possibly get, on the NW corner boarding Germany and not too far from Denmark. The Rotary hosts in the club that are hosting us are much younger than those we met in Ukraine, and all seem to speak English. The city is really sort of cosmopolitan, esp. in the architecture and layout of the streets. The streets are more similar to Paris, with large round-abouts. It's a shipbuilding, port city and the greenest city in Poland with many large forested parks. Very livable place.

Tomorrow evening we will head northwest to the coast and take an overnight ferry to Copenhagen where we'll have a day and then return the next night by ferry. Then we'll spend the weekend on the coast and then head south of Szczecin to some other places. For the most part, we do not know where we are going or what we shall do until it happens.

Do widzenia, for now!

Wisdom of Pebbles

A long time ago, a Tom Robbins book profoundly altered my relationship with the world and my perception of consciousness. _Skinny Legs and All_ extended my empathetic capacity to inanimate objects, and although the novel's protagonists were ordinary houshold objects-can of beans, silver spoon and a sock- I have ever since felt the life and consciousness of rocks and soil. I think that feeling was already there, especially for rocks, and Robbins validated my sense that there is a consciousness far beyond what humans have speculated.

The first time I ever went hiking with my family, age 4, I began within the first few feet, picking up rocks and putting them in my pack. One would guess the lesson I should have learned that day. I don't take as many rocks with me as I would like to, but to this day I can hardly go on a walk without picking up a stone. I have always felt connected to boulders, stones, rocks and pebbles. I love the feel of sun-warmed stone under my bare feet. Growing up in the Smokies and living my early adult life in the Blue Ridge, I would spend hours hiking mountain streams. Barefoot and with no constraint of time nor any concern for what dishelveled, muddy condition the river would release me, I would explore the feeling of the stream, the way the different kinds of rocks felt under my feet. I usually walked up stream, and I would boulder up onto the larger rock formations and stretch my body over them, feeling the grooves, finding the perfect fit. When I would find that stone that was a perfect fit, I'd lay there and stare into the water, enjoying how my perception of the life of the stream would gradually awaken, allowing me to see the life in fluid motion.

Faerie Godmother wrote in a comment that a stone told her "Don't let yourself be strip-mined. Don't let your grief pollute! Be a clear spring where the water is pure." Now that is the kind of wisdom that comes from a rock. Life is too precious to spend your time in grief and worry. Surely, if Ghandi had allowed the grief he often must of felt to overtake his life... well, just imagine!

A quick weekend jolt to my hometown fed my soul with a deep appreciation for the relationship I have with my parents, which is now emerging into such a wonderful friendship. I also got in a few hours of catching up with one of my long-time close friends, who first inspired me to visit Poland when he was living there a few years ago. Between my upcoming travels and all sorts of insane and mundane life things, we certainly didn't run out of things to talk about. And then I came back home to three animal companions who, after I've left them for a day, want to spend every second by my side. The rest of my time has been spent enjoying the company of our Indonesian visitors and learning to see my life and home through new eyes. Last night Lee & I played music for our visitors, and Lee brought the house down when he played, by request, "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain," and our visitors sang along, with great enthusiasm, about 15 verses in Javanese.

That little stone's message rings true through these many joys that bless my life at nearly every unexpected turn. Of course there will be grief, hurt, self-doubt. Hearts and mountains both are vulnerable to strip mining. But life is always ready to spring forth. You should see what's happening out here on Judy Branch!

Why Can't We Be Friends?

Today my dad and I got into one of many discussions we tend to have. Basically, it comes down to our mutual lack of understanding of how so many outspoken people can get away with saying such stupid things, and people can actual stand to listen to it... and many of them actual agree. Whether it be the right-wing "moral" upholders (who patronize high price call girl agencies while fighting prostitution on a global scale) or the hungry media scouring blogs in search of the "real" story of those impacted by the VT incident, they are all specimens of the human race that leave me feeling that there's little hope for our species. I'm with Tolkein. I just wish I could have been on that boat with Bibo, Frodo and the elves.

On the other hand, a slew of visitors from Indonesia have rekindled my joy in the human race. For a week they have, unexpectedly, been at the forefront of my everyday life, communicating with pure expression, music and mime mixed with fragmented, translated words. The first night I met them (all fifteen or so...) I ended up giving banjo lessons and exchanging dance steps. It was such a grand musical evening that I scrapped together my slim resources and gifted Sofie with a small gord banjo and Anneng with a full-sized banjo to take back to Java with them. We have a few more days left together, and I am so glad that this is so, altho I'm a bit terrified at their request for me to join in a musical collaboration for their puppetry presentation. Javanese music is entirely off the scale of any crooked KY fiddle tunes I've ever heard! I'm not sure I can even find these notes on my banjo... but I'll sure as heck try! I hope that Faerie Godmother will come up to stay on Judy Branch Tuesday evening so she can witness the beautiful Wayang puppetry performance. It is going to be something.

I'm also looking forward to bowling with them tomorrow and then Monday night when they get to meet my esteemed banjo mentor, Lee. He's always so good with entertaining folks, and I think he's excited about meeting visitors from so far away. I'll head over to his house tomorrow after bowling so we can practice up some tunes with him on fiddle & me backing him on banjo. So many good things to get into just in the next 48 hours. That restores a little faith in the human race.

Having all these folks come and stay with us in our little town reminds me of why I love to travel and meet people along the path. The most amazing people you could ever meet are those you meet unwittingly. We are from such varying religious and ethinc backgrounds, but we are all joined together in this shared experience, this common ground of being here now. I am going to miss these happenstance friends when they go back home, but I'm sure glad to be guardian of a long list of Javanese towns as destinations for the next big adventure. (MW, are you ready for our next trip? I'm voting for someplace more tropical... but it's your pick;)

I'm gettig ready to embark on my own exchange trip to small coal mining towns and whatnot in the Ukraine and Poland. I can only hope to make as deep connection with those I visit there as these visitors have made with me. And I wish I could take my first Ambassador to Poland with me.

Preparing for Departure

Preparing for departure is never easy. It can be exhilarating, exhausting and damn near impossible. Is anyone ever really ready to leave?

First off, there are so many things to be done. House needs cleaning, garden tending, laundry washing. How do you want to leave things when you go? And what to bring with you? And whom do you need to connect with before you go?

14 days until I get on a plane for Lvov. And really, all I want to do is get my garden planted, play music and just soak in springtime in the mountains. I love being disconnected from the rest of the world. No news, no TV to muddle the experience of being here now. I hope I can feel each moment in the Ukraine and Poland as intensely as I feel it here on Judy Branch.

When I come home I know that there will be many other kinds of departures to deal with. We are always leaving or being left behind.

One of the hardest things about living here is when entire mountains disappear. When I was driving to Berea last week, there was a roadblock. We were being stopped to witness a few men in backhoes systematically tear down trees on the mountainside. The mountain will be next. Living here, you become somewhat hardened to the death of mountains. You just don't have enough emotional energy to deal with it. Sitting there in my car, watching the dozer take down tree after tree that had just begun to sprout spring greens. Deep from within a sob came to surface, and before I knew it I was crying uncontrollably. For the life of me, I can't understand how any living being with a soul can actively participate in the murder of a mountain. I know all the complexities. The people behind the machines have to do those jobs to feed their family. There's a long chain of complicity. Still, I just don't understand humankind's capacity for cold-blooded murder, whether it is against each other, other living beings or entire ecosystems. It's things like this that have me convinced that I missed the boat. How can I be part of this species?

I tend to think too much and live too much in my head. Most of my life I have been terrified of my potential, as a human, to cause pain or harm to others. I have a tendency to want to protect others from myself, and I go through phases where I sort of quarantine myself away from the rest of the world... for their own good. It's not exactly a healthy way of approaching life or relationships. I have so much admiration for my friends who are outspoken and passionate and unafraid of the potential consequences of following their hearts. Maybe my heart has always been uncertain, or perhaps my brain just gets in the way. I am always trumped by this deep need to do what is best for everyone involved. I'd probably make a good mom, except that I really don't want to bring kids into this world.

I don't really expect many people read this blog. I don't try to get it out to the world. I only tell a few friends about it with little expectation that they'll actually read it. Mainly, this was something I set up to force myself to write on a regular basis, something other than grant proposals, reports or journal entries. I try to keep it to what is at the foremost on my mind, while keeping an intentional distance from my job. It seems that even in writing about things that I felt really only related to what was going on in my mind, I still manage to hurt or upset other people.

Someone recently made a comment about an entry I wrote after I learned some pretty devastating news about an old friend. I tried to keep it vague and not easy to identify, but that was under the assumption that my readership is primarily people from this life, not old high school friends. The person commenting used the word Schadenfreude, which means someone who takes pleasure in others' misery. Pretty harsh. It hurts to know that is how, after all these years, she thinks of me.

I hate that horrible things have happened to people I admire and respect. I hate that what I wrote could be taken as an insult when I meant it as homage. I don't enjoy knowing that others are experiencing unimaginable agony. It makes me feel sick. And that's why I wrote something down.

Out of respect for that friend, I will remove the entry and apologize for any pain it may have caused. I figured those old feelings were water under the bridge and that reflecting on them could do no harm. My bad.

Almost perfect storm

Another spring finds me traveling for a weekend meeting in Texas. Last year it was Dallas, and right now it's San Antonio. I have to admit that I have actually really started to enjoy going to this meetings, and not simply because of the travel. I have learned to trust that no matter how skeptical I am about the meeting's locale, it is going to be loads of fund because of the people who I'm going to meet. This is one of the aspects of my job that I really don't mind letting seep into my personal time(i.e. weekend and nights).

Last night I dined at a great Mexican restaurant with about ten artists and arts presenters. Then, after taking a little break, a few of us walked from the hotel down to Market Square to check out the opening of a new museum, complete with a FREE outdoor concert with Linda Rondstant. Prior leaving the hotel, we had gotten wind of reports of a major storm and tornado watch headed directly for San Antonio. Relying on our sense of adventure and the reassurances of a local colleague, five of us set to face whatever may hit us. We figured, how much safer would we be on the 5th floor of a hotel?

The square was lively, but not too crowded as the winds began to pick up and lightning could be seen in the near distance. Literally 20 seconds after we turned the corner to face the stage we heard a few strains of Linda's voice, followed by her explaing, "I'm sorry, but they're telling me I have to stop now." Then the announcer warned everyone that a severe thunderstorm was minutes away and everyone should safely find their way to cover. We found our way to a great mariachi bar and rode out the storm in style. The bonus? Music provided to a neighboring table by a huge band, complete with two fiddles, two trumpets, a guitar, that intstrument they use that looks like a seriously over-sized guitar (bandola?) and... a harp!!!

Dogwood Winter

What a week it has been on Judy Branch! It seems that everything is getting greener with each day, and in the past week both redbuds and dogwoods have begun to open. Young sweet peas, mustard greens and beets are coming up in the garden. It seems that the minute I fill up the bird feeders, they are emptied by busy, hungry birds.

Most of the imposter ladybugs have found their way outside. And the best part is that I have been home to witness this fantastic spring transformation.

Today brought Dogwood Winter. The temperatures have plunged, but everything is still so green.

The shock of the sudden cold paired with the clear blue skies and green everything parallels the emotional extremes I have been balancing over the last week. I have been intoxicated with spring delirum and the dizzy anticipation of an upcoming journey to Eastern Europe. These feelings were elevated a hundred fold when I learned that my friend Deborah will also be along for the adventure. Then, numbness followed by an emotional free-fall at learning news that one of my closest high school friends's life had turned upside down in a murderous love triangle. That kind of stuff doesn't happen to people I know! At least, that's what I used to think. It still doesn't feel real, but I am now at least to the point where I am not losing sleep over it.

It has been a blessing and a relief to have a week at home. There's much to be done before I spend a month in Poland and other hinterlands. First off, sleep and lots of it. I tend to run myself far beyond my battery life and then crash. The above emotional yankings intensify the depth of the crashing. Boy, have I slept, and much of the daytime sleeping has been in the hammock! Second: Find relief for the neverending back pain. Last week I finally went to a doctor (who happens to be my neighbor), got xrayed, and now I'm going to physical therapy and taking pain pills (nothing hefty, just a stronger dose than over-the-counter aleve). Wednesday it was pool therapy and tomorrow it will be regular therapy. If there's no improvement by next Wednesday, it's MRI time. Yipee!

Other tasks include learning as much Polish as possible.

Na zdrowie!

Pacific Dreams

Lately I've been remembering my dreams, and many of them have involved the Pacific Northwest or some of my friends from that beautiful locale. Odd dreams, mostly, where I'm in places that resemble recent experiences, such as my recent New Orleans adventures, but place them in another context. One dream was set in a place that was a hybrid mix of Rock n' Bowl (New Orleans) and Sky City (an old super-store we used to shop at when I was a kid), with all the Southern qualities one would expect. Only, it was dark & rainy and in Portland (I think!). In another dream, my friend Rebecca was talking to me in a very matter of fact, casual way, about driving to Portland (from Kentucky, Tennessee or somewhere in my home region). "You know, you just drive through Kansas, take a right, then a left in Idaho... It's easy. I've done it a zillion times.."

Travel is once again on my brain, but I'm surprised that my dreams aren't about taking a boat to Poland, riding trains through the Ukraine, playing my banjo in Belarus. Or perhaps about how I've been incorrectly spelling Belarus (Belaruse!) for months now!

This weekend my travel plans involve going to my hometown to participate in the annual Appalachian Studies Association conference. Of all the meetings I attend, ASA is always my favorite. When get people together who are involved in Appalachian Studies, you are always in for a good time. Thank goodness I didn't choose a highly technical or elitist field! Can you imagine what biochemistry association conferences must be like? I'm sure folks really enjoy geeking out about that stuff, but I'm more inclined to mix my intellectual networking with some banjo pickin' and moonshine sippin'!

Spring Showers

There's certainly been a hint of spring in the air. Over the past couple of weeks, the peepers have come out, welcoming me home with their chorus and creating new challenges for the "do no harm" driver. With each season, there are new critters to avoid squishing with my big metal box-on-wheels. Deer, dogs and possum are always on the list, with wooly worms, monarch butterflies, frogs and turtles acting as seasonal anti-targets (the goal being NOT to hit them). Frogs are the most difficult to dodge. Today I was thrown a surprise. I had to come to a near-halt on the highway for... a wild turkey! I love living in the mountains, no matter how challenging it is for my buddhist tendancies.

I could never be a good Buddhist anyhow. Not as long as the ladybug imposters continue to invade my homestead.

This evening brings showers. The peeper-frogs are loving it, and so am I. There's the scent of change in the air. I am feeling hopeful for experiences I can't even imagine. Rosie-le-chat is obsessed with vitamins that my chiropractor gave me. She is trying to chew through a sandwich bag in attempts to get a bite of adrenal supplements. If only I could train her to eat imposter lady bugs!!!

When I arrived home from the vaults, Bella greeted me sopping wet and covered in mud. I greeted her by giving her a bath - the third she's ever had in her entire life! She curled up asleep on a towel in her favorite chair, somewhat humbled, even though she is ordinarily quite the humble dog. And Sid Vicious? He is studying the space heater. Seems he isn't quite convinced that winter is over just yet.

And that's the Judy Branch update.

Garden Time... at last!

Yesterday I took advantage of my peculiar travel schedule (more later) and stayed home to get a start on my garden. I also took advantage of the slight ease of back pain to turn over four rows the old fashioned way. That's spade by spade. I also managed to pull up some more milkweed and thistle skeletons so that my rows would be equally long. I'm terrible at guessing distances, but I think they were each at least three feet by 25 or 30 feet. Much of my inspiration to just "dig in" rather than waiting for Neighbor Bill's tractor comes from staying at Deborah and Frank's farm outside of Berea. Frank's newly planted pea patch will soon be growing up a trestle that he made from cattle gate/fencing - another source of inspiration. I pulled out an old portable wire closet rack (you know, the self-contained kind that you can use in or out of closet), plopped it over the row where I wanted to plant peas and used it to support a trestle made of the metal pet fencing I'd used to keep the dogs out of the broccoli patch. It looks sort of trashy, but I think it will do the job! I managed to get a row each of beets, turnips and peas planted before calling it a day.

Now you may be wondering about those peculiar travel plans? My alarm went off at 2 AM this morning. I was on the road by 3 AM, on a plane by 6 AM and now I am sitting in a courtyard (circa 1860) just outside the French Quarter in New Orleans, salivating from the fumes of the neigboring Cuban restaurant. Good thing it's lunch time and that getting fed is the first thing on my itenerary!

Goodbyes Are Never Easy

Everytime I leave Judy Branch, I must go through the process of saying goodbye to Bella. My recent schedule has had me spending several nights away from home on a regular basis, and Bella is always uncertain of when I might return. I'm sure it must be unnerving, not knowing if your best buddy, parental unit, significant other, etc. will return in a few hours, a few days or a few weeks. Poor Bella! I think she and the cats have now become accustomed to spending a night or two alone, and I'm hoping that my current travel schedule will ease the disruption of my being in Poland for a month this spring.

This weekend I was faced with saying goodbye, perhaps forever, to a good friend. At the monthly old time jam this Saturday we learned that one of our music buddies was in the hospital with a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer. Even though he's a young 80, it was heartwrenching news. After the jam, eight of us caravaned up to the Pikeville Hospital and brought the old time jam to Rodney's hospital room. I'm not sure who was most affected by this simple gesture - Rodney, his daughter, or us.

My friend Bev and I were talking about how people have so many different lives. Those folks we play music with have families and friends that have no clue who we are. When we showed up at the hospital, we not only gave Rod a treat, we brought some joy (and relief) to his daughter. She finally got to be part of "that" part of his life that she had heard about but never had experienced. At one point she said to her dad, "Now I see why you always want to go down to Whitesburg..." Bev & I agreed that we want our families to know what to do/who to call if anything were to happen to us. "Callin' in the troops," is how we referred to it. If I were to pass before my folks, I'd want them to be comforted by all my music friends showing
up and playing music for/with me, whether it be at my hospital bed or at my wake. There's something about that musical connection that surpasses anything anyone can ever say or do. It's just something you share without any pretense or predjudice.

back pain

i'm about to give up on the chiropractor experiment. following my session last week i felt a marked improvement in my back and left leg. but for some reason i could not get him to do what he did (basically it was sort of like a deep tissue massage around my lower back) in this week's session. and guess what? the pain in my back has returned... with a vengence! with that returns a numbness in my left leg and foot, awkward limping and severe limitations of movement. after nearly four months of this nonsense, i'm about to lose my mind!

but i'm thinking what i need is either a really good massage therapist or a surgeon.

tonight is a judy branch night, and i'm spending it under an afghan on the couch working on a grant proposal and watching UK play in the SEC tournament. all the critters are napping nearby. i think bella misses her new best friend, justin (see picture above).

Sticking around the Old Homeplace

With all the traveling that I'm having to do these days, the time I have at Judy Branch has become even more valuable. After my week of hosting the Chocolate Drops, I jumped right back into my new fellowship schedule, which has me driving to and from Berea twice a week. I was so glad to get back home on Friday and enjoy the quiet comfort of my home.

Some strategic planning on my part allowed me to stay home all weekend, even though I hosted a meeting on Saturday morning. Instead of meeting at my workplace, I suggested they all come out to Judy Branch. It was so cozy, sitting around the kitchen table, driking coffee and snacking on cream cheese danishes while we made plans and caught up on each others' lives. While sitting there, I got to thinking about how some aspects of my job really don't feel like work, mainly because of the people I get to spend time with. I feel really fortunate that I get to spend a great deal of my time in the company of people who inspire me with the lives they lead, warm my soul with the stories they tell and humble me with the love that they send my way. I didn't really do much culinary preparation for my guests, but they were pleased nonetheless.

I made a really simple cream cheese danish (at least I think it's a danish!). All you do is put a pack or two of cream cheese & some sugar (1/4-1/2 cup) in a mixer and cream together. In the meantime you melt 1/2 a stick (or less) of butter or margarine. You take one tube of crescent rolls and lay the entire "sheet" of dough flat across a baking sheet, not pressing it flat or doing anything to it at all. You spread the cream cheese mixture on top and then pop open another tube of crescent rolls and lay it across the top, lightly pinching the edges of the bottom & top together. Pour melted butter across the top, sprinkle some cinnamon & sugar over it and pop it in the oven @ 350 for about 10-15 minutes, maybe more. It's done when the dough is cooked and a little brown around the edges.

For lunch we had leftovers I had made from the ingredients I never got around to using during my previous house guests:
A mix of sweet potato and black beans with spices and Kentucky-Creole eggplant pudding (a baked pudding, more like a custard or casserole) over a bed of spinach served with salsa, fresh cilantro and tortilla chips. Pretty yummy for a random combination pulled out of the frige!

While the wood stove kept us nice and warm for our meeting, the weather on Judy Branch became almost balmy by afternoon. To my disappointment, the ground was too moist to plant snap peas. Even so, I got in some garden time pulling up old milkweed skeletons and clearing out the remains of last year's garden.

The weekend was capped off with my Sunday session with Lee. This week I brought a visitor, my fellow Appalachian music fellow. I think Lee & Opal like having company as much as I do. Opal cooked us up a big dinner of green beans she had canned, cabbage, mashed potatoes and cornbread. I love Opal's cooking just about as much as I love Lee's banjo playing!

Sweet Solitude (Somewhat)

I really enjoy playing the role of hostess. I love to feed people home-cooked food, and I especially love to bring them out to Judy Branch for a few hours (or days) of retreat from that busy world that exists beyond this little hollow. This week I was in full hostessing mode, cooking enough food to feed about 12 people for five days. I didn't get to cook all the dishes I had hoped to make, but there was plenty of food. What I could prepare in advance of the company's arrival, I did last weekend. The rest I had to cook late nights after full days of work. Fortunately, I was in good company with Dom Flemmons as my house guest. He provided an impressive array of music to cook by, kept me awake with irresistable conversation and even helped me cook a bit. Most importantly, he kept me from over-working myself every night! Most of the time we sat around the kitchen table going through our music collections, geeking out full-force about our mutual musical obsessions.

Several other folks came out to Judy Branch last week, with "snow," or I suppose the idea of snow, cancelling several of the school and senior citizens events we had planned last week. We made the most of our free time to really get to know each other. Bella hit it off with Justin, and I think she's actually missing him a little now! By the end of the week, even Sid Vicious felt comfortable around the guests, sitting in the middle of a room full of people!

Company departed on Sunday, and Monday morning I drove to Berea to continue work on my fellowship. Usually I am a house guest when in Berea, but I opted to splurge on a hotel room for some much needed solitude and R&R. It was the best night's sleep I've gotten in over a week! As nice as it was to have a break from being around people, I know when I go back to Judy Branch tonight it will seem empty.

snowed in!

this week i made big busy plans for my visitors, but the weather interfered. it didn't really snow much, not even 1/2 an inch, but things like the senior citizens' lunch and school got cancelled. all those things we were going to do would have been loads of fun. but we had fun just the same being snowed in.

since school was cancelled, and thus all our work commitments until 6pm, we all pretended to be snowed in on judy branch yesterday. it was really cozy having company, eating brunch together, playing music, talking and watching movies.

it looks like we are going to have more of the same, weather-wise: snow flurries. i just hope they don't cancel the square dance tonight! why do people have to be such wimps about a little snow?!

Succotash

There are some combinations that are divine. I believe that succotash achieves this, no matter which manifestation. I've experienced many variations in my life, and there's not one that I've chosen as my standard. This week, for me and all those I'm feeding, succotash is made up from treasures found in my freezer: okra, corn & butter beans, cooked with fresh tomatoes & a habanera pepper (you poke it with a fork, throw it in with the mix while it stews and then take it out when it gets to the desired spiciness).

Another divine combination is chocolate and chili pepper (cayenne, or whatever your palate’s pleasure).

Oh, and I must also give a nod to fresh basil blended into hummus. Yum.

Want a full list of what I’ve cooked up so far for the week (for my lovely guests)?

2 pans of spinach lasagne
macaroni & cheese (made from scratch, except the noodles…)
2 pans of chocolate chip brownies
several pans of hot chocolate chocolate chip cookies
1 carrot cake
1 large bowl of basil hummus
1 vegan spice cake
1 big pot of succotash
1 vegan loaf of cornbread

What else might I cook up this week (during all that spare time)?

An interesting KY-Cajun Eggplant Dip I want to try
Vegetable stew
More cornbread (turns out the vegan guest actually will eat eggs)
Collard greens
Mashed turnips

My friend Blue Artichoke would be so proud of this Lil’ Birdie!

slow food

judy branch is a great place to hole up for the weekend, especially when it's cold outside. for all the marvels of electricity, you can't back up to central heat. i love my wood stove. what's even better is the location of the stove. my living room and kitchen are one big open space. this is great for evenings (or all day) at home. i can cook, listen to my stereo, even watch a movie, while the fire crackles in the stove and the critters lounge lethargic in its heat.

when i know that company is coming, even if it's just at work, my prep work starts at home. next week i'll be hosting quite a few musicians, artists and other guests. a quintessential southern trait that i've inherited from pretty much all the women in my family is that when company's coming, you cook. a lot. i mean a serious quantity of food, mostly the kind my mom, aunts, grandmas, great aunts, etc. taught me to make for company. before i can get around to the catering prep for the upcoming week, though, my somewhat abandoned house needed some attention.

last night i replaced the bag in the vacuum and waged war on the "halloween" beetles (they want you to think they are lady bugs, but they are not!). i realized that enough was enough when they seized my bedside lamp (imagine a lamp covered entirely with a layer of lady bug impersonators...) and would wake me up several times through the night crawling on my skin and biting me at will. for nearly half an hour my bedroom was free of those imposters. i don't know where the back up troops come from or why they feel a need to centralize forces around my bedside lamp and surrounding areas (the wall and ceiling above the left side of the bed). the only way to keep those buggers down to a nearly tolerable presence would be to vacuum every day. i'm not the only one who faces this dilemma. in fact, it is worthy of regular posting in my local newspaper's "Speak Your Piece" column.

i'm beginning to think these beetle bugs were intentionally let loose in the southern mountains by vacuum bag manufacturers. what do you think?

today bella went with me to do the old time radio show, and then i loaded up on groceries and came home. i practiced "black eyed susie" until my fingers hurt and i made a food list and schedule (what i'm making for next week, for which days/events and when i must make them). right now there are two spinach lasagnas in the oven that i can freeze for one of the meals next week. still on the list for this weekend: basil hummus, carrot cake, cayenne chocolate-chocolate chip cookies, brownies, carrot cake, cheese cake, lemon squares. looks like sunday is going to be a busy day! in addition to all that cooking, i've also got to practice the tunes lee taught me, prep the garden for planting peas (on valentines day!), go over to lee's for a banjo lesson in the afternoon. yipee!

Deadheads & Suckers

I'm not sure if it's a mountain, rural or generally an American thing, but I've always been more inclined to measure the distance between two places by how long it takes to get there, usually by driving. The drive from Judy Branch to Berea is approximately 2 and 1/2 hours. Part of living in the rural mountains is that you get used to spending quite a bit of time in the car. This has been my experience since I first started driving. In high school, a 40 minute drive to a good swimming hole was considered close or "local." Driving 30-45 minutes to get to work or a night out on the town was also considered close by. I guess that's why I've never had a problem with living at least half an hour from anywhere, and driving a couple of hours to get somewhere isn't really all that bad either.

Last night I stayed with my friend Deborah at her farm in Jackson County. I think it took about 45 minutes from Berea, maybe a little less. But the terrain really makes it seem much more in the middle of nowhere than Judy Branch. Even though I'm nestled in the heart of the Central Appalachian mountains, the roads really don't go up and down as many hills. They follow the rivers and creeks, and while winding and dotted with sharp curves nestled between a sheer drop into said creek on one side and a craggy cliff face on the other, you don't really have to go up and down much.

Deb has been a house guest on Judy Branch many times, and I knew from her descriptions of life on her farm that I'd feel right at home. What I really love about their place is all the work that they have put into the place to make it their home along with all the daily work they do to make a living from their home. While I garden and do a lot of those survival tasks of rural living, Deb and her husband Frank are really living off their land. They raise sheep, rabbits, hogs and chickens, which provide eggs, meat, hide and income. Their work crew includes horses, guard and hunting dogs and I'm sure a few other tennants that I haven't met yet. Inside are the two cats, Foscoe & Madeline (they sleep outside when it's not so cold) and a pen of quail. I had my first taste of quail eggs, hardboiled last night and fried this morning.

Frank & Deb had to convert the original house structure (a typical Appalachian flat board house that has been upgraded over the generations) to include indoor plumbing. The water is gravity fed to the house from a spring up the hill. For more consistent pressure, they've added a cistern and a water pump. What's handy is that when the power goes out, they can still get water fed by gravity. While I also have spring water from a well, it comes from underground and required a pump to get it to the house. So I'm out of luck when we lose power.

They have built on a high-ceiling log addition to the original house which makes for a fantastic living room, complete with a cozy futon covered in warm sheep skins.

One of my favorite rooms of Deb & Frank's place is the outhouse. Neighbor Billy Joe and I've talked about how in so many ways life was much easier before indoor plumbing. I know from Judy Branch how messed up indoor plumbing goes when it comes to toilets. You really have to make an effort to flush, and if it rains too much for too long the septic tank can get backed up, which is not at all pleasant. Those problems don't exist when you just use an outhouse. And they really have a nice one, well decorated with National Geographic photos and poems pasted all over the walls and door.

Last night Deb and I sat by the wood stove, and she taught me how to play "Black Eyed Susie." I brought her my copy of the Flat Mountain Girls CD, Honey Take Your Whiskers Off. They're an all-women old time band from Portland, OR, which play a rockin' version of the tune. I've let her borrow it today in hopes that she'll figure out how to play "Deadheads and Suckers," a tune they recorded and cited as Trad. Neither of us had ever heard of it, so I am now on a mission to find out more about the tune (and to learn how to play it!).

Today I'll head back to Judy Branch to prepare for a week with the Carolina Chocolate Drops. A week from Monday I'll return to the mysterious chiropractor (who, from my novice perspective seemed to ask a lot of questions of my arm... tho I think it was my brain channelling through my arm?). He's fixing me of my lactose intolerance and will hopefully ease some of my back pain (thus the root cause of seeking his help). I'll hold off on any detailed commentary until I've tried it out a few times.

The real icing on the cake will be that evening (Feb 19th), when I hope a big field trip of friends will join me and Deb to see the Chocolate Drops perform live on the famous Woodsongs Old Time Radio Hour at the Kentucky Theater with Folkboy himself, Michael Johnathon. Above is a picture from my last field trip to see friends Uncle Earl play on this legendary radio show. Is it because of the stellar musical guests that we make the Monday night pilgramage to Lexington? Is it to support our up & coming, "undiscovered" musician friends as they are introduced to an international audience? Or is it the personality of the host that draws us like ants to sugar? You decide and let me know.

crossing over

i remember years ago when a chiropractor located his office next door to my dad's office. that's when i learned that my dad thought that chiopractors were the modern day equivalent of a medicine show doctor. a total farce. at that time, i was a kid, and i had never even heard of chiropractors. even though i've never really had an opinion either way, i have for the most part kept the same attitude toward seeking chiropractic help as counselling (i was always told by the parents that i was "normal" or "just fine" and thus did not fall into the category of those who need pychological or emotional help).

since then, i've known more and more people who swear to the miracle of chiropractic adjustment and of seeing a counselor. at the age of 30, i am finally going to become one of those people... if all goes well today.

in about an hour, i will have my first chiropractic adjustment/session in hopes that the pain that has been shooting through my lower back and down through the muscles of my left leg since mid-november will be lessened.

this is new territory for me, and even though i am a full grown adult, it still sort of feels like an act of rebellion.

let's hope i get adjusted enough to be able to dance painlessly for days on end next week! who knows, if this chiropractic adventure turns out to be a success, i may get brave enough to ask someone to shrink my head!

cold, cold heart

valentine's day is on it's way, and mother nature is showing us her love with a winter embrace. the temperatures in eastern and central kentucky have been between 2-17 degress (that's -20 to -8 degrees C!). i hope my weekend will be spent having fun in the woods with a chainsaw and then with an axe splitting wood. one of the perks of living at the head of the hollow is that i'm surrounded on three sides by hills of forest. not too far up the path, there are several downed trees that are awaiting their afterlife as firewood. as my woodpile hastily depletes during these cold nights, i give thanks to all those trees who succumbed to gravity last fall. i also give thanks to friends with chainsaws. perhaps if i am really nice and provide delicious food and refreshing beverages (post-chainsawing phase), i will be able to charm said friend into also splitting the wood so that it fits in my stove.

we all know that valentine's day is a modern invention that is now a huge marketing scam. even so, that marketing reminds us all of how our own love lives don't fit into that picture perfect, big screen romance we've been fed most of our lives. the important thing to remember is that love encompasses so much more than romance. i think that valentine's day should be about showing yourself some love and then letting that spill over into all the other relationships in your life. and eating lots of chocolate. let's face it, most of us are far too hard on ourselves. i will celebrate valentines day in several ways, many which will include pampering myself. one of the first things on my agenda is to go see a chiropractor about the pain in my back and left leg that i've had since mid-november (handling fire-wood is a dangerous business).

the other way i will shower myself with love is with the music and company of some of my favorite musicians, the carolina chocolate drops. i met these fantastic folks last spring, although i remember seeing them around at the Black Banjo Gathering a year or so earlier. then we all taught workshops at Common Ground on the Hill this summer, and I got a chance to take a dance class with them. all this led to talks about how we needed to plan a residency at appalshop. next week it's all going to happen, and i'm really excited! although i am breaking the rules a little by talking about work-related matters, i feel that this is more a labor of love. i don't know how many folks will make it out to the public events, including three delicious evenings of desserts and dancing (wednesday 2/14, friday 2/16 & saturday 2/17), but i know that it will be a week to remember. the full scheudle is on my work website.

now i must return my focus to listening to tapes from 1974's celebration of traditional music. currently flowing through my earphones, artus and joan moser (before that it was J.P., Annalee & Danielle Fraley).

enjoying the now

it has been a real challenge to fully immerse myself into this new phase of my life. the schedule i had set out for balancing my fellowshop and work keeps getting disrupted. a big part is the responsibilities i feel at home. i don't want to leave bella sleeping on the porch on subzero winter nights. the other distractions has been work. i'm only supposed to give one day a week to that place, but last week took three. i'm taking a stand right now. i will not give any more of myself to my job than one day per week. that's all i'm getting paid for, and that's all i can handle (on several levels).

traveling back and forth from berea, taking spontaneous road trips and musing about what other adventures might await me... these have all really driven in my determination to move on and find a new life somewhere else. i really am ready to move on. i just need to figure out where. prefereably a place that has the following:

people who play old time music
a good place to get a beer (legally, in public)
a significant population 25-40 years old (esp of the eligible bachelor variety)
a good coffeehouse
live music (of the non-jam band genres, please)
hills and the great outdoors

for now, i'm going to enjoy the now and look forward to the upcoming journey to poland. anyone want to meet up in prague sometime in june? i'll be nearby...

Chicago?!

I wasn't home but a few days from my Northwest adventures until it was time to get back on the road. The plan was to drive twice a week, staying two nights in Berea for my music fellowship. A brilliant plan really, because it gave me four days in the music archives while allowing me five nights at home with the critters. There was one major oversight: It is now Winter. While it's been rather mild up until now, I believe that my travel plans gave Old Jack Frost the inspiration he needed to visit Kentucky.

But what, you may ask, does this have to do with Chicago?! Well... the weather set into snowing Wednesday night, discouraging me from driving to Berea on Thursday and inspiring me to instead drive to Morehead on Thursday night with co-adventurer Julie to catch a 6 AM caravan to Chicago. Boy, oh boy am I ever grateful for that cold snap, because did I ever have such a time as I did in the windy city! There's nothing better to cure the winter blues than a spontaneous roadtrip to an unfamiliar city to spend an entire weekend in the company of friends listening to music, eating city food, visiting, making new friends and keeping warm with driving jam sessions and refreshing beverages. I feel revived!

The characters in this story are really what make it a story I'll always remember. Almost all my favorite Kentucky friend plus many of my favorite old time pals: the fabulous Foghorns, Dirk Powell, Travis Stuart, Riley Baugus, Martha Scanlan, Ellie Grace. The circumstances were that I was feeling a bit depressed, lonely and bored after returning home from the recent Northwest adventures. I had been muddling for awhile on the idea that I might catch a ride up to Chicago with said Kentucky friends-the Clack Mountain Stringband- who had a gig to play with Portland/Foghorn friends and the Dirk Powell Band (the crazy bunch that played the Masquerade Ball here in October) at the Old Town School of Folk. In my exhaustion post-Northwest adventures, I had pretty much written off the earlier thoughts of caravaning with the Clack Mountain crew for a raucous weekend in the big city. But something clicked, Brett Ratliff in all his wisdom asked "What better reason could you have to go to Chicago?" and the rest is history. I'll write more details about the weekend once I get caught up on sleep. I will tell you that I learned an important lesson from this weekend. Don't talk yourself out of doing something fun and adventurous with friends because you "just feel like hanging out at home."

Cat Power

Even though Portland tried to delay my flight home with a snow storm, I made it back to Judy Branch without delay. The critters all seemed glad to have me back, and I suspect they ganged up on me in my sleep and gave me a nasty head cold so I'd have to stay home with them instead of going into work. Despite the violent sneezes and the runny nose that feels like a leaky faucet, I have enjoyed being a homebody for these few days, nesting inside away from the cold winter winds. After two weeks in constant company, it was a bit strange to not see another human being for several days at a time!

Tomorrow I begin my fellowship work, which means I must once again enter the company of other humans and that I have an early drive to Berea.

I had to pull myself away from my new banjo and blog so that I can get to bed in time to get at least a few hours sleep before I start this new phase of my life.

That said, this is going to be a short entry. I'll write more about my banjo and new adventures soon.

sound advice

i just love my portland friends. they're so neat.

since in portland i have:
+enjoyed a night of music at the moon among friends
+eaten yummy cuban food
+spent hours surrounded by books
+assisted on a shopping trip to a "hip" portland grocery store
+partook in an evening of cooking and wine-drinking adventure
+sewn wool ?s onto neck ties
+played scrabble until i could barely keep my eyes open
+watched sleet fall over the chinese classical gardens while warming myself in a tea house
+happened upon (and into) two really amazing art exhibits at the portland art center: "the other portland: art & ecology in the 5th quadrant" & "Second Skin"
+gave a lucky marble to one of the coolest kids on the planet
+scored a ukrainian cookbook
+"networked" with really amazing arts professionals and was given some really great insight
+had 2 billion moments of yearning for bella (bella would LOVE this walk; look, bella and i could go there; i've eaten so much good food & i hate to waste what's left on my plate, i wish bella was here to help me; bella is SO much cooler than that dog...)

now it's off to the airport to pick up rich & julie. but first i must impart the wonderful advice a sage imparted upon me: with every important life decision, ask yourself the following:

what do i need & want: professionally, personally and creatively.

Oh the wind & the rain!

I'm nearing a week in the great Pacific Northwest. As soon as the jet landed in Portland last Wednesday, I picked up my rental car and sped northward to Seattle, specifically the old Victorian house on Capital Hill shared by Tiffany, Larry, Bella (the cat), Luna, Heinz and Mazzie. One of my select home away from homes, I always enjoy returning for long visits. On this trip, Tiffany and I managed to get out of the city and head out to Port Townsend and Fort Worden State Park. We got a late start and conquered many challenges to get there including a tumultuous ferry ride (Tiffany was recovering from a stomach bug), a hail storm and directions that never would have gotten us to where we wanted to go. Even so, we arrived as the clouds parted and the sun began to set. Absolutely breath taking! The park is an old army fort that the state has transformed into Centrum, an arts and creative learning center and host to the Festival of American Fiddle Tunes. Centrum's Peter McCracken gave us a quick tour and took a picture of us in front of our dream castle by the sea. Tiffany and I took turns nearly getting blown over by the wind while attempting to take photos. I loved how the waves crashed against the coastline and the view of the Cascade Mountains across the water.

The rest of my time in Seattle was spent well within the city, and I got my fill of night life and "exotic" food (i.e. any food that isn't frozen and then deep fried in fat). We wanted to go see the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit at the Pacific Science Center, but it was SOLD OUT. Isn't that crazy? I didn't know that museum exhibits could sell out, but apparently they can... days in advance. This was a first for the Pacific Science Center, and we were all disappointed that we missed the exhibit. As an alternative, we paid a visit to the Seattle Aquarium, which features all Pacific Northwest wildlife. My favorite critters were the sea otters, seals and the octopus. There were also a handful of strange looking fish that also stole my heart. I had been wanting to eat fresh sea food while in the city, but couldn't bring myself to do so after the aquarium.

Yesterday I headed southbound to Portland, arriving in time to partake in what is becoming a Portland tradition: Sunday supper at Pambiche with Rebecca. What better way to warm up on a rainy winter night than over decadent Cuban food in an overly-warm, brightly decorated cafe? I also felt it was fitting to begin my visit by catching up with Rebecca one-on-one. It was a nice change of pace from my November visit. Also part of the tradition is the end the night at the Moon & Six Pence where the Foghorn boys drink beer and play tunes. As always, it was great to catch up with those rowdy musicians, and I'm pleased to hear that they just might make it back to Judy Branch within the next year! What's even better is that I've recruited Kevin to help with the cooking! There are many things I love about the Moon, but I guess my top three are: 1. It really has the feeling of a pub (not many American bars can pull off that subtle, cozy atmosphere) 2. It has the best bartender in the world, who makes the most wonderful Spanish coffees in the world 3. At least once a week I can find my five favorite guys sitting around some tables, playing tunes and telling tales.

Tomorrow I will explore, once more, Powell's City of Books in search of Polish-esque materials (language instruction, literature, travel guides, cookbooks).

Blessed

I am feeling very blessed, and it's keeping me awake on the eve before my big trip. It's after midnight, and in about 4 hours, my dad is giving me a lift to the airport. But there's been so much to do before I leave. Like practicing the new tunes I learned from Lee on Saturday, catching a little TV time (a must-do when I'm at the parents house!), and blogging! Not to mention all the marvelling I must do at the blessings in my life, especially those coming from or being shared with the people in my life. Faerie Godmother gifted me with a wonderful send-off in the comments from my last entry. What better mantra for embarking on this journey? Roll em, Roll em....

Yesterday I drove down to my hometown in TN and had a full day of catching up with friends. First with fiddlin' Sarah at a New Year's party where several other old and more recent friends showed up to eat black eyed peas and greens, huddle around the bonfire and play a few tunes. Then there was a dinner date with Blue Artichoke (best pal since third grade and partner in exploring the world- well, east berlin and poland so far- by backpack) that ended with us closing down the restaurant and then sitting in the parking lot for another hour catching up. We could have used a couple of days to catch up on everything, but she needed an early night and I needed to catch up with my friend Jennifer (remember, I helped her drive a u-haul to NYC?) on her last night in town. She and I had a great rendezvous/ speedy catch-up session that revealed we are both on the same plane going into the new year: stay positive, stay happy, stay open, appreciate all that you have and everything else will fall into place. Or something like that. I'll get the exact wording on here later (we wrote it down, but don't know where in the mess of all my packing). The cool thing is that we are both feeling a lot more hopeful and positive and have ambitions to keep ourselves on that kick.

Could it be that Lil' Birdie finally caught those feelings that are supposedly wrapped up in the "New Year?" I certainly am feeling that there's hope for good things to happen, even in the face of global warming, etc. etc. etc. I even feel that there's possibility for love, which was reaffirmed when a friend from the past who when I last saw him was going through a real rough heartbreak showed up at the New Year's day gathering with one of the most lovely, wonderful women I have ever met. Hell yeah! It was one of small things in life that you don't expect to make such an impression on you. That those two people found each other, however long the connection may last, just warmed my heart.

It is now 1 AM and I should at least take a little kip before I go to the airport. Tomorrow's a big day. Fly to Portland, drive to Seattle. Hang with Sister Tiffany for four and a half days. Roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em Rawhide!

Homebody

The hoidays, for many, are a season of travel, shopping and socializing. I, for the most part, have managed to avoid all three. Although I did travel to TN to visit my granny for xmas, I have spent minimal time on shopping or socializing. The most socializing I have done has been with my Granny over the Xmas weekend. She and I have been best of friends since I was in college. We're both night owls, and we share the habit of staying up into the early hours of the morning just keeping each other company. Sometimes we talk the whole time, other times we just sit together doing our own things - reading newspapers, doing the crossword, etc. It's really a great way to wind down the day. Besides that time I lived in Scotland, Judy Branch is the farthest I've ever lived from my Granny, and I hate that I don't get to visit her more often.

Besides the one diversion to visit Granny, I've been happily hiding away on Judy Branch. Not that I've been alone. With great neighbors like Bill & Billy Joe and a motley host of critters (dogs, cats, horses, cows and other...), there's plenty of company to be had here. I've been hunkering down and being a homebody in the wake of a season of travel. Tomorrow it all begins, and I am soaking up as much Judy Branch as I can before I light off. I will be equipped with a laptop on this round of travels, so I may actually be able to keep up with my blogging.

Until then...

Empty Nest Syndrome

This winter and spring will bring forth new adventures for this little bird, many that require me to flee my cozy nest for days, weeks and even a month at a time. Those of you who know me even a little know that I have a traveling gypsy soul. I LOVE to go places. But equal to that love for journeys abroad is my love for nesting. Seems like contradictory, but that's just how I am. Full of contradictions.

I am getting geared up for another visit to the Great Northwest in advent of my Appalachian music fellowship starting mid-January. I managed to secure some travel $$$ from work, which means this time I'll be equipped with a traveling device (a car). I plan to head up to Washington for a week and whisk sister Tiffany away from Seattle to explore the Olympic peninsula. Namely, I want to check out Port Townsend, the home of Centrum and the site of the Festival of American Fiddle Tunes. It's located in Fort Worden State Park, which is only a short ferry ride from Seattle. January may not be the most ideal time of the year for a visit, but I'm not the type to let cold, gray, rainy days hinder my desire to explore! To the shock of my Scottish friends, I returned (a year or so after attending Uni there) for a month-long visit in January. Short, damp days are still good days to me when I'm in Scotland!

Another reason for my visit is to spend quality time with my Portland friends, attend the Portland Old Time Gathering, and pick up my new banjo: "The Little Birdie Special."

I am incredibly excited to embark on this journey but also a little reluctant. Well, "reluctant" isn't really the word to describe it. What I want is to slow down the next week, perhaps expanding it into two weeks so I can get my nest in order before I dive full-speed into six months of a dizzying dance of balancing three different archival research gigs, a banjo apprenticeship, my job (yes, I am still working, supposedly "part-time"), a trip to Poland and preparations to finance my career after I return from Poland. Yikes. Very exiting, but I fear it will all whoosh by and leave me even more unkempt and disoriented than usual. If I am to keep up with the small, ordinary pleasures that really keep me alive-- gardening, cooking, writing and romance (when the opportunity arises)--then I must develop a more advanced system of multi-tasking than the one I currently use.

My current plan of preparation is to get my spring cleaning done this week. I figure if I can at least de-clutter my nest in winter it will make life much easier when spring rolls around. Plus it gives me a valid excuse for staying home instead of going into work, which I really ought to avoid as much as possible (seeing as I'm still not able to pay myself!). As I work on my nest I will ever so often repeat the following mantra: "Part-time gives Me time, part-time gives ME time...."

being festive is Exhausting

Celebrating the season where I live and with the company I keep can be hazardous to one's health. Although I have not actually come down with severe illness, I'm certain that in my weak condition I am susceptible to all sorts of bugs.

Activists, artists and old time musicians really are artful... at pushing the physical and psychic limits of the mere human soul. They work hard, and they celebrate and play even harder. I got my fill of both, in the form of serving as secretary at two board meetings, attending to a cast of crazy munchkins at three youth theater performances and participating in at least three holiday celebrations, a square dance and a hog killing over the past week. Today, as a special treat, I rewarded myself by crunching numbers all day at work! I think that is what did me in. For me, understanding non-profit budgets is about as easy as reading Russian. Actually, I'd say Russian makes much more sense.

I am comforted to be spending a quiet evening on Judy Branch. Bella seems to have also had an exhausting day. She came in, gobbled down her supper and went straight to bed. My supper was pretty good: leftover mashed turnip/lentil/squash pie. (I'll reveal the recipe in a later entry) Rosie had a rough day too, because she got locked in the study all day. She must have snuck in this morning and I didn't notice when I closed the door before leaving for work. She and Sid Vicious are now out in the woods hunting while I am trying to figure out if it is worth applying to graduate school for a second time (already have a masters...). If so, is it really worth having to take the damn GRE again?! I think I'll just draw a bath, pour a glass of wine and not think about it tonight. I mean, the applications won't be due until January.... Ho, ho ho!

Cold Enough to Kill a Hog

This weekend the temperatures dropped into single digits at night. It's the kind of weather for hog killings in the mountains. And that's just what my friends Julie & Shawn did this weekend. Now, I am for the most part vegetarian, because I could never bring myself to kill an animal. Except for fish. So I don't refrain from eating them. (Although I still fill a bit sad about it sometimes. I'm a sentimental wimp.)

Even though I couldn't stomach the actual killing of the poor pigs (there were two), I do appreciate the big social gathering that is a hog killing. I deciding to pitch in by bringing some of the last of the garden goodies to help feed all the folks who gathering to help with the butchering, etc.

I must say that turnips are now giving beets a run for their money in my book. Just like beets, they are simply beautiful to look at. They are the kind of vegetable that is deserving of a still life painting or a portrait. The white bulbous root, braised with a magenta-pink and topped with curled, dark green leaves. The pleasure you get from admiring this plant is almost equal to the pleasure you can get from eating it!

I brought two kinds of turnip greens to the hog killing. Actually, I did a mix of turnip and curly mustard greens. One dish was vegetarian, the other seasoned with andouille sausage from Eunice, Louisiana. The trick to cooking really good, southern-style greens is to really cook them for a long time. Here's what I do (for the veggie-version, just don't use sausage):

*Rinse greens well, roughly chop them and put in a large pot with water. Cover and bring to a boil. Lower heat just enough to continue boiling; stir occasionally.
* In a skillet, sauté onion, garlic and andoille until browned. Add to greens.
* Add salt, black pepper, Tony Chachere's seasoning, a dash or two of cayenne pepper and a few dashes of Bragg's Liquid Aminos (your can substitute Tamari or Soy sauce) and let simmer for a hour or more.

In my book, greens taste best when they nearly melt in your mouth. My mom insists (as do I) that you should never disregard the juices when eating greens, because, that's where the best flavor and the nutrients are. It's called pot-likker, and there is no shame in licking the remains of a good pot of greens! A great way to enjoy greens is to eat them with the other half of the plant... turnips! Mashed turnips are sort of like mashed potatoes, but better. And they are perfect for soaking up the juices from your greens, especially when they are partnered with cornbread. Here's the way I like to fix turnips:

*Clean and peel turnip roots. I don't typically peel the entire turnip, but just peel off the stringy root parts. Chop into large cubes.
*Clean, peel and cube one or two small potatoes (yellow or gold). I recommend using one small potato for every four or five medium to large turnips (a large turnip is about the size of a baseball). You want a lot more turnips than potatos.
* Put turnips and potatoes in a saucepan with water, a dash of olive oil and salt and boil until soft
*Peel and chop garlic to your liking (I like a lot)
*Drain turnips/potatoes and mix together with butter (for Vegan, use Earth Balance or a butter substitute), garlic and a little salt to taste. I prefer to use a mixer, but you can do this easily by hand.

If you've never given turnips a chance, try cooking them like this. I think it just may convert you to the cult of turnip-love. I can happily say that I belong to this cult, in addition, of course to being a member of the church of beet-love.

Note to self: Next year, quadruple the amount of beets and turnips in garden. I'm talking early spring and fall crops, both more than twice the amount I grew this year!

Down In the Basement

Tonight it is supposed to get down to about 10 degrees. As Bella and I were inside, warming ourselves by the fire, I couldn't help but feel guilty about how comfortable we were compared to the Judy Branch pack huddled in a big furry bundle on the porch. I know that they have fur, and they've survived many winters outside. But I just couldn't get them out of my mind.

So... I invited them all-Frankie Mophead, Bingo, Lucy, Monkey and Sally- into the basement for a sleepover! It's not as warm as upstairs, but it sure beats sleeping in subzero temperatures on a porch dusted with snow.

The process of getting the dogs into the basement was a bit confusing to everyone (my own critters included), because I carried or led them one at a time through the living room and down the steps to the basement. They were incredibly excited by the whole operation. They soon settled in, tails a-wagging, and formed nests on the various bean bags, mats and pillows I fixed up for them.

Sweet dreams to the Judy Branch Pack.

Larry Sparks = Snow

Every year Larry Sparks comes to play a concert for WMMT in December. And every year, without fail, it snows the day of his arrival. Do you think it's coincidence?! I sure as heck don't. Being a sucker for conspiracy theories, the bizarre and the world of the supernatural, I have several ideas about why this must happen. Perhaps Larry Sparks is Kris Kringle. Or perhaps he controls the weather. I could imagine that Larry has some kind of super-human powers. Can you imagine Larry Sparks as Santa Claus?

Today is the day of the Larry Sparks concert.

There had been talk about snowfall after midnight, but I got up this morning to find that no snow had fallen. I continued on with morning activities, opening the blinds, feeding the critters, making coffee. I should mention that today is also Ms. Faerie Godmother's birthday. She spent the night out on Judy Branch last night, and we enjoyed a cozy night warmed by the fire. We made hot chocolate chocolate chip cookies (with cayenne pepper), drank tea, did some art (card making).

This morning I built up a fire and cooked breakfast for the birthday Queen. By the time we sat down to eat breakfast, the sky had darkened dramatically. I LOVE that about snow. The sky always gives you fair warning that snow is on the way. So does the air. You can taste it when you go outside and feel it in your bones. It starting with flurries a few hours ago. At first it looked like it wasn't going to stick, but then, in a very short spell of time, the ground and tree branches are covered with a light dusting of snow. Now it is snowing, snowing, snowing. Those tiny little flakes that look like they won't add up to much, but always collect more rapidly than big fluffy flakes.

I've kept the fire stoked up most of the day so that Bella, Sid Vicious and Rosie and I can enjoy a day at home watching the snow collect on the trees. I finshed putting together a big thank you package for my super-host & hostess portland friends, and now I'm trying to figure out how to convince myself that I should leave Judy Branch and actually do something today. I'm tempted to just bake more cookies, drink tea and play my banjo by the wood stove....

watch your step

cats are legendary for their ability to balance on almost any surface and to always land on their feet. but isn't funny that they have very little concept of what constitutes a stable surface for footing? my desk is a continuous entertainment zone when it comes to cat watching. there are all sorts of loosely stacked objects (papers, books, cds) that easily slip under a cat paw, sending both cat and stacked objects flying.

i've been enjoying a sunday morning of talk radio. ever since i moved to kentucky, my main "company" at home has been the radio. if and when i ever leave this place, i think i will miss my favorite radio station,WMMT , nearly as much as i'll miss judy branch.

i have been feeling much more hopeful and alive recently. i'm certain it is because of the temporary relief from the weighty stresses of an uncertain future and unknown potential income. i can rest easy knowing that i'm taken care of for at least a few months. and, as yesterday's old time jam reminded me, i will always be taken care of on the frontiers of music and friendships. i'm excited about diving into new projects and spending more focused time listening to and learning the music that has been such a central part of my life.

luthier friend brooks called to let me know that the little birdie special has begun to come to life! the neck is being built from the wood of an indiana oldtimer's work bench. i am hopeful that the folks sending me to poland will help me buy a touring case for her so that i can carry her with me on my journey. or maybe i'll play it safe and take my first banjo, the art stamper. i suppose i've got time to think on it! in preparation for the poland journey, i am netflixing films by polish filmmakers. last night's feature: Blind Chance, directed by Krzysztof Kieslowski.

How Many Hours in a Day?

My dad, along with a few close friends, ever so often tries to remind me that there are only 24 hours in a day.

I go through spurts when I try to fit as many possibilities into one day, hour, week (or any given time period) as possible. It isn't something I premeditate. In fact, it's almost instinctual. Or could it be habitual? All I know is that any logical and self-preserving side of my brain becomes overwhelmed with a sense of urgency that I must do A, B, C, D & ...... NOW. Simultaneously, if at all possible.

I am not sure where this instinct is rooted, or, if it is a habit, how it was formed. I had a lot of friends die before reaching 30 (hell, even 21), and I know that probably planted a "life is short and uncertain; live while you can" panic button deep in my soul. even so... i'm not sure why i put myself through this manic pattern: run, run, run until my body, mind and/or psyche force me to collapse.

today is a prime example of what i often do to myself (note: this is in no way meant to be a reflection of a "typical day" in my life. it is meant to reflect an overall pattern i keep repeating). i started my day when my alarm went off at 3:45 AM. my banjo mentor and friend, lee sexton, was having a cataract removed from his eye, and he needed a lift to the pikeville hospital. his appointment was at 6:45 AM, which meant i had to pick him up at his house at 4:45 to get him there on time. it is now 10:22 PM. i did a lot of other things today besides driving to the hospital and back, including an attempt to help neighbor bill figure out/troubleshoot the screwy lighting in my basement, writing reports/proposals, directing a kids' theater rehearsal and meeting with several different people about several different projects. the details are fuzzy, and i am resisting sleep because of this insane sense of urgency that i need to do this and that and something about getting quotes on banjo cases and/or travel banjos b/c someone might buy me a banjo for my trip to poland....

a part of me wants to keep going going going and following up on all these connections, ideas, etc. and that part of me doesn't seem to realize that there's a tomorrow. i really like this part of me. she's the kind of person you'd want to hitchhike around the world with. my sleepless gypsy. but somehow i've got to teach her the delicate art of pace and space.

the pace i'm thinking of is yoga-esque slow breathing pace. iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnn............ and ooooooouuuuuuuuuut........
the space i'm thinking of is the soft, multi-layered blissful nest that is my bed.

Blue Bird

When I first moved into my house on Judy Branch, I found a dead blue bird in my wood stove. Who knows how long its little body had been there. Even more disturbing is to think of how long it was trapped inside that ash-filled box before it finally died.

Yesterday, I prevented that fate from falling upon another bird. I woke to hear rustling from the living room and soon discerned the sound was coming from the stove. I was relieved to find that the bird was trapped in the actual stove and not the pipe. Her chances of survivial were much better this way, and I wouldn't have to worry about if it was worth burning out a birds nest to keep warm at night! Cat Rosie was standing on her back legs with her nose and front paws squished up to the glass window. The bird, understandably, looked like it had lost all hope of surviving this. I mean, even if it did manage to miraculously get out through that window, there was a big nasty cat ready to make bird meat out of her! What a horrible morning she must have been having.

I grabbed a dish cloth, shooed the cat away from the stove door, and gently scooped the little bird out and held her close to my breast. She didn't move. Outside I was greeted by an unseasonably warm, sunny morning. I gently placed my dishcloth swaddle on the potting table and unwrapped the little bird. What the gloom and the ashes inside the stove had prevented me from seeing was a brilliant blue breast and honey maple tipped wings. She uprighted herself, rustled her feathers and immediately flew off beyond sight.

cutting the apron strings

there are some people that you can be "stuck" with 24 hours a day for several days and never tire of each other's company. i rarely put myself in that situation, and i'm always shocked when i discover that i have spent a significant amount of time in another's company without feeling a strong desire for solitude or escape. a recent trip with my parents required 24-7 companionship for four days. within the first few hours i began to feel an intense desire for alone time.

disclaimer:
i have always been fortunate to have parents that i respect, love and consider friends.

reality check:
a positive relationship and mature friendship with the parents requires we each have plenty of personal space away from each other.

i am relieved to be back home on judy branch. i got back in time to catch the last dance of the cowan creek mountain music school's fall gathering. all the road-weariness dissipated the moment i entered the community center, greeted by old friends and the sounds of square dancing and old time music. i jumped into the band at the next set, playing julianne johnson for twenty minutes. just the cure i was looking for! when i got home i had an urge to call an old friend who has been living in wyoming for several years. was excited that she will flying into south carolina in a few weeks. we have planned a rendezvous at hot springs. cabin is rented, hot tubs will be there for soaking, and we'll have two days to catch each other up on the last five or six years.

today bella and the judy branch pack and i enjoyed unseasonably warm weather as we walked around the holler and up onto cemetery hill to visit the horses and the spirits of judy branch.

other news is that my friend learned that the coal company is making plans to strip mine all the property on her creek. she’s called out the cavalry and is preparing for a big fight. probably the biggest fight of her life. she's been building herself a house for the past three years or more, and now that is all threatened. not to mention a long family history on that land. she told me that this is a time when you really appreciate all the friends you have. as one of those friends, we'll do whatever we can to stop it. so if i get arrested for civil disobedience, you'll know why. it's ironic, maybe even psychic that i started re-reading edward abbey's classic last week.

satisfaction

the following have brought me to the day's end with a satisfied mind:
throwing/stacking a big old truckload of firewood after a long day's work
a walk and a wrestling match with my somewhat speckled dog, bella (who can jump at least five feet straight up)
an evening out on line fork playing banjo and visiting with lee
the warmth of a wood fire on a chilly night
leftover homemade borscht
news that there is an elephant sanctuary not too far from my home town
knowing that in two days i'll be down in south mississippi visiting with relatives that i haven't seen for nearly a decade and/or have maybe never even met
the promise of a hot bubble bath followed by a bed pre-warmed by two slumbering cats and a dog
mmmmm

feeding the woodshed

now that i have had a few days back home on judy branch, i have caught up on my sleep and other necessary home life tasks. among those tasks is making use of remaining garden goods, which at present are: mustard greens, turnip greens, cilantro, mescalin mix and beets. i think a few carrots and several broccoli plants may produce before winter sets in, but they are still rather young, so we'll see.

this afternoon i pulled out a recipe i've been wanting to try for months. whole beet borscht. another recipe from laurel's kitchen that uses the entire beet rather than just the root or the leaf. a bonus of this recipe was that i got to use the grating disc on my cuisinart, a "new technology" that i am proud to have mastered! i fed that nifty machine beet roots, potatos and carrots, and within seconds i had several cups of brightly colored, slimy (bloody beets!) vegetable shreds. i still managed to stain my hands and cutting boards, but they are all a much lighter shade of magenta than they would have been if i'd grated the old fashioned way!

i got some fantastic news this week: i got the appalachian music fellowship, which means i'll get to spend the winter listening to archival music recordings and producing a radio series. it also means that i can finally order a fretless banjo, which i did this weekend. brooks , one of my new portland friends, is a talented luthier, so i called and asked him to make me a banjo. when he first returned my call, he left a message saying that i was probably out chopping firewood and that's why i didn't hear my phone. he was almost right. i was out collecting firewood for the night!

which gets me to another another important task achieved this weekend: replinishing the woodshed. this has been a challenging task because it requires a truck. you see, the kentucky mountains are different from tennessee and carolina mountains when it comes to firewood. when i lived in north carolina, there were many people i could call upon to purchase a cord (truckload) of firewood, delivered to my house. here in kentucky, it is near impossible to find firewood for sale, and if you do, it is a DIY system (you come load it up yourself). fortunately, the lack of a firewood market is because everyone usually has a stockpile of firewood from their land, and often they have plenty to spare. for the past two years some friends and fellow WMMT deejays who live near blackey have given me free firewood by the truckload. really good stuff, too. even so, my lack of a truck has delayed the collection of their generous offering for about 2 months. today neighbor bill lent me his truck, which is the biggest truck i have ever driven in my life. i steered it 8 miles down one lane roads (ok, 1/2 mile was on a two lane!) and over a small mountain to civil war gap, near carcassonne. i had to wait until about 5 in the evening so they would be back from doing their radio show. we loaded up the truck in the fading light while light snow began to fall. they invited me in for a cup of coffee and a piece of stack cake before i navigated the 8 miles back home. i'll unload it all tomorrow before i go to work. this evening, i'll enjoy my borscht and cornbread and then practice up on my banjo by the fire.

tomorrow evening i have another banjo lesson with lee, and i hope to pick up another couple of tunes to practice up on over the thanksgiving holidays.

Sleepless in Cedar Rapids

Even in Iowa I have become a master of surviving on very little sleep. Coffee and alcohol help (in moderation, of course!)

Although the Cedar Rapids trip was work related, I'm willing to write about it here, because this trip/work transcends my current workplace and is really more related the bigger picture of my "career," if that is what it is to be.

What brought be to Iowa, you may be wondering? It was the National Performance Network(NPN)annual meeting, of which my workplace/organization is a partner.I've been representing my organization at these meetings for the past three years. The NPN is an amazing network of arts presenting organizations and artists from across the U.S. that is intentionally diverse on every level imaginable. When I first started going to the meetings I was totally overwhelmed, but this year I really felt engaged and at the center of what was going on. Imagine a gathering of approximately 200 perfoming artists and arts presenters (mainly grassroots and social change leaning) in one place together for four days. Insane amounts of creativity were bouncing all through Cedar Rapids. So much, in fact, that I was able to battle 3+ weeks' sleep deprivation/exhaustion, jet lag, homesickness, post 30 bday shock and a nasty bloody cold to get into all kinds of great social and professional goodness. Meetings and networking at every hour imaginable. Performances interspersed throughout with full out showcases/performances every night. Following by more improptu arts sharing/jamming/networking.

A list has been started of artists (of every walk of life and from multiple locales) who are incredibly curious and enthusiastic about visiting my little workplace and spending a few days out on Judy Branch. My reply: "Y'all come!"

Even though I went into the meeting with some exhausted, burnt out work dread, I am leaving it reinvigorated, inspired AND, most importantly, with a PLAN. I have reminded by my wonderful colleagues that I belong to a larger, vibrant world/network filled with people I have been forming friendships with for nearly four years. Friends who want to see me grow and prosper and (drum roll...) be HAPPY. What a concept! I'm returning home from Cedar Rapids with great contacts and leads for my transition onto the next great adventure. Many doors have been unlocked, and the next year I'll be working on opening doors through my friendships in this beautiful network. Plus, I was asked to take a leadership position for the Southern Region partners, which, among more good times with colleagues, I'll be attending NPN Board meetings in New Orleans throughout the next year! I always love to spend time in the Gulf, especially if in good company (and the NPN staff are some of the best company to be in).

Between Portland and NPN, I have banked up on positive connections, gathering many keys and have begun to make a plan. The plan: ONE year until the big move. Right now, I think it may be Portland. But I'm keeping my options open. ONE year to make the change. One year to keep my head above water and focus on what's ahead.

I think I deserve a reward: SLEEP!