I say "part one of many" because it's only November! It is Sunday, the fourth day of the long holiday weekend, and we are indoors, unable to go anywhere due to freezing rain. Indoors, as in 512 square feet of living space in three rooms for two adults and three kids. It's gray and dark outside. Insanity is setting in.
I have already played my mandolin, and I might get it or another instrument out before too long. I'm going through all of my old music, the stuff I worked on when I was taking lessons at the Homestead Pickin' Parlor in Minneapolis years ago. I remember a lot of it, and I was getting into some good blues licks. However, it seems that the more I practice, the more I realize how far I have to go before I'm at the playing level I would like to be. I know I need to just get over that and have fun with the music.
Calvin got out the Baby Taylor ( a small size guitar, good for kids or traveling) last night and although he doesn't play any chords yet, he has an amazing sense of rhythm, especially for the blues. I'll teach him some notes some time soon but for now I think it's important that he has some fun with the rhythm.
I took the time to sew a patch on my favorite flannel shirt today. The shirt is over ten years old, and fraying at the edges of the sleeves, but I'm not ready to give it up! This was the shirt I wore for the cool nights at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival, the shirt I could wear all through my pregnancies because it's huge, the shirt I wore on the way to the hospital to give birth to all of my babies. It's dark green and blue, kind of a muted plaid, and soft. Nothing could ever replace it. Now it has a light blue denim patch on one elbow; that's the best I could find for a patch, but it will do.
We're cooking a turkey for dinner, a real turkey, not the turkey loaf we had for Thanksgiving dinner. And after that there will be turkey noodle soup, turkey enchiladas, maybe some turkey wild rice soup.
The bird feeder is hopping with the usual chickadees, nuthatches, goldfinches, pine siskins, purple finches, and an occasional downy or hairy woodpecker. There is one male downy woodpecker that is a creature of habit; he sits at the same corner of the feeder every time, and instead of eating the new suet cake on the other side of the feeder he pecks at the old piece of suet left over from last year.
I guess I'm just rambling here on this gray day. Off to find another instrument to play!