An incomplete description of my weekend in videos

At the Chicken Basket outside of Chicago, if you tell them it’s your birthday, they sing “happy birthday” to you in chicken language

Evan and Chris, front-to-back, playing the guitar and the banjo pressed front-to-back

 

Some fine points:
+ At 8am, the first morning we spent at Buckeye, the friend I was sharing the bed with woke up in terror, swatting at the air. I asked him what was wrong and he said “it’s a fucking mud-dauber, I knew it!” Not knowing what a mud-dauber was, I was a little nervous, but he explained it’s a very large, mild-mannered but nonetheless, wasp that they call a mud-dauber because it uses mud to fortify its hive. I nodded, pulled the quilt further up above my head and went back to sleep. About an hour later, my best friend comes running up the stairs, having not slept at all, and I woke up from the sound of his steps and looked up just as he took a running leap into the space between my friend and I, yelling “mooooom! daaaaaaad!” and we laughed and tickled and wrestled and then went back to sleep like three little babies in a crib. We woke up for good about two hours later to the sound of cello harmonics that the master of the house was demonstrating could sound like gulls.

+  The night of our arrival, we gathered in a circle and took turns singing ballads.

+ The last night we spent there, we stayed inside even though it was a Saturday and we are all in our early to mid 20s. We cooked, colored paper trains for a charity drive, and played a game from my childhood called Barrel O’ Monkeys while discussing protein markers, listening to the master of the house play the cello and the guitar, and sipping perfectly made organic tea.

+ (talking about religion)  Chris: I used to think about that stuff a lot and what I found was that it just depressed me. So now I’m at the point in my life where I am actively trying not to think about it and just live my life and stick to my stupid, pointless pursuits, like music.
Evan: Music isn’t a stupid, pointless pursuit, though. It’s us trying to be God as best we can.

+ Church, for the first time in forever

+ Singing army call-and-responses in the car on the way home

+ If you close your eyes and then open them again, with your mind as clear as it could possibly be, it feels like you’re in Kentucky. If you drive a little further west and clear your mind again, the sky overtakes you, how immense it is, and it feels like you’re in the most beautiful, serene part of Oklahoma.

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