We're back. I think it's a sign you're getting older when for every day you're on vacation, it takes a day to recover once you're home again. This particular trip called for a lot of driving and a lot of hiking. Also some time spent in the deep down heart of a cave, where I was convinced I was going to break my leg (caves being wet and slippery in spots) and have to be carried out. I also kept expecting the cave ceiling to suddenly collapse and crush us all. I don't believe a career as a spelunker is in my future.
I love this part of summer. I'm not tired of the heat yet (usually that happens in the third week of June) and I still have grand dreams of what I might accomplish. Will this be the summer I actually make new curtains for the bathroom? Dare I be so bold to hope?
I did something quite unusual yesterday: I took a lesson. I am your basic self-taught type, which is why I do so many things so haphazardly, seemingly without rhyme or reason. When seasoned, serious knitters watch me knit, they cock their heads to one side, raise their eyebrows quizzically, and say, "I've never seen it done that way before."
For me to shell out money to someone to teach me to do something, well, it's pretty much unheard of. But this spring I took up a new musical instrument, began teaching myself, and enjoyed playing so much that I didn't want to stop. Being a person of enthusiasms, some more long lived than other, I knew the only way to ensure I kept up with it was to take lessons.
Yesterday, fiddle in hand, I walked down Wilkerson Street, knocked on the door of the house with all the paintings nailed to the front porch walls, and began.
I was terrified, as all shy people are, of performing in front of another person. But my teacher, who bares a close resemblance to Santa Claus, was as laid back as you'd guess by the lived-in look of his porch, made me feel comfortable right away. So it was an hour well spent and now I can play "Gray Cat on a Tennessee Farm," a staple of old time music.
A good start to my summer. Another good start: It's 9:21 and my children are still sleeping. I've waited ten years for this day, and it's finally here.
Whoops! One just woke up. Must run. Have a great Tuesday!