Home Healing with New Hip

Something is wrong
Everything is going right

Of course you know what I mean.
We, conditioned by media, literature and I guess fundamental ancient jungle survival where you expect a lion lurking while you hunt, just know there’s a crisis right around the next bush.

When it suddenly becomes a linear clear awareness that things are really good, I have to supply my own lion.
So.... what’s wrong is.... There’s nothing really wrong.
(Are we happy now, Crazy Self? Oh yes! Very, thanx.)

I’m one moon old with my new right hip prosthesis. The healing is still amazing, especially compared with the same routine we had on the port side 8 years ago. Easily weeks ahead of the expected program. Core planet big city technology - you just can’t beat it.

I can walk unassisted, though I carry the cane for backup. I can drive - no problem in mechanical execution but I get a little sore at the joint maintaining any static position, so @ 20 minutes at a stretch for now.

Faithful physical therapy is the known key to optimum recovery.
Am there, doing that, got the T-shirt.

I have floor & standing routines and walking laps on deck. A few times a day (at first nothing else much to actually DO). The rest is Rest and load the body - hydrate, eat healthy, etc. .

I notice improved mobility & reduced discomfort upon awakening daily. It is big fun once we pushed thru the early term pain & stiffness barrier and I’m looking forward to 2 "good" legs for the first time in 20 years! Ya!

Coming out of the isolation of home healing is interesting. I’m not alone. Brother Mike is my worthy caretaker. Also, I did have many dear friends & well wishers contact and/or visit me.

We had tons of excellent donated home style food on hand - a lot of my acquaintances are serious chefs in their own right. Been in this sweet little mountain community for over 30 years (longer than I’ve been anywhere else) and it is so very heartening to have friends expressing their love & concern. And delicious.

Also, my other #1 son, Byron is as good as a certified chef. They work at Old Edwards Inn - a fancy upscale kitchen in Highlands. One evening he and wife Taylor invaded and occupied my cucina and turned out a killer shrimp on pasta - a lot like Jerri Feiffer’s Mediterranean Chicken but with his personal tweaks. Zow! This is why we have kids. Yum.

B&T are serious food people. Byron’s "man talk" is always about kitchen technique, tricks, etiquette, etc. He gets as excited and serious as a motor head talking about cars.

His tools are expensive knives. I wonder if they know how much they love what they are doing? It is a blessing to see. Also delicious.

He turns 30 this year and is talking seriously about going to culinary school. He’s good, it will work out if he does (it will work out if he doesn’t too). One of the chefs at Old Edwards was watching Byron on the job and asked him if he’d been to chef school. When Byron said "No, chef.", his inquisitor answered in his German accent "Goot!!"

BTW Byron tells me there’s only 3 things we say to the kitchen kings - "Yes chef,", "No chef." and "I don’t know, chef."

That line is also in a very cool foodie movie "Dinner Rush" w Danny Aiello. A highly recommended B movie. Easy find.

OK, back to re-joining society as part of home healing. It has to be gradual. A few weeks ago I was asked by a fellow musician & dear friend if I would sit in with some Celtic fiddlers in Clayton, GA on St Paddy’s day.

I have no Celtic experience beyond listening and appreciation, and so was initially reluctant to accept the invitation n. However, one of my new (last few years) things is "Just say Yes". Nancy Regan would be appalled but it works.

A favorite sermon by a favorite speaker once pointed out the mechanics of yes and no. No is "safe" and goes nowhere. Whether or not you believe in this sort of thing, it makes it harder for the all the good stuff seeking you. "No" opens no doors.

On the other hand, "Yes" (in big floaty letters like in Yellow Submarine), opens the door to the rest of the entire universe. Everything being connected, a "yes" makes it way easier for that "good stuff" looking for you to show up, start making chains of offers and there you go.

So, I got a little brave up and said yes to the St Paddy’s job. My dear gave me a sheaf of scored music but I don’t read so good. However, the internet has everything. One site that featured "A new fiddle tune every day for a year" helped a lot. I downloaded recordings of all the "chunes" in my roster and studied off and on for those weeks.

Turns out, I’m pretty good after all these years, at finding chords to a given melody. There’s some scale logic involved, most of the fiddle tunes were in one of 3 keys and something automatic inside (not the same "me" that talks or writes) can guess the odd chord change the second or third time around.

So, here comes St Paddy’s Day and I’m packed and ready as I’ll ever be. Except, in the shower my little voice says "What about Danny Boy?". "Oh Crap!" just enough time to check the chords on-line.

Luckily, the song is both easy & the last thing I studied so it stuck. Found it in the key of C, figured the fiddlers would play it in D so I transposed 1 time for luck. We played it at least twice and both times in G!!. No problem but like Nana Rosanadana would always say "It just goes to show ya"!!?

We’re off to Clayton GA and to The Wicked Pig, a brand new barbecue joint downtown. Mike is driving and is both my invited guest & a legitimate band member (I’m not there if he ain’t), so he eats & drinks free. Thanx Ryan!!

Ryan, a large redheaded Irishman, runs the place and takes good care of his musicians. I played R&R there last year with The Remnants and he was very gracious - obviously new at dealing with musicians.

Showed up at 6:30p and there was already fiddling going on at the Pig’s outdoor stage. Two young people, possibly brother & sister - clear, beautiful 20ish youths who could really play well!

No one (ok, a very few phenoms) is born knowing how to play, much less the violin which takes lotsa finesse & balance, is physically demanding and has no frets doing the intonation for you.

Add that the common fiddle tunes are known "note for note" so it also requires memorization work - not easy. They were all on the exact same musical page. It sounded excellent. Already fun.

There was a third, an older woman (my age more or less), a veteran fiddler who really knew her stuff. Once later during the evening, we were playing "Drowsy Maggie" and she stage-whispered to me conspiratorially "That’s a Scottish tune." Like there might be a "Donnybrook" if it were found out. Aye!.

Margie was fun and a master fiddler, likely the younger folks’ mentor. My friend who asked me to join was en route for the first hour from another playing job (she is pro & classically trained and does a lot of musical work).

I walked up to the outdoor stage, tuned up, made eye contact with the others and after they finished their song I said "Hi. I’m Chris, Marie asked me to sit-in on guitar."
Welcoming smiles all around.

We did several songs (it was comfortable right away) and then the drizzle began so we moved inside. Packed house - food & brew everywhere. A full tilt Irish party (Cèilidh) once we started playing.

Fortunately for me, a lot of different melodies use similar chords and I have a pretty good "ear" for this so I did fine per content. Rhythm & meter is where I excel and the fiddlers phrasing of the song implies the tempo/dance. So we got 'em going big time.

Turned out to be easy, especially after a Guinness or two. Many dear friends were there and the other patrons were smiling and at least toe tapping - it couldn’t have worked out better. Exhilarating!

I went to bed that night with tunes playing loudly in my head and the next day went around whistling like I had been on my best date. Nice coming alive again.

Happy Spring Y'all! It’s evening and I just went out on deck & heard peepers (those little frogs). Somehow their songs are a great comfort to me. Longer days will continue to grow so.

We will forget for a beautiful warm green buzzy while, that winter is coming. I gladly join that amnesia - dancing days are here again!

I got 15 pots of Tulsi seeded on deck under chicken wire. Oh! Forgive me Brad, Muffie - it is labeled "Poultry Netting". (pronounce that with your teeth closed) Sounds a bit snooty to me - it is "chickn war".

I generally sprout my yearly crop indoors and put ‘em out when they get a 3rd set of leaves but the season has been so mild and seedlings are tough and pretty easy to support. so I started them outside this year.

The chicken wire is to keep the squirrels, etc. from plundering my pots. I used to get angry but really - I feed them & the yardbirds sunflower seed on deck so how are they to know sprouts from any other chow? I’ll let you know how it goes.

Going to get to my PT routine and enjoy this gorgeous day.
Best to all.
Drop me a line

Big Love to All