nina simone, big pink blankets, and OMG this tea smells awful

It's wintertime again, even though it never really wasn't except for briefly when we had a few of those taunting, 45 degree days with a breeze that smells just...ever...so...slightly of spring, and then it snowed and got cold again so that I'm back tripping out to my car maneuvering icy steps and trying not to drop the only warm thing in my house, a mug of tea, in the 19 degree morning. It's February now, sure, and it should still be cold, but I've frankly had enough of the frosty temperatures INSIDE my house and the slow, steady pleading voices that are my flip-flops and skirts begging to be worn again that I'm ready for a warm breeze and some green leafy things starting to grow. Not that we'll get too many of those here in the Burque, but maybe just a few. For posterity.

OMG this tea TASTES awful.

In the meantime I'm dealing with my cold house during those times I'm not at work by either leaving again and going out (no longer an option now that I have run out of money and am also trying not to get sick, and need to stay near my trombone even if I'm not going to play it for the sake of musical osmosis) or cuddling up in the awesomest, ugliest quilt you ever did see. Apparently my grandmother made it, and it's BRIGHT PINK on the underside and this odd, seventies-esque LSD inspired pattern of pink, purple, and green on the other side. My mom would use it as the comforter on the pull out couch whenever we had guests, or she'd let me pull it out and cuddle up under it when I was sick. I used to play a game in the mornings, in that time between waking up and getting up, where I would put myself inside the quilt's pattern, imagining each square as a maze to be navigated in order to escape the pink fluffy monster (actually one of those pom-pom things) that inhabited the fabric. It's also the perfect blanket to snuggle under with someone special, but for now that's just my cats (I could turn this into a long rant about how lonely I am and blah blah blah, but you've heard it, and you're sick of it, so I'll just be a cat lady for the time being).

The tea is better with honey. Just slightly.

Jazz is great wintertime music. I've been reviving my love for the classics- the Louis Armstrong, the Count Basie, the Ella....and yes, the glorious, naughty, incomparable Nina Simone, as well as running a few new ideas into the mix in the way of Wayne Shorter and Chris Potter. It's a good time, inspired in part by my homesickness for good Denton jazz at the Greenhouse. I see folks on Facebook back there click on 'attending' for events such as 'One O'Clock Lab Band at the Syndicate' and 'Snarky Puppy at Haileys' and 'So-and-so quintet at Greenhouse' and man...I miss that. I really do. I think those Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday evenings were some of the best times of my life so far.

You're asking why I keep drinking the tea. I need the tea. It's the only non-caffeinated thing I have left and I need to fight the shit in my throat back with herbal shit.

So, wintertime. This winter I've done some amazing things. I climbed Cabezon Peak. It was cold and amazing. I saw the Tent Rocks, and I went sledding. My brass quintet officially became a business. I'm getting the opportunity to teach my own music class and I'm so excited about it. It's going to be awesome.

Almost as much as how awesome it is I don't have to drink this tea anymore.