I played a cool show last night.
I got my new winter boots in the mail just before I was going to head out for the show yesterday, so I put them on and they were great all night.
I left at 3pm and got home last night at 1:30am.
That's a loooong ass time for $400.
But, it's also the only gig I have for the next two weeks, so I am praising God.
Rob owes me $200 and he's giving me that on Monday so that will help too.
And I could return my new boots if I was starving but the boots are just perfect and I can wear them with all my holiday clothes and still feel dressed up so I'm keeping them!
Money is not going to bully me.
I have Faith.
Last night the people and the atmosphere and the staff and the beer was all absolutely delightful.
I felt appreciated and I was appreciative.
The place is beautiful.
The bar is beautiful.
I remembered everything I've been reading all night as I played.
I remembered to tell myself I was doing a great job.
I remembered to say "I approve of myself" every time I faltered.
I remembered Mister Wattles' idea from the 1800's that you must always fill your current place even bigger than it requires if you have hopes of being in a higher better place.
I was bigger and better than my current place required last night.
And people noticed.
A man and his sister came up to me at the end.
I noticed that they were listening to me rather intently as the evening went on.
I did my best for them.
They bought five of my albums at the end of the evening and one of my holiday t shirts.
They told me that they came in for a beer but didn't know that there was going to be live music at all.
The man told me he runs a company that helps creative people make better business plans and get business deals so they can actually succeed monetarily.
Sounds like my kind of business!
He said he understood that I'm trying to succeed on a higher level.
He said that I shouldn't give up no matter what.
He said I have to continue to believe.
I said I would love to be solvent.
He said he knows a musician friend who recently, finally, signed a multi-million dollar publishing contract.
He said you never know when it's going to suddenly work out.
He said if you keep going and don't give up it will work out.
I was meant to hear that.
I'm glad they came in.
I was meant to be there last night, in my pretty cream lace dress and my black beret and my brand new boots.
I packed up and got out onto the snowy roads around ten o'clock.
The brewery is one hundred miles from Rob's house.
The snow was coming down in a heavy solid whiteness that made it nearly impossible to see.
I headed out of the tiny town of New Ulm into the farm fields of southern Minnesota.
For sixty miles at least there was nothing but pitch dark and white earth.
The road was completely covered in a few inches of blowing shifting snow.
There were no lines visible.
I could see where the road dropped off into the ditches on either side, but that was all.
I encountered only a handful of cars coming the other direction in two or three hours.
Most of the time I could see only six feet ahead of me, just driving steady down the center of the snow white asphalt, doing about twenty miles an hour, not a human soul or any sign of life anywhere for miles.
I talked to myself, "You're doing it. You're doing great. You're going to make it."
Eventually I reached the more populated outskirts of the city and, behold, there were electric lights illuminating the four lane highway.
There were plow trucks clearing snow and putting down sand and salt.
I sped up to forty-five miles an hour.
I even passed a couple people who had no perspective and didn't realize that this was a piece of cake compared to the rural driving.
I pulled up to Rob's house at 1:30am.
I thanked God, yes I did.
I thought about how I love the woods and the wilderness.
But I thought about how nice it was to pull into Rob's cozy neighborhood with the houses nestled close together and everyone knowing each other and everyone available to help each other.
I thought about how it's great to be able to see all the stars in the night sky, for sure, but it's also really great to be able to see the damn road when you're out in a car by yourself in a snow storm.
December begins and I have plans to write to all the folk festivals in America and apply to be on their roster for 2020.
I'm going to start today.
That's the next level and I want to shoot for it now.
I'm going to work hard getting those applications and emails sent in these first days of December.
Gratitude and Love to you today.
I'm going out to shovel snow now.