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Wednesday, November 13, 2013


I found out earlier today (the hard way) that I am not the only one around here that likes banana bread.  I had pulled a loaf from the freezer earlier this morning and decided I needed to quality test it a little while ago.  Sis positioned herself so I would be sure not to "forget" about her.  Like that would eeeeeven be possible.  To torture her a little, I turned around, with my back to her.  To the other side of me she went, giving me the "I am helpless, homeless, and starving" look.  She had everything but a little sign to hold up.

I have zero tolerance for that look so I gave her a bite just like I always do.  She snarfed it and then began the campaign for more.  I knew she loved pecans but was unclear about bananas.  I guess combined with butter and sugar, anything is a go.  Bananas?  Why not.

Yesterday was a wild day for one Benji Harris.  As many of you know, Scarletta was involved in a bad wreck that totaled their van and trailer and tossed instruments, drums cases, and cymbals into the ditch they rolled over into.  About a half mile or less from their hotel for the night, they hit black ice and if you've ever experienced it, you know that helpless feeling as you watch yourself careen into what ever is in your path.  In their case, it was the median.  It's a miracle no one was seriously hurt though Emilee got a nice goose egg and small cut on her head.  Bumps, bruises, and cuts, and the good news is, they are all OK.  Benji was not with them, as he'd flown to Miami for Andrea's birthday.  He was to have flown someplace to meet the band for their next show but the wreck changed all that.  Instead yesterday he was desperately trying to get back to Nashville to help them unload when they arrived home, and do whatever he could to give them all a chance to rest and process what had just happened and meet with the insurance adjuster.  

His wonderful MIL drove him thirty minutes to Fort Lauderdale to catch an earlier flight, and with a two hour layover at DFW, we had planned to go see him.  Then he called saying that that his flight out was delayed.  No layover.  He'd be lucky to catch his connection on to Nashville.  Next call I get is, he's on the ground taxiing to the gate, has to change terminals, and has 15 minutes to make it to his connecting flight or we'll need to go get him, and let him spend the night with us.

Cue the Mission Impossible music.  He's already asked the flight crew to alert the other flight he's on his way and not to shut the door, pleeeeze.  Polite smile.  They don't hold flights anymore.  Tick...tick...tick.  I'm about to put my clothes back on to head for DFW when the phone rings.  I answered and said "I'm on my way" when he says "I ran like Forrest Gump and made the plane".   At this point, I can't stop laughing.  I have a bad visual in my head of him hauling a** through DFW, dragging his carry on, probably wearing cowboy boots.  OMG.  Such is the life of a musician or at least this one anyway. Onward to a new safe van and thank you to all for your prayers for Scarletta.  I know they felt every single one.

Tomorrow is my FOS (Feast of Sharing) volunteer day at Fair Park and my job is Host/Greeter.  I figure that may be one of the better jobs, if you don't want to wear gravy for 4.5 hours.  I'll know more tomorrow after my shift so stay tuned.  This ought to be a hoot!   

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