Thursday, July 21, 2005

Magz A Maze

She is truly an amazing woman.

Within 15 minutes of arriving Tuesday night I had downed a beer, donned a dress (a fetching apple-green sleeveless number), and was ready for adventure desert-small-town-style. I'd only brought worky-type clothes, and Magz is always more than willing to share her wardrobe with me. We are upside-down equals, meaning that what fits my hips fits her bust, and vice versa--so this dress, which was too tight upstairs and too big downstairs for da Magz, was a good fit on da Taz.

Our first stop, by virtue of necessity, was the feed store, ostensibly closed for business (but not to us of course!). After a 2-bale alfalfa transaction, we all 'set a spell' on the front loading dock with some cold beers and conversation. Magz and I share a deep friendly affection for the feed store man. He's one of those good guys, and easy to feel comfortable with in talk or silence, whichever happens.

What we all decided was to meet up later at one of Magz' desert hideaway spots for a continuation of the beers and conversation, with the addition of a guitar and possibly some target practice. The plan to dine out was quickly revamped and we were off to Jack (I.T. Box)'s place for a quick food fix, then back to Magz' to throw hay and change and head desert-ward.

Well, the moon was about full and the desert silence filled my head with a reverberation that I had been missing for a long time. There is something about vast expanses of silence and open sky that somehow empty one's head of the nattering chatter of "civilization" and allow the more timeless pace of eternity to gain a toehold. We sat, and sipped, and Magz played and sang, and then our buddy showed up and I played and sang, and the dogs wandered quietly, following their noses. (We never did get to shooting, which was fine by me, but I could have enjoyed it as well.)

It was wonderful medicine and I appreciated the space more than you could know.

It's been ages since I picked up a guitar (and maybe even longer since I've worn a dress!) but the night and the company made it all work out just fine. My fingers are still sore--darn those medium-gauge strings! I guess I need the right setting for that kind of expression, and for whatever reason, I haven't found that setting in Tucson. But under Magz' generous auspices all kinds of things can bloom.

We were out until midnight-thirty, back at her place by 1:00, which is way past my bedtime. The next morning the couch didn't free me until well after 8:00, and then it was coffee and computer time, and then Norm the roof helper came over and we all spent an hour or three solving all the dilemmas of the universe, and then Magz thought of a movie that we needed to watch, so plans for work fizzled and died. This seems to happen every time I go out to "help" Magz--I end up having a mini-vacation!

And, I always come away with more than I arrive with. Books, movies, clothes, ideas--plus she showed me how to use Blogroller (check out my sidebar!!). And we talk, and laugh, and drink, and reminisce our pasts, and plan our possible futures--the kind of sharing I don't do with very many people.

....thanks sis....

7 Comments:

At 7/21/05, 11:29 AM, Blogger Me said...

Wow... that sounds like a little bit o' heaven, Taz. Someday I hope to experience that with you all. Oh yeah.

 
At 7/21/05, 1:44 PM, Blogger Cliff said...

I felt like I was there. Goood Times.

 
At 7/21/05, 8:22 PM, Blogger magz said...

sniff sniff. it WAS great, and i love ya sis. more later, i'm a turd magz tonite.

 
At 7/21/05, 11:45 PM, Blogger Christopher said...

Hi Taza,

"Vast expanses of silence" sounds like heaven.

 
At 7/21/05, 11:57 PM, Blogger Michelle said...

Sounds like you gals had a blast! Would have loved to be a fly on da wall :)

 
At 7/22/05, 3:37 PM, Blogger I n g e r said...

Oh man... How wonderful. I feel calmer just reading about it. Can I come next time??

 
At 7/24/05, 11:51 AM, Blogger majamom said...

OWeee! been so many years since i played a few chords, the agony of attempting it at COSTCO, of all places(display of guitars a mountain high),
let me know I am to old to rebuild the callouses, but the singing is another story

 

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