i left stealthily, waking at 7:00 am, slipping my gear and guitar into the car, then getting on my way home by 7:10 am. Like the Baltimore Colts, packing up while everyone slept, i went without much noise. Only 36 hours, but it was enough. For quite some time.
A family reunion, with my “semi-lost” cousins – the children and other progeny of my mother and her two sisters. We reconnected recently, and decided to get Mom together with her only living sister before it was too late. Choosing a location reasonably equidistant from the majority of the cousins, we descended upon a gorgeous Kentucky lakefront resort for the weekend, renting two waterfront homes to accommodate all the cousins, second cousins and affiliated family members who could find the time to make the trek.
It was pretty damn wonderful to spend time with my cousins, getting to know them (again) and their children over a fairly relaxed weekend. The entourage from my Trailer Park attended as well, except for my sister, T, who lives much farther away.
As a result of the weekend with my clan, i have perhaps enough blog-fodder for the next year. Or two. Covering the 260 miles of the return trip at warp speed this morning, i spent the time alone in the car trying to process all that transpired… and having had only a few hours sleep over the prior two days, decided to put it in the “Fuck It” bucket for now and start poking my way through it after rest and reflection.
My family never ceases to amaze me. For better and for worse. But they’re mine… All mine. Fucking deathbed promises…
So instead of getting busy contemplating my familial navel, i spent the afternoon otherwise deployed… Round one? Getting in touch with my inner Celtic Cougar, falling madly in lust with admiring the guitarist for a delightful irish jam band, Scythian. He sproinged merrily about the stage, slammin’ gypsy rhythms on his accoustic until i was on the verge of scamming my way backstage for a personal guitar lesson… Or two…
After an hour of getting used to being the oldest woman in the mosh pit in front of the stage, Round Two began. i settled in for another hour of reckless musical abandon with Gaelic Storm. These kids have never failed to deliver joy to my old, crusty soul… And while i find the guitarist for this musical tribe to be supremely crush-worthy, it’s the drummer who must be stalked. This young man shall marry my daughter. He’s going to agree, he just doesn’t know it yet.
More on the family dealings to come. But i’m momentarily speechless… and that ain’t a regular occurrence.
“Me and the moon stayed up all night. I brought the whiskey, he brought the light…”