Home again, home again

Back in the Bronx! It's pretty toasty down here, even in a low-light apartment. Now I appreciate the positive aspects of having no direct sunlight hitting my windows. Bobby the Cat is stretched out on the floor as long and as flat as he can manage, and I have been doing the same off and on today, between bouts of unpacking and laundry activity. Western and Swing Week is the event to which I look forward all year, and then love every minute I am there, and then usually mourn once it has passed. But I am going to start my looking forward earlier than in years past, and skip the boohooing altogether. I hope.

Highlights that spring to mind as I write tonight: singing with the band, as always. Teaching Swing Harmony Singing with Dave Davies, and hearing the gorgeous 'Deed I Do pouring out of that class. Dancing with George Reed!(oh my!). Watching and hearing the students in both my classes blossom. Laughing at Molly Mason's quick wit, and marveling at her easy swinging groove as a bass player, a guitar player, and a singer. Seeing the younger campers so much bigger and more mature than they were last year, and hearing their astonishing musicianship. I don't know about the music business, but there will be great music written, played, sung, and danced to long after my generation of musicians is gone. The kids are alright!