Bukowski felt like an apt reference today. Doesn't seem right that I can have a hangover when I don't drink, but I'm foggy as hell. Late nights playing bars, even sweet little Tease, can take it out of a girl. OK, hangover may be stretching it; my hangovers back in the day were epic. That's why I quit drinking.
Doesn't look like Jesse the Human Jukebox will make the camp out this year; work calls. Jon can't come on Friday and Saturday will be a game day decision. So, y'all will have to make do with fewer slices of Ham and whatever music you can muster on your own. Danny Pearson gave me a freaking Harmonium when he was here last weekend, an odd and lovely little instrument, kind of a miniature pump organ. I have yet to figure out how to manipulate the bellows with one hand while playing with the other, but I'll bring it down to the meadow and let y'all take a crack at it. He also gave me an ancient button accordion that evokes nothing so much as the Handsome Cabin Boy playing a hornpipe on the deck of a steamship. The bellows are cracked and some of the reeds sound warped, but it will wheeze out a few sounds.
Campfire tunes; just saying.
The weather report from my back porch is pretty near perfect. Upper 70s, lots of sun, a stiff breeze. No telling what next weekend will be like, but if it's anything like today I think we'll be just fine. Nights have been very cold my friends; bring your woolies.
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