I ain't hit the roof since I don't know when...

Salmon Sunday.

A glass of white wine, the soulful smell of bonfires, the gentle breeze on my arms and face... Summer is almost over, I can feel it ending.

I was thinking today about how nothing is really my own, and I am kind of grateful for that. Sure, places can be mine, like the edge of my bed or the chair next to my window. Things can be mine, like my guitar or my computer. But everything that matters, everything that is on the inside, is shared. Opinions, friendship, love, insecurity, desire, anger, frustration, annoyance, lust, ambition, passion, inspiration. I don't need to talk about it to know the rest of the world is feeling it, too. That is strangely comforting.

I can't stop writing music lately. About God, and love (all kinds), and the little things. The ones I tend to miss when I am not paying attention. Things like smiles, and propeller beanies, and the way the salt from the ocean and the pine tree outside my window mingle together to smell like a beach forest. (Does that exist somewhere? It must.) White hair with silver streaks, and mouth wrinkles, pumpkin pie scented air freshener, yoga, and uncontrollable laughter.

Country is my inspiration, usually. Not so much the lyrics most days, but more like the banjos and the twang. And the heart you can feel through the notes. That kind of thing.


I can't get my charcoal to light. I have a three legged barbecue from Big Lots, and it doesn't want to work. I haven't dated in months, I'm on a sabbatical. (Metaphorically speaking.) And this is the first time in months I have missed having a boyfriend. Because he could light my charcoal, take out my trash, and check my oil. And I wouldn't have to worry about it. And it's almost worth the hassle of a relationship. Not quite, though. I nearly singed off my eyebrows trying to light the damn thing.

Well this was a magnificent attempt to kill time. My grill is now in working order (thank you, guy downstairs) and my salmon is ready. I think I'll make it a point to learn how to do manly things myself. Yes, I will do that.

Paige