Wednesday, September 25, 2024

Dusty Boots

Sometime in early 2023, (I think), Val was invited to join a girl-band. They needed someone who could tickle a keyboard. (?) 

I, personally, was super proud of her for saying, "yes, I will be your Laurie Partridge. Without the vocals." 

Last year they did a gig in a bar, and all of them were squeezed onto a stage the size of a small two-piece powder room. I took photos, but you can only see 4 gals in the front. Everyone else was behind and in the shadows. 

This year, they did another show, this time for family and friends. This time in Val's backyard. This time the stage was the covered terrace, the audience sat on lawnchairs under the moon and a plum tree. (I don't know if it's actually a plum tree.)

This year her (local) grandkids sat on the lawn right in front of the stage, watching their Omi do what all Omi's should be doing ...being cool as frick, smiling with joy, using her gifts, sharing her property, making the world a more beautiful place, one harmonized song at a time.

This year the event took place on the last Saturday in September. Which was one day before the last Sunday in September. Two years ago on the last Sunday in September, John died. And I was feeling the weight of that anniversary when I arrived (late) to the concert. 

I parked on that familiar Greendale road, down from the house aways, behind all the other cars parked ahead of me. As I pulled my lawnchair from the back of Mitzi, I could hear the music coming from the back side of the house. It was joyous. 

I walked across the front lawn, crossed the driveway and turned behind the garage to see a hundred (?) people on the lawn, Val and her band under her patio lights and started to cry.

It was just so perfect. 

Their yard was meant for this. She was meant to do this. John would have LOVED everything about this; his Vally playing an assortment of new-to-her songs with confidence and excellence, his yard full of encouraging, fun, supportive, appreciative people, including his kids and their littles. 

I was so, so proud of her for stepping out of her comfort zone and enlarging her life to include those Dusty Boot gals. 

It's been a hard two years. As you could imagine. But little rays of sunshine do show up, and when you witness it, from the corner of the garage, it's overwhelming. 

Vanessa posted this to my FB: 

I love this so much but it makes me cry because my Dad would have LOVED it so much and because I'm just so freaking proud of my mom for her spirit, resilience, talent, all of it.

Yes and Amen, Vaness.

The photos and videos below are for The Dusty Boots. I wasn't sure how else to share them with y'all. 

Dusty Boots? Looking forward to many more years of beautiful evenings of listening to y'all sing.

Val? I love you. xo











































































































































































































Video snippets of their amazing harmonies:


















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