Sunday, November 29, 2009

Broke Up Thanksgiving....

... and now I am very tired.
The Fool and Jamie and I packed up on Friday and headed north for the Chicago contra dance community's big weekend dance camp, with lots of jamming and dancing and what-have-you into the wee hours of the night.

Except Jamie and I started coming down with a cold and so our activities were somewhat curtailed.

Look at that expression - that's a kid who wishes his nose wasn't running.

He had a good afternoon on Saturday while I was calling square dances, because it was sunny and warm and he found a pile of sand and a stick to scratch in it with. The Fool and Edward played tunes with a couple friends and kept an eyeball on Jamie, beetling around in the sun, and all was well.
The Fool and I played a set of tunes with our friends Spider and Steve on Friday night, and after the Fool saw us safely to bed last night, he went back for some more tunes and dancing and jamming and passing-of-a-flask.
Spider had a tuba with her that she had bought on behalf of a friend (Spider plays banjo), and at 3 a.m. or so, when I was up nursing Jamie again, I heard a sort of mournful tunely bellow across the camp's empty field, through the dark and the fog. I hadn't woken up enough to sort out the sound, so at first, I thought the Fool was singing in his sleep, but then realized no, Spider had probably just gotten a little bit tipsy and decided to take this tuba outside with the other late-night revelers for a honk.
(Amusingly, the Fool also heard the tuba in his sleep and thought it was Edward singing outside in the field, maybe, or from his bunk bed down the hall.)

The tuba.

It is a good start to the end of the year and the darkest season, although because of my cold, maybe not as much music and dance as I prefer to fortify myself for the winter. We've had a rough year, the Chicago contra community, with death before its time and a long-time fiddler and dancer in hospice right now.

Saturday night band.

In my own life, I received news a few weeks ago of a friend from grad school who died of cancer, a year older than me, two kids and a wife. With all this darkness in my mood, I wanted my spirits lifted a little higher, but instead, I played spectator at the weekend and provided Jamie a good solid lap to cling to.

We're into the holiday rush for sure now. I had to frog a Christmas present for the second time - grr. I will defeat this yarn. I feel better about Christmas this year than I have in years past. I think it's going to be more fun.
And now, I'm going to take my running nose and go see my dripping kid about bedtime.

Baked good photos for Lanae.

1 comment:

Ralph said...

Hi - just a quick note to The Fool (I guess I'm s'posed to refer to him thusly...): I really enjoyed your fiddle workshop at this year's Breaking Up Thanksgiving, but it was driving me nuts not being able to have a title for the one tune we worked on. Now, after some fairly random digging, I think I've identified it as, variously known: Elizabeth's Big Coat, aka Cota Mor Ealasaid, Effie's Big Coat, Lassies of Glenaodale, A Mabou Reel and other variants thereof.

Great blog!