Play on despite the rain

Amnesia?
Amnesia?

So all anyone really says after a colonoscopy is the procedure isn’t bad, it’s the prep. Yup. Forty-five minutes of twilight sedation is fun – if you even remember it. I don’t. The 12 hours of swallowing a gallon of grossness scented with lime and it’s purgative effects are your beginning of the end. It’s like a Sweet Sixteen for the over fifty. Middle age is fading fast and the next thing is barreling at you. Arrival at the hospital after a night of little sleep and much toilet paper was a relief. Put me under. I don’t care what you do to me. Three people asked me if my ‘stools’ were clear and sediment free. Uh, I guess so. The state of our trailer toilet precluded a thorough look. Plastic just doesn’t let go of 9 years of bodily fluids. Describing our plastic throne as stained is an understatement. It’s scarred.

My results, thanks, ObamaCare or ACA, made me really happy to have finally done my screening colonoscopy. They doctor found and removed a small polyp. I have learned it was benign. Polyps are where colon cancer gets started so it is very nice to not have that little guy lurking and growing in my gut. And since it was benign I don’t have to do this for ten more years. That is great news. I could’t have done this without health insurance and I’m grateful I don’t the polyp is gone and can’t get into any dirty business.

Immediately afterwards Burt loaded me into the truck and we headed out to the Good Medicine music jam just out of Jefferson City. The Simms brothers host a music campout in June. Food and showers are provided. We just have to show up and be musicians. We get to see old friends from all over the region and just focus on making music. The meal bells ring and we put our stuff away and pile in the food. Repeat for three days. There is no internet or cell reception. Ahhhh….

Highlights of this year’s Good Medicine for me were seeing my friend Sally O’Neill and playing Spanish songs and leading my first fiddle jam and laughing with a friend who was sort of fired/let go from a pseudo-band that I was fired from over 13 years ago. Sally did a semester in Mexico a while back and she returned with a love of Mexican folk music. So we swapped tunes and she gave me some new ones to work on.

I anchored my first fiddle jam at 8:00AM on Sunday morning. No real fiddlers are awake at this hour so I stepped into the void. I found myself surrounded by loved ones and felt lifted by their appreciation of my music such as it is. We played simple and lovely and ancient music. Then we went to breakfast and packed up for home.

The person let go from the band that I was let go from and I got a good laugh because there are more people fired from the band than actually still in the band. My claim to fame is that I was a founding member and I was the first one fired. Some might say the people losing their jobs could all get together and form a better band than the band that fired us. All of us have been told by the same person that we weren’t taking our commitment to the band seriously enough. This is a band that when I was fired had not had a paying gigs. My recently cast-off amigo reports that they still haven’t had a paying gig. I’ll call the band of castaways the commitment phobes.

Cantamos en español.
Cantamos en español.
Sally and Steve
Sally and Steve
Mountain Lady Slipper
Mountain Lady Slipper
Old and new.
Old and new.
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Flooding

The flooding Dearborn at the Hwy 200 Bridge.
The flooding Dearborn at the Hwy 200 Bridge.

Tomorrow is my first screening colonoscopy. I am three years late for this party. Between our travel schedule and Helena’s former shortage in persons that probe I couldn’t get this classic right of passage into ‘you’re over the hill’ scheduled. Here are some flood photos in honor of my personal flush.

Baby bluebirds. Maybe.
Baby bluebirds. Maybe.
Mushrooms
Mushrooms
Yucca
Yucca
Dearborn River and the Railroad Bridge. This is just above the confluence with the Missouri.
Dearborn River and the Railroad Bridge. This is just above the confluence with the Missouri.

IMG_3356

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300,000 mile tune up

Night guard mold. Tasty.
Night guard mold. Tasty.

Just be glad I didn’t do a selfie at my mammogram this morning. Those things are so painful I can’t even bring myself to look at my own boob crushed in plexiglass. My mind imagines a 2-D version kind of like a topo map versus the landscape. Veins, moles, stretch marks instead of roads, mountains and rivers. No thanks. Our relative stasis in our hometown means it’s time for catching up on all medical procedures. I’ve done the eye doctor, the dentist, the internist, the cardiologist. I have to still do a colonoscopy and follow up on new heart medications. Stay tuned for the colonoscopy selfie. Presuming all goes well I should have this wrapped up in a month.

Being in Helena is uncomfortable and wonderful. I don’t have a place in the most of the relationships I used to have. That’s the price you pay when you live on the road. Plus my old friends are all still working. They can’t just go for a walk any time. Then summer is manic in Montana. Even if people want to see each other it can be hard to find time. Everyone is trying to get outside and hike or boat or camp while they can. On the great side my best friend is next door and there’s twice a week Bridge and music lessons. Next up I’ll share some pictures of what we’ve been up to for fun.

Biennial heart monitoring.
Biennial heart monitoring.
New Glasses.
New Glasses.
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Smoke smoke smoke that western US….

These pieces are collected, not painted, by the artist we worked with on the studio.
These pieces are collected, not painted, by the artist we worked with on the studio.

After a smoke filled drive across the Northern Cascades we have arrived in Helena. It’s a jam packed visit with music, doctors, bridge, and fishing. I find myself deeply saddened by the state of the world. The west burns down around us. Fish are in trouble. People can’t find common ground. We are actually thinking nukes. WTF. It is a very sad and difficult time. I’ve been asked by others how I deal and I always advise, do what you love and look for goodness and beauty. It’s hard to do some days especially when my back hurts. It’s a heavy lift.

Following my own advice here are some lovely photos despite the smoke. I caught and released some fishes yesterday on my favorite river. I played some tunes with friends. I really sucked at Bridge. Again.

If you’re in Helena and want to see us. Do not weep. Next summer we’ll be here working. We’ve got a big job lined up. Perhaps the last big one before retirement. We can play music, fish, and eat good food then.

On the medical side Burt passed his physical with an A plus. I do not have hemochromatosis, yet. I may never develop it. This is good news. I go in for an upper GI test with a barium milkshake tomorrow. It’s probably all just gastritis. Or freaking stress about the state of the world. I’ll let you know what we find out. Tomorrow we depart for Kila and the kids.

Here's Burt mopping the studio.
Here’s Burt mopping the studio.
Jolyn Wells-Moran paintings.
Jolyn Wells-Moran paintings.
Smoke so thick we could only appreciate the up close stuff.
Smoke so thick we could only appreciate the up close stuff.
The Northern Cascades.
The Northern Cascades.
This is an ancient breed of plant.
This is an ancient breed of plant.
I erased Burt's toe.
I erased Burt’s toe.
Claire and Burt
Claire and Burt
Box Elder Bugs. They are odoriferous.
Box Elder Bugs. They are odoriferous.
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