Category Archives: The Cove at Rock Creek

I have levels of crazy you haven’t even met yet.

she is crazy

Have you ever seen a Southern Woman throw a wall-eyed hissy with a red rubber tail? Someone is fixin to.

I did the math, I’ve been gone 152 days out of a possible 275 so far this year.That is almost 22 weeks away from my family. 21.7 weeks to be exact. Seven of those days were for fun. I spent my friend’s 50th birthday with them. The rest of those days weren’t even close.

In that time:

  • My mother died.
  • I missed my 25th wedding anniversary and my 50th birthday.
  • The airplane I was on caught on fire and had to make an emergency landing in the middle of a runway.
  • The apartment I was renting had bed bugs – I’m violently allergic to those by the way and the pain inflicted was incredible. I had to go to a small town ER where they were so freaked out that they tested me for everything from HIV to Ebola.  I have scars on my arms and legs people. SCARS!
  • The night gal at the new hotel had pet rats that stayed on her shoulders while she worked – RATS people, think about that for a minute, will you?
  • After dealing with bed bugs and rats, I not so wisely decided I was better off sleeping in my dead mother’s home while I organized her estate.  I do not recommend that. For one thing, that’s just heartbreaking really and for another it’s creepy sleeping there alone, especially if oh I don’t know – her radio suddenly turns on in the middle of the night when you are there.

I left. Locked the doors and flew home.

The house can wait.

Why am I about to unload crazy? I gave a guy $3,000 to clean up my trees while I was gone. He did half the job and won’t come back. Oh he says he will, but he never does — really? While it is true, thatI know better – half up front, half when he’s done,  I was in a crisis and had to be in NY to take care of Mom while she died so I trusted him on good faith. And I came home to learn, NOPE he didn’t do it. Even after my husband hounded him.

My best pecan trees are dead now.

That good faith is gone. Not a good choice for that man.

My Anniversary Gift

I am sorry that I haven’t been around the blogosphere much these last few months. I’ve been living in New York taking care of my mother. She passed on August 19 (The day after my anniversary). To be honest, my emotions are raw and all over the place which is why I haven’t been writing.

I run the gamut of relief, grief, anger and acceptance all in an hour’s time.

I’ll write more once my heart settles down and I can once again assemble clear, intelligent thought. You deserve my best. I’ll get there again. I promise.

My summer hasn’t been all crazy. There have been many good moments. Like this for instance.

Hubs got me a new, custom-made Bishline Banjo for our 25th wedding anniversary. The arm rest says, “Breathe Darlin’ ” (something an old friend used to say to me when my shoulders were in my ears and my anxiety was readily apparent) and the head-stock reads “Hippie Chick” a nickname given to me by the lead guitar player from Korn when I played the Funny Bone this Spring.

I am not making that up you guys. I shared a stage with Thaddeous Challis from Korn last Spring and he dubbed me “The Hippie Chick.” that was so freakin cool that I still want to pinch myself. My son thinks I’m a rock star now and wants an autograph. HA!

of HIM, not me. Just to be clear.

Granted, Hippie Chick doesn’t exactly fit (I’m a little too naive for that name) but I like it and I’ll take it.

This banjo is an open back model and is designed specifically for Claw-hammer style banjo which is something I’m trying to teach myself and is also what Rob is playing in this video.

crc banjo

Check out the video to see what it sounds like. It has a bright, clear, and happy sound and is exceptionally made. I met Rob almost three years ago when my then banjo teacher invited me out to hear “a real banjo player play,” as he put it.

Rob is local to Tulsa and is not only a gifted musician, he’s a well gifted Luthier as well. I’ve wanted a Bishline Custom banjo for almost three years. I’m thrilled to add this beautiful instrument to my collection. The action is low and perfect for my smallish stature. It’ll take some time to readjust the muscle memory. My Recording King had wider frets and a longer neck. I keep missing the chords but I’m getting there.

This is officially my favorite banjo in my collection.

Even more fun, I bought my guitar playing husband a Madera (Also made by Rob). It’s a banjo that looks like a guitar. Rob called us “This really cool dead head couple” — HA! Again with the not quite right nick names, but then again, I DID have him put a wheel of roses and a dancing bear on my hubs Madera, so you know.

Guitar man and I do play together on our front porch as time allows. What takes me months to learn, he picks up by ear. I’m okay with that really. Playing together is pure joy.

Take care my sweet friends.

Live today and love well.

Friday Funny: That’s One Way to keep the toilet clean

toilet seatIt would seem the guys have a problem with where I chose to hang Marilyn. I don’t see what the issue is, toilet seat’s been down for a week.

Yes, I really did do this.

I’m redecorating.

No, I did not think this would be an issue.

Apparently it is.


Music Monday: Feelin Groovy, Simon and Garfunkel

My banjo teacher used to call me “High Strung.” Some how, I don’t think that was a compliment. I’m always in such a hurry to finish up whatever we are working on and get to the next plateau that I don’t enjoy the moment.

I’m the same way with losing weight, mastering cycling, and my career. My eyes are on the mountain tops. The next gig, the next movie, the next song.

8 months with my leg in a boot has changed that.  8 months of sitting on my front porch overlooking the cove brought such incredible peace. No late night gigs, no rushing to finish projects around the house. no exhaustion. I just got to be.. 100% wholly me and no one else for 8 whole months.

I’m not sure I want to get back in the fray. The mania of striving and networking.

I want to build my garden at the Cove, write poetry, play my banjo on my front porch, go to church, take my time cooking fabulous meals, and spend time with friends. Maybe write my book and sling some jokes here and there when I feel like it.

Rebuilding a “suitable” web page that brings “results” doesn’t have the appeal it did a year ago.

Neither does being a star.

Or chairing yet another board at church.

Sounds crazy to me though.

Meeting Howard this weekend reaffirms that change.

Howard is a luthier. It can take him a year to make ONE violin. He has 10 more he wants to make. It took him a year to rebuild ONE clock from Germany. His father purchased a real log cabin for $20, took it down row by row, transported it back to his house and rebuilt it, row by row.

I’m guessing it took longer than a week.

How is it that at 48, I can still be in as big of a hurry to grow up as I was at eight?

Slowing down is good for sure.