Sunset On My First Month

Today was one of those free work days where I had the luxury of drifting from task to task. My list was so long that I was able to choose each chore as my mood struck. Only the IRS and the necessity of getting our quarterly payroll report postmarked before the post office closed at 3 brought me out of this lovely haze for a brief hour. It's a good thing, too, as  the computer I inherited in the Padre's office will rush for no one. Instead of getting frustrated, I used it as an opportunity to hone my zen-master skills. 

As the day drew to an end, I headed out to Holly's to check on her kitten. She left for Austin this morning, and we are trading cat-sitting gigs this week. The timing worked out perfectly; we will actually pass each other on I-10 sometime Thursday afternoon. Since the sun was going down, I grabbed my camera, hoping for a pretty sunset. It is so dreamy on this edge of Marfa, and as I passed the cemetery that runs along the road to her house, I imagined the lucky souls lying there only having to rise as far as the surface of the ground to be in heaven. 

Driving back into town, I fully expected to have some difficulty parking in my usual places right next to my house or the bar, and it would have been ironic as I had just boasted about the lack of parking issues in my last blog. Ballroom Marfa was hosting a concert at the Crowley Theater which is just a block over from my house, basically across the street from Padre's. Even though the show had begun by this time, I had my choice of parking spaces. Where were all of the cars? One of those mysteries of Marfa. I quickly changed from my cut-offs to a little dress and headed over to see the Dirty Projectors. It was nice to buy a glass of wine from two of our regular Padre's customers; their turn to play bar. 

I enjoyed the show, and for the first half tried to think how I would describe the Dirty Projectors' sound in words. Imagine six people playing their instruments as if they couldn't hear what the others were doing. It might not seem like such a good thing, but  the angelic vocals of the three women in the band transcended the music. In one song, in fact, all three clapped a different rhythm while singing in unison. I couldn't really imagine listening to their music without being able to see them. We were lucky. I spent the second half of the show wondering what I would eat if I could have anything I wanted, knowing that I couldn't get anything I wanted at this hour in Marfa. 
I came home and settled for carrots and hummus.