Last night, I went to home group and celebrated the first year anniversary of one of our members. I hope that he keeps coming back. I found a great deal of relief in knowing that there are others to talk with and who understand what it's like to live with an alcoholic spouse. There were no people at my job or among acquaintances that I felt I could confide in. Talking about your drunk wife is not lunch time seminar small talk.
Tonight, we had fresh vegetables from the garden. This little cool spell is much appreciated because before long I will be irrigating everything so plants won't wilt in the heat. To actually sit on the porch in the morning and have a cup of coffee is awesome in early May. The same North wind that kicked my butt on the ocean is making the daytime temperatures tolerable.
We are going to see the Taj Mahal trio play Thursday at a local music venue. I was able to get a couple of tickets before the place sold out. I've seen him play before, and he is awesome. I'm a big blues fan. It's unpretentious music about real life, loss and hard times. It feeds into something at a primal level. Here's one that I hope he plays.
I'm going to see if lying flat on my back in bed relieves some tension in my lower back. Sitting upright to type on the computer is painful. Time to get horizontal.
“She's no lady. Her songs are all unbelievably unhappy or lewd. It's called Blues. She sings about sore feet, sexual relations, baked goods, killing your lover, being broke, men called Daddy, women who dress like men, working, praying for rain. Jail and trains. Whiskey and morphine. She tells stories between verses and everyone in the place shouts out how true it all is.” ~Ann-Marie MacDonald