November 18, 2002 - 9:14 p.m.
My guitar is out of the closet.
And, to make up for announcing that little tidbit without it's direct permission, I'll refrain from mentioning which gender my guitar may be. That way no one ought to feel uncomfortable around it.
Oh, don't roll your eyes like that. I'm tired and my fingertips hurt.
It's been over thre years since I played the guitar. (Yes, Zachary turns 3 next month - easy math.) I had forgotten how long it takes to build up those calluses - and how tender fingers can get until you do. After mere scales and warm-ups today, that tingling pain hasn't gone away yet. When I first took up the guitar, I would wake up in the middle of the night because the pressure of my head on my hand was too much to sleep through.
But it feels good to play again, even though I'm too rusty to tackle much beyond very elementary songs. colin-g picked up a little songbook of Christmas music along with a new set of strings for me while he was out on errands today, so I have something to work toward - quickly.
I took a stunned look at the calendar today and discovered that Thanksgiving is next week! (It's incredible what can slip your mind over these homogenized days of motherhood.) Which mean that Christmas will come tearing in at that mysterious speed it gains as you get older. Remember when time used to nearly stop on December 1? My sister and I would make chains of paper links to mark off the days until Christmas, tearing one off each morning. Twenty-four days never seemed so long to go by. Now I just seem to get catapulted into the new year.
God only knows what this Advent season will be like. Colin's still job hunting. Depending on that, we could be moving again. I wonder if I can borrow some elves from Santa after the big day to pack? Surely they'd find the beach quite balmy in comparison to the North Pole...
