"Around the house by the sea, the scent of roses and raspberry leaves."

It'd be good to read beard-o's post before or after this one.

We're back and alive and pretty tired. Boy Scouts died, many others were injured and they are all heroes now.

Jesse and Mary have every right to brag. Walking through their marvelous home conjured up thoughts of various people - friends that I would have loved to have been at the moment. But still, what a time we had. I don't remember Jesse's smile being so bright, or Mary's voice being so cute... or that freaking dog being so awkwardly huge.

Before that, there was much talk of freckles, vegetarianism, card game rules, Christian Romance, arranged marriages and golden birthdays. Jeremy's girlfriend has a pink and green room, but it's mostly pink. Hot pink. Her sister's room in the basement, where we lodged for a few nights, is a shrine to... some dude that watched over us at night. Being in there for so many hours, consecutively, when we are our most vulnerable has an effect on you. Really, we didn't get large amounts of sleep very night... but... still... it's like... hypothetically, say two guys go to see... a chick flick, like Sex and the City... for whatEVER reason. Anyway. They're in the theater, barfing and wringing their eyes out... but then they begin to start responding to the fashion and the clothes. Not critiquing, really, but just noticing them. The point is, sleeping in the shrine of Nick Jonas (of the Jonas Brothers) was NOT like that at all. It was scary, and then annoying.

The stay in Pella was refreshing and overwhelming and hilarious and interesting and poignant and chaotic and exhausting. It would have only been better if we could have stayed longer and/or we were skilled in floral craft.

Also, it was good to see a golden, smiley, feisty friend again.

The show was in Iowa City. While Lisa's plane maneuvered the skies to bring her to the venue, with Craig and Marcel, on time, the majority of the city was either under threat or serious flood damage, or already beneath several feet of water. We saw abandoned cars in parking lots with water about up to covering them completely. Community members, working together, sandbagging (not a dirty innuendo) and toiling to seal homes and businesses. Oddly, we drove through these scenes to attend a concert at a packed, small and intimate theater. The cafes and bars around the venue were packed with people drinking coffee and having a good time. A surreal drive and wait in line.

Iron & Wine plays a little like a jazz combo - every freaking musician on stage is extremely talented, but there were no outlandish solos or spotlighting moments. Watching and attempting to drink in the songs (see: Woman King and Wolves (Song of the Shepherd's Dog)) can be boggling, straight-up jarring, because there are lots of sounds and careful touches dancing around to the song. Couple that with Sam and sister Sarah's vocals, brooding and flowing about the acoustics of the space (see: Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car or, especially, The Devil Never Sleeps). Do you sit forward in your seat with your palms facing upwards and your back straight, or do you sit deep and curl up like you were in a living room? Would it be redundant to say that I began with the former and moved toward the latter?
There were several moments when tears wanted out, and I wanted them out too, just do it because I'm shaking here. "I heard from someone you're still pretty and then, they went on to say that the pearly gates had some eloquent graffiti like 'we'll meet again' and 'fuck the man!' and 'tell my mother not to worry.'"

Love And Some Verses was performed at a more upbeat pace. Sarah Beam has a terribly beautiful voice. Bird Stealing Bread is one of the first songs I had heard of Iron & Wine and I hadn't noticed how gorgeous and vulnerable the lyrics are. Here.

tell me, baby, tell me
are you still on the stoop
watching the windows close?
i've not seen you lately
on the street by the beach
or places we used to go

i've a picture of you
on our favorite day
by the seaside
there's a bird stealing bread
that i brought
out from under my nose

tell me, baby, tell me
does his company make
light of a rainy day?
how i've missed you lately
and the way we would speak
and all that we wouldn't say

do his hands in your hair
feel a lot like a thing
you believe in
or a bit like a bird
stealing bread out from under your nose?

tell me, baby, tell me
do you carry the words
around like a key or change?
i've been thinking lately
of a night on the stoop
and all that we wouldn't say

if i see you again
on the street by the beach
in the evening
will you fly like a bird
stealing bread out from under my nose?

The playedlastnight website doesn't have our show available, so I'm going to listen to the Calvin show in April that was just at our fingertips, before flying away into the night.

Looking forward to talking to you, all of you, again.