A weekend of gifts

The last four days have contained an onslaught of gifts. Some were literal, like all the goodie and swag bags from attending BlogHer Food. (More on that soon.) Some gifts were emotional, like an exchange of emails from a reader of this blog. The gift of those conversations was powerful and profoundly healing. The connections I get by laying myself “out there” is nothing short of amazing and fuels my desire to continue on my path of vulnerability. Yesterday I got a soul-feeding gift, spending the afternoon swapping stories and music with a talented friend who I firmly believe is going places. As I drove home from my days in Texas, I thought about the people who gave me their time and the people to whom I gave my time. I marvel at the connectedness of it all.

Almost the minute I arrived home yesterday evening I popped over to my neighbor’s house to deliver a gift and steal a little verbal processing, which I do more often than I like to admit. After I finished she said, “You have a neat life, Sheri.” I replied, “Yep. I sure do.”

I’m incredibly grateful for this life. Things are getting much better.

Go buy Spirit Family Reunion. It’s like pouring joy into your ears.

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 My favorite song on the album is a cover called Green Rocky Road (MP3). It was really, really fun and powerful to see performed live and 5 feet from me in Austin. The whole album is a fantastic folky bluegrass collection. The CD packaging is simple and letterpress printed. I ordered mine from their Bandcamp page and got the instant download. You should do that right now. I’ll wait.

They were at a SXSW showcase sponsored by Paste Magazine, Sennheiser and Newport Folk Festival.  For a song or two I simply enjoyed their music and hipster folk style, but after a few I realized I’d heard them before. Last summer I listened to the stream of The Newport Folk Festival on NPR and remember loving a band. This was that band!

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Here’s their Tiny Desk Concert from last Fall. It makes me want to pick up my banjo and actually learn how to play it. To be fair, though, lots of my music catalog does that. 

Why Monday was so damn great

If you follow me on social media you noticed some intense vague tweeting yesterday. By the end of the day I was getting phone calls and texts from close friends who were beginning to get concerned for my health and welfare.

I tweeted that because a property management had poured a few gallons of buzz kill right on top of my head. I decided a couple of weeks ago to rent out my house and move to a new place, even though I’ve never done anything like that before in my life. Hi, I’m Sheri. I am leaning into the discomfort. Please pass the carbs.

Let me back up, though. The buzz that was getting killed was a conversation I had just walked out of with my new landlord. We were talking about my plans and she was advising me on my situation. “Sheri, you don’t need a property management company. You can do this all on your own. It’s easy!” After asking her a bunch of questions I got a little confidence in the notion. Then, a few minutes later, we discovered that who I’d love to rent my house to was an applicant she was about to turn down for the house I was renting.

One of the four women called me yesterday afternoon and we set an appointment for them to stop by in the evening. I came home last night (grateful I’d vacuumed, mopped and cleaned over the weekend) and raced around the house wiping down counters, making beds and picking up Legos. They arrived, absolutely flipped out at how awesome my house was, were totally fine with the amount of rent I’m asking and said yes to the house. If I’d had had contracts ready they would have signed them. They even have a 5th roommate to loop into their arrangement. This is huge, epic, perfect, exciting news for them. And this is huge, epic, perfect, exciting news for us. They even know the guys who are renting 2 doors down. All of them are current or former students at the medical school 5 blocks away.

 Let me back up again… Late last week I was surfing Craigslist and plugged in a search term for my favorite neighborhood. There’s *never* anything in this neighborhood. Most of the houses are huge and 300k or more and the smaller rentals are hard to come by because they get snatched up and people camp in them forever. But there was a new listing. I clicked it. I blinked. I rubbed my eyes. I blinked again. I recognized that house.

I didn’t need to look at the address. I knew that house. It was immediately next door to the house of my dear friends, David and K.C. The same people who let me wail my eyes out on their sofa 6 weeks ago. The David who used to teach me guitar. The K.C. whose concert I took my kids to on Friday night. Where I sat and listened to this song, with my son on my lap and my daughter on my shoulder. I listened to this song and dropped tears onto their little heads.

 

May those who love is a stranger find in you generous friends. ~ K.C. Clifford

 

 

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