The pies are in the oven to the tune of Patty Griffin’s 1000 Kisses. The timer is set and I’m at the kitchen table having that second cup of coffee still in my bathrobe and slippers (you know what I’m talking about).
I’ve moved on to Cory Branan’s “12 Songs” and listening for the first time only to discover he has a song called “Sweet Janine” and it makes me think everything’s coming up Dunbar.
And as I reduce the oven temp from 425 down to 350 for the last 45 minutes of baking time, I’m reminded of how many things I have that inspire me to thank our good good Father up in Heaven and thank you, the hands and feet and hearts doing the work of our creator here on earth.
Last weekend I sat in a house I’ve never been to before and ten people gathered around to listen to songs they had mostly never heard before. We laughed, we cried, we talked about country music and ate incredible snacks and we hugged goodbye and left as friends. It felt like magic, like healing, like respite, like we were exactly where we were supposed to be even though we didn’t know it until we got there.
And then you know what? I went to a wine bar the next night to another group of friends and it happened all over again. Right then, right there, when the roads were bad and the night was dark and our team had won and we laughed and cried and told stories and we found ourselves right where we were meant to be.
And so thank you. For all the magic I’ve found like Carol Burnett opening up gag peanut brittle so that poofy snakes leap out. For me it’s opening the can to find love and peace and joy and laughter with you guys. On the Facebook, Milwaukee, St. Louis. Kerrville, TX, Grand Rapids, Chicago, Madison, Denver, Hastings, Norton, KS, Kansas City, Lincoln, Omaha, Hastings, Door County, Seward, the O.C., Song School, Oberursel, Frankfurt, Hermannsburg, Verden, Nashville, and McCool Junction- and those are just the places I can think of off the top of my head.
It gets dark over here sometimes, like the light can’t shine through. But then it does and you show up and you let me sing you songs you’ve never heard before and you ask me about them and you tell me they helped you and you encourage me to keep going and so I do.
When I went in to record my last record I wrote a big long list of your names on a piece of notebook paper and I stuck it in my guitar case and it’s still in there a year and half later. I took you with me to the studio and then I’ve taken you with me to all those other places too. When it gets dark over here, sometimes I’ll see that folded up piece of paper with your name on it and it’s like one little birthday candle lit on a birthday cake. A little light in the dark. Then that one candle sparks another, then another and then I remember what I’m doing and the remembering feels real good.
This thing I’m writing? I wrote it for you. I write it, then I sing it, then I muse, “I can’t wait to sing it for him. I wonder what she’ll think. Gosh, I hope they like it.”
Happy Thanksgiving from the home office. All of us at Hope Dunbar Music (it’s just me, you guys) want to say thank you for all you’ve done. We (I) couldn’t do what We (I) do without you guys. Lots of love.