Cat Jahnke Mews

I remember reading a Farley Mowat book in which he discusses his switch from a regular sleep schedule to one more in tune with the wolves he was studying.  Instead of the usual 8 hours straight, his sleep allotment came in much smaller increments spaced throughout the day.  This is much how Darren and I survive in the days leading up to a long tour, although the biggest difference between Mowat and me is that I can usually only fit in one nap in a 24-hour cycle.

I can’t believe how much there is to do!!  Besides just packing clothes and gear, we had to coordinate merch, keep the promotion in motion, clean the house for our house-sitter…  Darren even took time to remove the sticky gunk left behind on my guitar case after a run-in with some duct tape.  Peanut butter works like a charm!  A messy, unappetizing, “may contain traces of nuts” charm!

We didn’t have time to consume food ourselves, but we had to make sure the guitar case was fed.

So while the case ate like a king all out of Wonder Bread, I prepared an all-day buffet equally as nourishing:

Part of this complete breakfast!

By the end of the day I was so tired that I just barely remember giggling while describing a t-shirt caption idea.  I will share it here knowing that it makes absolutely no sense, but I just want to prove my exhaustion:

It supposed to say “Oops!” but there’s an “O” missing.  This was side-splititngly funny to me at 4 am.  I don’t think you’d truly grasp the hilarity unless you stayed up for 30 hours straight, subsisting only on “baked not fried” crackers, OR if you banged your head really hard.  I recommend neither; I’m always up for a laugh, but this one’s just not worth it…

I was so pleased to stop in Wabigoon for my first show of the tour.  Thank you for hosting us John!  I hope you didn’t mind me grilling you about your job as a “flight medic”.  I’m just so fascinated with people who have that kind of information in their head, and those kind of adventures in their past.  I wanna learn how to trach someone at 20,000 feet!  (Although with my level of aerophobia I think I would find it difficult to wield a scalpel while simultaneously clutching my armrests…)

9/26/07 – Turk’s Coffee House, Prince Albert, SK

OK. Here we go again. I think I made it halfway through my last tour blog before the posts became sporadic. And by sporadic I mean

If you were to ask any of my close friends how they would describe me, and if you assured them that absolute honesty was necessary, I have no doubt that each and every one of them would mention something about how I’m always late. Most often it’s harmless and they forgive me quickly for leaving them to wait. Today I’m embarrassed…

It is 7:30 pm in Saskatchewan and I’m due to play in Prince Albert at 8 pm. I am 250 kilometers away. Thankfully the venue owner Rick is a cool cat and will take advantage of my tardiness by offering a drink special to the few who (hopefully!!) stay until I arrive. How did this happen?!

The last few days have been nearly more than my body can take: preparing to leave for tour, falling in love with a sewing machine and doing my best to provide some “fair trade” options for merch sales, recording a Christmas album that will be with me on the road, and trying trying trying to get some quality time in with the kids before I say goodbye for a month. Several things have been neglected in order to make that happen: eating, sleeping and bathing.

Yuck.

At 8 am this morning I was catching the only winks I’d get all night, crashed out on the floor of our isolation booth while Darren finished mastering the Christmas tunes. Needless to say, less than restful. Unfortunately my moniker doesn’t come with any perks, like the ability to stretch out on a rug in a sunbeam and recharge within minutes.

Up, packed, loaded, gassed, on the road. Awesome. Then the exhaustion set in. We were several precious kms away from home when we realized that a crucial element of the album (we’d killed ourselves to complete) had been forgotten when the songs were bounced. That warranted a rapid homecoming. All right – re-bounced and checked and double-checked and thrown up onto the server in case of emergency. Away we go.

We were several even MORE precious kms away from home when we realized that we had also forgotten to pack my microphone. It was still back in our studio, plugged in as the talk-back mic. (Apparently brains work better when they’re fed and rested.) Homeward bound once more, and now several hours late.

When it comes to gigs, I’m sure that I have left some promoters a little short of breath, but I always arrive in the nick of time. (A trick I learned from my bass player – thanks Patrick!) But if Rick’s holding his breath now, he’s a goner. Let’s hope I’m as playfully nervous after the show has hit the fan…

BEAUTIFUL sky today and I would have loved to share it here. Unfortunately it did not translate on our outdated camera – Darren astutely offered that taking a picture of a sunset is like taking a picture of a comedian and showing it to people to prove that the fella/lady was funny – so instead I present a piece entitled Glints Off The Carcasses.

***

Wow. Artists: if you want to play to a great crowd, go to PA!

I arrived at Turk’s Coffee House and some boys were playing guitar, jamming in the corner. People were chatting, clapping, drinking coffee. I show up with 17 loads of gear and trample all over their nice, quiet evening.

It was getting late, and as people were trickling out during our setup I was concerned that our rushing and anxiety and expenditure of our few remaining nonessential calories on lugging would go to waste. I was SO wrong!! This was the perfect way to start a tour. Great people, great room, great host, great sound gear. Despite my lack of sleep, my lack of food, and my obvious “car make-up” I had an amazing evening. Thanks so much to Rick and Nathan for having me play. I can’t wait to come back!!

After the show I spoke with Becky. She is taking environmental biology in university. She told me some pretty disgusting things. Check this out:

“The Migratory Bird Program, which monitors the health of bird populations, has seen its budget cut by 50 percent;” he said, “and the budget for the National Wildlife Areas, a program that protects nationally significant habitats for wildlife and birds, has been slashed from $1.9 million to zero.”

Now I don’t claim to be educated on the reasons WHY this would seem like a good idea, so if anyone out there has any suggestions, PLEASE let me know. I’m glad I’m so tired or I’d be too riled up to sleep.

Speaking of migrating birds, today we saw an absolute HURRICANE of fluttery goodness. The most impressive photo I took (which wasn’t much to begin with) was ruined even further by my curiosity. I pressed a button to “enhance” the photo and it saved the changes permanently. Yah, I definitely think all those red dots are an improvement. I think you can still get the gist of the tidal wave of geese.

Growing up as a doctor’s daughter I was accustomed to grateful patients obviously demonstrating their appreciation to him in tangible ways. There were always more presents for dad under the tree at Christmastime. It was clear by their actions that his charges cared a great deal for their doctor.

In fact, while I was in high school I volunteered at a thrift shop and during one memorable coffee break I popped into the lounge while some elderly ladies were discussing their health. They each insisted that their doctor was the best and even confessed to having a wee crush on him. Turns out they were all talking about the same man: my dad!! What an uncomfortable coincidence!

In any case, I was proud of my father and became used to the idea that doctors were all nice people who genuinely wanted to help. I would rage at folks complaining about the medical profession in general: impersonal analysis, insensitive conduct, and just plain malice. Doctors, it seemed, weren’t allowed to have bad days.

Then I came to Winnipeg. For years now I’ve been searching for a doctor who had the time to listen to and track a history, a creative doctor who treated the patient and not just the symptoms. I’ve been repeatedly disappointed.

Of course there have been the few who have stood out and made me feel safe and cared for. But for the most part, a universal boredom seems to have taken over the offices I’ve visited and I’m left wondering if it is a question of overworked physicians coping with a paranoid public, or just plain indifference.

Today, however, my spirits were buoyed. I had been dreading my early appointment. Not only was it at my usual bedtime (8:45 am) and therefore challenging to attend, but it was regarding an issue that, while not life-threatening, was still upsetting. Curiously, I have never felt more soothed by a so-so diagnosis. My doctor was gentle, compassionate and sensitive.

It’s easy to stare at the negatives, and I think we are all on our toes waiting for criticism. I once called a restaurant after having food delivered to tell them how delicious it was. I kept saying, “It was so good! Sooo good!” The man, distressed, said, “The food was no good?” “No!” I said, “SO good!” He was confused by my compliment, expecting no feedback but complaints.

I am thankful for the opportunity today to feel wrong about my recent disillusionment regarding a potential trend in our health care system. I’m sure I will be frustrated again, but right now is good. And so I’m off to eat a bushel of apples…

Hallelujah for Quincy Marie’s! Yummy food, GREAT people and décor that matches my outfit! I spent all day sitting on their padded chairs by the fireplace, reading a book. If only everyone could have a job as great as mine…

Also, I’m getting very good at putting on makeup whenever and where-ever possible. Mascara in the car? No problem! Eyeliner in the bathroom on a peculiarly wet counter? I’m a pro!

Another perk to my profession is the post-performance conversations. So many topics are discussed: hospitality in different cultures, unusual fears and phobias (barfing and garden gnomes), and affectionate desert fauna. I’m so grateful to everyone who shares their story with me; it’s easy to get caught up in the routine of being a musician and I appreciate the insight into other people’s lives…

I don’t want to lie to you: it’s not May 27. It’s actually a few days later. In fact I typed tomorrow’s blog before today’s. Am I psychic? No. Just really really good at procrastinating.

I need a blood heater. I’m always cold! I’d think my heart was broken except that I’m too darn happy. We’re staying in a lovely basement suite (thank you Gail!) but it’s very chilly. When I used to play piano recitals I would run my elbows under hot water to warm up my hands; it worked like a charm. But hand is to elbow what entire body is to ???

Honestly I’m glad that it’s a little cooler, that way I can put off wearing shorts and skirts: not my cup of tea. But in May should I really be contemplating parkas? I’m very good at making goose bumps…

Thanks to Patrick and Mike and Laura and Jeanette (sp?) at the Ironwood. Oh, and to Paul the chef! Once again I was confronted by familiar faces from the past and it was such a lovely feeling. Isn’t it strange how years may have passed and yet there’s still such a strong bond? Sometimes even stronger, thanks to hindsight and experience.

So many things to contemplate and internalize. And while it’s all been positive, it’s hard to come up with a phrase to describe it except to say that this tour is turning into a real mind—f***…

It was a gorgeous day in Edmonton and my feet are killing me. I sure appreciate the grid system that allows me to walk confidently from my hotel to a restaurant, but the ease with which I could get around kept me on the streets longer than my body would have liked.

Canadian Tire Money Tally: $4.35 (Thanks to Jeff for the extra 50 cents. You’re making my dream come true!)