Feb-you-dreary

Winter is getting long. The woodshed out back is four rows down and with one and a half rows of wood left. Even the cats are blue, sitting in whatever window they can find, starring bleakly out at the once magical white snow, now mud caked and broken twig racked from the seven ancient maples that are slowly breaking down, day by day, wind by wind in front of my house. My cats every now and then, let out a quiet, half meow whimper in a dream of green and spring and sun on the porch. Like me, as I walk the perfectly straight edged, snow blower blown path to dump the compost bucket down by the garden and my eyes are diverted to the color of my red and yellow kayaks hanging on the side of the shed almost covered by snow...snow they wish was water, I sigh and think, these kayaks shouldn't be hanging upside down in the middle of winter. They should be housed some where warm and dry, buffed up and shiny. Housed in a lush green house full of exotic plants, organic herbs and vegetables all full of color around a steaming pool and growing right smack dab in the middle of winter! Just another thing to put on the wish list. February is a great month to paint interior walls, check, record, half check, just couldn't bond with the creativity this year tho I did finally come face to face with Osceola the berry and herb toting woman who lived at the base of Rexford Falls back in the Sherburne heyday.I got her song researched and written with a demo recorded. To get a flu shot, check, to realize that my husband is turning 70 and how am I gonna deal with that...likely give him a dinner party...Oh very well...Check, And to realize that all doctors aren't as evil as I've been making them out to be the last twenty years of my life...double check. I fasted 12 hours and had nine vials of blood drawn for allergy testing. I told to blood drawing girl to write a script for high cholesterol if she would as I'm sure my genes have allowed it. It's Valentines day tomorrow. I have a gig at the Brackel in the yonder hills of McDonough NY. I also have a few more gig's coming up, one being in a cozy log cabin tavern with the butt of an airplane sticking out of its roof called the Wigwam...and another at the Hotel Solsville. The Bipolor Hotel has been dead where I'm last on the list to be called in being the part timer that I am. I'm not holding my breath for further employment there as something smells pretty fishy in the crazy-just-like-the-music-biz business. There's a lot of young girls hustling the floors each week when I pop in to find my name not on the work schedule. I guess 52 may be the new cut off. I will not miss dressing like mafia man. Lately I've noticed a lot of musicians playing for exposure and as another fellow working musician mentioned on facebook, playing for exposure just doesn't pay Target, Mobile or mortgages. I think it may be time, again, to become the kept house wife and be happy throwing dinner parties and record the occasional song that comes my way. And digging in the dirt around the spot where that green house is gonna go. Yep. I guess you could say February has worked it magic. But, I got some rooms painted!