Early

I know it's eerily early but I'll take it none the less.

Welcome Spring. Hello new beginnings.

Complete

I've been unable to play the viola for 18 months. It's been one of the most deeply painful things I've ever endured. It has also been the impetus for some profound life lessons.

I'm not always the boss
Not being able to play because of an injury is a very one-sided proposition. You have absolutely no choice in the matter - you're just simply down for the count. It could last a few weeks, a few months or could be forever.

I refuse to be defined by my limitations
I'll be the first to admit that in the beginning it was pretty liberating. All that time I used to spend practicing and rehearsing? Sure, I can find endless ways to fill it up. No performances? No problem, I'll take less stress and anxiety in my daily life. No rehearsal drama and overblown egos to deal with? For sure, that can just stay gone forever. Sadly, when the liberation wore off something far less pleasant set in. A deep hole-in-your-heart sadness and an almost unbearable grief. I couldn't think about or listen to music, especially pieces I loved and had played before. I couldn't sit through concerts without becoming emotional. After navigating through this particularly prickly phase I've discovered that I am still very much a musician even if I can't play.

It's not about being perfect

In the months since I'd stopped playing we stopped going to music gatherings. Last night we ventured back and I even came with instrument in hand. After a while, I timidly joined the circle and began quietly playing along. After a bit someone requested some Bach. I offered up a pretty crusty version and made up more than a few notes, but some how I got through it.

And then there was silence.

I looked down at Ken and saw him wipe a few tears from his eyes. I noticed that others in the room were doing the same. Honestly I had no idea my musical voice could be missed and treasured in this way. Really, I'm not being maudlin or self-effacing. I just didn't know.

Keep calm and carry on

I'm pretty sure I won't be returning to professional performing. My body's made it pretty clear we're done with all that. What I do know is that I'll definitely find a way to make music for the sheer joy of it and that's all that really matters to me right now. It's good to be back in this small way. To hold the instrument in my hands, to laugh and sing with it, to harmonize and improvise.

I'd say my healing from this whole injury thing is just about complete.

Plan B

The is the first spring break in a looooong time where it actually feels like spring - for real. No kidding around, this is the real deal. And if the forecast is correct we'll move right into summer next week - 82 degrees is forecast one week from tomorrow.

We heard the first peepers tonight, had a pre-dinner glass of wine on the patio and kept the windows open until well after the sun went down. Robins, house pinches and English sparrows are all scouting nest locations and the rhubarb is up. As usual I had high hopes for getting all kinds of stuff done during the break. Instead I've mostly managed to make progress decreasing my substantial sleep deficit. Normally I'd feel a little guilty about this. Instead I'm choosing to focus on the positive side.

I've made one big orange tabby cat very happy,

and made a good investment in my sanity.

School Canceled Due To Weather

You know it's a sad state of affairs when the only days off you get are days where you stay home to nurse a cold. Ah well, at least I had the good sense to stay home on a day when the temp hit 62, the sky was cloudless and the air warm. I've got a few windows are open. Is that dirt I smell?
The birds are waking up and so are the woods.The snow is gone except for the teeniest tiniest patches. My hiking legs are pudgy, I'm out of shape and wobbly, but I am determined to make it up the logging road and on to the ridge around our house. The last of the winter food has been eaten...Wait, what...what was that you said?
That the temp is going to hit 35 tomorrow if we're lucky....
Spoilsport. I'll take all the spring I can get this time of year.

Worth It

March is here. It came in with a roar in the form of high winds and thunder.

On Wednesday it'll be in the 60's.

I spied winter aconite in bloom last week and our rhodies are getting ready.
Spring is definitely on the way.

We spent this past weekend at auction and among the more interesting things we saw was this Harley complete with hook'em horns attached to the front. Try as i might, I just couldn't get Ken to hop on and take it for a spin...

This auction had the most interesting array of attendees ever. The Harley guys and the tool guys were there milling around trying to look comfy out in the frigid air. And then there were the pasty white antique dealer types all huddled around the snack bar snarfing sloppy joes, swilling mediocre coffee and writing obsessively in their little notepads.

It was totally worth the trip.

No Where to Be

Winter is most definitely back. It's snowing and blowing a gale here, but there's a fire in the fireplace, we've got no where to be today and I just got the online version of the NY Times up and working on my computer. I'm thinking about Ken's dad today and hoping he's resting comfortably and feeling better soon.

Here's a photo from our visit with him last week.

Items on today's agenda include (in no particular order) a nap, roasting a chicken, reading with my feet up, petting cats and wearing jammies all day. TGISunday...just sayin'...

Andy

Gray. Cold. Damp. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, this is February. I find myself wishing for snow. My friends think I'm crazy. I don't care...

I began my day with a visit to Dr. Barry for my first post-op visit. It's been four weeks since my surgery and all looks good. I'm healing right on schedule. He suggests less Advil and more stretching, and I promise not to lift any heavy furniture and to investigate custom chinrests. I'll see him again in another six weeks. Instead of saying goodbye, see you next time, he says "Let comfort be your guide". I'm working on that. I squeak out a few notes every day and some days I even fearlessly demonstrate a few shifts in upper positions. This week I attempted up bow staccato. It wasn't pretty but it got the point across. It feels so good to play but it still hurts a lot and the road back may be longer and slower than I'd hoped. No matter. Time is on my side and I refuse to be hurried.

After an impromptu lunch with my sweetie I headed off for a walk in the Lab of Ornithology's Sapsucker Woods. I can't remember the last time I had alone time in the woods. It's been ages. I was on a specific quest today to find my way to Andy Goldsworthy's sculpture.

The path to the cairn isn't marked in any way.

I got vague directions from the woman at the information desk and headed off confidently. I had good cell service so I knew I'd either be found wandering aimlessly in the woods or would be led home via my gps.

The weather's been warm again so most of the snow is gone and along with it most of the pond ice.

The landscape looks deceptively dead but if you look close you'll find ferns and moss already greening up. I admire their optimism. I walked for quite a while on the unmarked trail and luckily just as I was about turn back I glanced down one more time at my map. When I looked up, *gasp* there it was,

right there in front of me.

I've seen other Goldsworthy installations in nature but this one is particularly poignant.

So peaceful and quiet.

So patient sitting there in the middle of the woods all by itself, waiting to be discovered. Sweetly framed by a few saplings and a host of fallen rotting trees.

If I had one shred of artisic talent I'd wish to have the vision of this man who fashions monoliths, eggs and serpentine walls out of nature's most basic materials - stones, leaves, twigs, ice and his own spit.His work is magic,

alchemy,

inspiration.

It is pure genius.