I am not playing music.  Not for weeks and weeks.  I wish I could figure out what the matter is.

No inspiration?

Not enough hours in the day?

Working too much?

No one to play with?

No music lessons to prepare for?

I miss the music.  I need to order the Headband system for the fiddle.  And the mini sound system.  And a plug adaptor for the new amplifier and the new microphones.  I need to have the lap steel restrung with the proper strings and then I need to start learning how to play it.  I have the book, so what am I waiting for?

A teacher, that’s what I’m waiting for.  We’ll be in Austin next month.  I should be able to find someone there who can explain the basics of a C6-tuned lap steel to me.

As far as the fiddle goes, I’m going to go through my lesson books and pick one.  And then I’m going to work my way through it, page by page.  Every day, no matter what.

I’m bringing my old fiddle to Texas so I can play for my grandson, who will certainly be impressed.  What 16-month old wouldn’t be???  I’d better learn a song, and fast.

There will be inspiration in Austin:  Hot Club of Cowtown, Ruby Jane, Warren Hood and Johnny Gimble.  I will worship at their feet and vow to practice more, but that is weeks away.

I am not quilting.  I am not singing.  I am working.  And working out.  And reading while I am working out.  I have stopped cooking. Life is very quiet, which is lovely.  But until I have a grip on this new book, my brain can’t concentrate on anything else.  I’m behind already, because my brain is old and tired and not accustomed to thinking this hard about people I made up in my head.

I slept for eleven hours last night.

Tonight we are going to a concert at the library.  There will be banjos and guitars and hopefully a fiddle or two.  I plan to close my eyes and pretend I’m listening to the Cougar Creek Band and tell myself I’d better get my act together.

Advice is welcome.