Ah. I awoke from a late afternoon nap to the tantalizing smell of baking…Maggie made a marmalade cake from a new recipe she’s been wanting to try, and it smells delicious (still haven’t sampled it). What better reminder of the small joys in life, the aroma of something newly baked as you enter a house (or in this case, re-enter consciousness!). It’s a primal, heartwarming, wonderful thing that resonates from early childhood throughout our lives.
And life, while we’re on the subject, is pretty good, thanks. I guess that may in some way account for my laziness in tending to this blog: all is quite normal, nothing earthshaking to report. Meanwhile I’ve had two chemo treatments since I last posted, with another due this Thursday…which will be #38. Getting up there. The only side effect I notice is that I’m definitely sleeping more, but my energy at its peak seems pretty much what it’s always been.
This past Saturday I played a writers night at the Bourbon Quarter, a restaurant and showroom that is one of my favorite Saint John venues. The round consisted of Mike Biggar, Jessica Raye, Dennis Ellsworth, Marcy Noel…and yours truly. Marcy is a young newcomer to the scene, and of course I scarcely consider myself a performer at all, but the others are all respected Maritime singer-songwriters. It was a good show, well attended and appreciated. Mike recently won an award for Best Spiritual Recording at the Music New Brunswick conference. This was for his Christmas CD from last year, The Season, which includes two of our co-writes, so I feel a grateful part of it all. Meanwhile Mike is making plans for 2011 Christmas shows. No snow here yet. The leaves have all turned but many are still clinging to the trees. It feels like deep fall. But Christmas decorations are beginning to rear their sparkly heads and our favorite TV shows are starting to be interrupted with the annoying clamor of toy commercials. But I’m not as Scrooge-like as that statement may suggest. I’ve even been writing Christmas songs of late…a romantic one called “What Christmas Is All About,” Skype-written with Ron Irving and Luke Isaac, and a sultry fun little jazzy thing with Melissa Hunt called “Santa I’m Depending On You.” Ho ho ho.
Speaking of Melissa, I called her up on stage Saturday to sing our “Wake Up Call” and I thought she did a great job to enthusiastic response. She’ll be starting university in the new year but hopefully will still find time to work on her music. There’s clearly big potential there.
Last night Maggie and I went to visit my aunt Trudy in the seniors’ home where she lives. We had tea, talked and went out for dinner. She’s 92, suffering from osteoporosis and is another cancer battler who seems to be clear for the moment. She’s as sharp as a tack and has amazing recall from her earlier life. Before we left she wanted to show me zomething. It was a school class picture from 1929, Grade One I’m guessing. She asked if I could pick out my mother. I couldn’t. Trudy pointed her out. It was eerie to realize that this unsmiling child (did no one smile in old photographs ever?) was indeed my mother, now 88. Trudy was quite delighted and so was I. Again…those resonant little joys.
Oh…I tried the cake. Yummy.