June 13, 2011

8:55 p.m.

It's taken me quite a long time to get back to page one of journaling. But here I am, at a kind of beginning. We, the band, had our last gig as Mad Agnes a week ago last Saturday. We'd just come back from two weeks in England, and then there was the one performance in Maine, and that was it. The next day I cut the nails on my right hand and got back in touch with my fingertips. I've planned a ritual around releasing/embracing which I'll do soon. I am living at home, sleeping in my own bed, going to my job and getting a few house repairs done. Life is a version of bliss.

I tried another cat. For a week and a half I had a second cat here. Smidge wouldn't accept him at all. There were terrible, scary hissing spats and pee everywhere. I had to segregate them and was always slipping from one side of the house to the other, making sure nobody else went through the door. It was stressful beyond anything I expected. I only got him so she would have a companion; it turns out she doesn't need one. My friend B. loved the second cat. He was there when I adopted it. So now Cat is with B., they are both ecstatically happy and spoiled with each other and I have my house and life back. In the process I made a donation to a good animal rescue organization (which B. couldn't afford anyway), and inadvertently placed a kitty with its perfect owner. We are all happy.

I love Smidge hugely, deeply. She is the kitty of my dreams; she is loving and standoffish; she is cuddly and looks to me when she's in need; she will have me on her terms and none other. I rescued her last week from 30 feet up a dead tree with no branches to climb down upon. She was there for hours; Rose and I got a long ladder and a plank (which I held above my head, as the ladder wouldn't reach her) and she inched down to me, terrified. I am glad to have our life back. I am in love with our life here.

And leaving touring; our final gig was really good, though C&C were both sick. Carol had come down with a nasty cold two days before we left England. By the next week Chris had gotten it, and they were both hacking and snotty. Somehow we got through all the songs all right; it was a nice auditorium with a great sound system and sound engineer. Chris's son, who has turned into a really adept photographer, took some wonderful shots of the show. It was a fine farewell, and nobody cried or broke down onstage. Carol said it was a good thing she was sick and had something else to focus on.

I had a hard bed in our nice B&B; it's been my bane that most beds in most hotels and people's houses are too hard for me. I have circulation problems. I lie on my back and my hands go to sleep. I lie on my side and my entire arm goes to sleep. I spent the whole England tour with a painfully stiff neck and shoulders. Nobody knows the trouble I seen. Now I sleep in my own bed and wake up to my own sunrise. It's glorious.

The raised bed is in, and I'm getting strawberries and lettuce. Peppers and tomatoes are coming; herbs are flourishing, chard is nearly ready to start picking, and the marigolds are blooming. I have five bags of four kinds of potatoes this year. We didn't do the big garden this time; too much going on next door. The winter rye we sowed last Fall to keep the weeds down is almost as high as my head now. We never plowed it under. It's blue-green against the deep green lawn. Smidge loves to creep through it looking for voles and grasshoppers. I watched her chasing a dragonfly the other day. We have a lot of large ones here. She leapt and stalked and never caught it.

Mosquito season started recently; two days later I realized it was also firefly season. How they dance in the yard! The beauty bush is just about done blooming, but the wild roses are still going strong. I planted the first lilac above the stone wall, and the first azalea by the house. The edges of the property are a mess, with trees we felled that need clearing, brush gone wild, poison ivy needing spraying, forsythia rampant and bittersweet coming back no matter what we do. It's wonderful. I am blessed, blessed. I sit here and listen to the crickets and the distant froggies in the woods. There are so many partially finished projects everywhere. I make small advances in the house. I hire a carpenter to finish the clapboards. I mop a floor. I know I have time now; I'm not going anywhere.

Bedtime comes, and I mind the angel who tells me to brush my teeth and go upstairs. It is good to be home.