Tuesday, 26 November 2013

Meet Bailey

I just realized I blogged a lot about Bailey yesterday and for all you know he could be a goat! So, I thought I should share some photos and his story...

Bailey wasn't exactly in my plan...We just crossed paths.

I was driving and he ran in front of my car. I remember thinking is that a wolf? a dog? or a creature from Narnia? He was straggled and bedraggled and quite wild at that! He had a rusted chain around his mane and his ribs poked through his coat.

After some skillful and patient coaxing with Tomaso this sweet little Italian man speaking a mixture of Italian, English, and something else I didn't quite understand, we managed to get the flee-bagged, ticked, and tape wormed infested orphan into my car and back to my house.

I spent many hours cleaning and spraying. I was completely terrified that I would wake up with ticks crawling through my hair and burrowing under my skin. Shortly after this Bailey went for his first veterinarians appointment and I had the pleasure of finding out he was not only infested with exterior creepy crawly critters but that he was also deathly ill with worms crawling and creeping inside him too most notably his heart. Bailey had heartworm!  I too was recovering from a worm in my heart so we seemed an ideal match :) We were hopeless heartbreakers together. Pat Bentar's "Love is a Battlefield" became our theme song over the summer of 2012!

After about a month, 50 posters later, radio ads, and missing dog alerts NOBODY CLAIMED HIM and he wasn't exactly what one would call a cheap stray. Our NEW best friends were Jennifer, Ashley, Mallory, and Natalie all from Cottage Country Animal Clinic. What would I do with him? What, What, What!!! .......

This infested creature had immediately stolen my worm infested heart and I knew I had to help him get better someway somehow and that was my therapy. I didn't realize it at the time, but I needed him just as much as he needed me. So, over the course of a summer with arsenic injections and a very long list of meds that I hadn't budgeted in for Bailey lounged on my sofa, my bed, my floor, my hammock, at my feet , and mostly under my piano bench when I was writing songs late at night after coming home from  earning our keep. My Bailey was  lethargic and tired. He needed to rest up and heal. He became my own!

By fall he was robust and strong- By winter he was pulling me on a sled along the icy shores of Georgian Bay--By summer he was swimming and making huge bellyflopping waves off the rocks. You no longer could see his ribs poking through his shaggy fur. His coat was glistening...We were complimented on every outing. We were a gypsy pair he and I. His markings were made known- one floppy ear, a white chest, and a DISTINCT black cross on his tail, the description of a true crossbreed or an angel? your pick. He was my diamond in the ruff. My lesson learned-never judge a.book by its cover and have the courage to trust again.

Once the first summer was over I had prepared myself for the worst, to find him a good home.  I was single, going on the road, free to explore and discover. I felt I couldn't have anything holding me back...Yet, there he was every day and every night under my piano bench, beside my bed, crying when I left the room, ecstatic when I came back, and clumsy as ever so I realized that sometimes life happens when you least expect it. I received a very special gift, a very loyal friend, and a special angel. He may not be able to talk but he sure can sing and he isn't going anywhere we're attached at the hip heartache to heartache (Because WE ARE YOUNG)! Here are some fun pics of Bailey (one with his fitted headphones that I'd mentioned in my last blog).

I just wanted to tell you a bit more in case you really thought he was goat!


Monday, 25 November 2013

Festive Thoughts!

I feel the holiday season is upon us. It was pushed in sometime over the week-end on the edge of a Northern chill.
Yet here at my piano I am at home and  feel warm and cozy.  My twinkle lights are up and my candles lit and Bailey is lying lazily (sleeping) at my feet under the piano bench. It's his favorite hideout and every now and then when I sing a high note he howls.       
Bailey has a very unique howl. It can be alarming and rough-extremely piercing and mournful. This wasn't always the case though. When Bailey first moved in he used to burrow his head under my bed and sofa when I would be practicing. So, I resorted to fitted headphones which seemed to do the trick for a while until he ate them. As we got to know each other better Bailey started to sing for me, and I became aware of his hidden talent. He's still nervous however when other people are around that he doesn't know. He's working on overcoming his fear of stage fright and aspires for a career on the stage. I do wonder whether he's always been a secret songster.

Over the week-end I wrote a new song. I was at my piano like I am now and I jut heard the song...I felt the song. I couldn't leave till it was through. It actually made me cry.
Every time I write a new song, I write a story. To me it's like it has its own little being, with its own very alive character . I'm really only the channel it chooses to travel through. When I look back over my pen marked pages of lyrics and scribbled charts I see all my friends and there's something really wonderful in that. It's like tracking steps, feelings, pathways, joys, sorrows, and all of those great thoughts, times, and experiences to music and expression.
The capture below is me playing at my very first piano. I was always intrigued when I was little with the inside of a piano. I used to remove the mantle piece so I could see the hammers working their magic. I especially liked playing fast songs to see how quick the hammers moved...It's fascinating, try it sometime. Just a bit from my past there. Love old memories-love new memories-love memories in the making. Enjoy your day. Make your tread worthwhile.


Sunday, 17 November 2013

Where is The Gypsy Queen Caravan Going Today?

This morning I'm heading north to the wilderness to perform an afternoon concert in Powassan. I did some research and found that the traditional native meaning for "Powassan" is an Indian name which means a "bend". The original settlement was at a bend of the South River. Therefore the name is an appropriate one, I do believe. 
I've been busy baking!!! Today's homemade desserts for the concert include some Chewy, chocolate brownies with sliced almonds, raspberry  and walnut flats, and the ever so popular homemade family date squares mhh (sinful).
I'll be taking time to track down my roots and some old family ties. Starting with the Powassan Hotel and my Great Grandfather's family home.  The Moloney side of me immigrated from Ireland settling first in Barrie, Ontario and then later moving to Powassan to run the Powassan Hotel. My Great Grandfather Dr. Peter Joseph Moloney was raised in Powassan. He was a pioneer in Science and had the privilege of working on the "Best and Banting" team http://drpetermoloney.com/.
I'm also going to check out http://www.gieslerboats.ca/ which started a great love of my Grandfather's boat building. My Grandfather spent his summers in Powassan and found his love for boat building there. I think he passed that love for traditional boats and the water onto me.
Well, I must be on my way. Till we meet again...

Saturday, 16 November 2013

Made it to the Plains...


Hopefully you can find me in this great wide cosmic cyberspace that I'm floating around in. It's quite a height, it has depth, and appears wide, a very round  circle of its own. Yet somehow I'm really quite excited to go exploring  into these unfamiliar territories. Meet you on the plains! Soon...