Cochrane is farther than I think from Medicine Hat and my GPS, which is normally oh so reliable tells me to turn left off of a bridge. “Recalculating… recalculating…”

But I eventually make it.

Jo-Anne is an artist and you can tell that immediately when you walk into her home. First of all, she just left the door hanging open and went back to making dinner – so I walked in and was greeted by several statues, paintings, and pieces of art in the main lobby. Eventually I found Jo-Anne and she told me that her late husband was also and artist – and you can tell – 2 artists make a lot of art and her house is a testament to their productivity. Her daughter Mary is also an artist – an aspiring horror filmmaker.

After a lovely fish dinner, during which Mary tells me her favourite horror films (Nightmare on Elm Street – old school!), I set up in an art filled living room. Soon enough people arrive and we all mingle. It’s a nice group that seems somewhat linked by a home schooling network (Mary and some of the other teenagers that arrive are all home schooled).

Another old friend, Sally, who lives 15 minutes away, also joins us. We knew each other back when I worked as a set and lighting designer and she was a stage manager and we’re now in completely different lines of work, not seeing each other in years.

Although we have easily over 20 people, the show is oddly quiet – to me at least. To this point, I’ve prided myself on perfecting some of my song introductions with jokes that always seem to get a laugh – but tonight, many of them don’t smile, so I’m not sure how well I’m connecting with them. But at intermission, I talk to enough of them that I feel like it’s going well enough.

One nice guy gives me the secret origin of the word “Wiccan” (from My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish Wiccan Wedding). Apparently it’s derived from a plant that when applied to certain sensitive body parts would make you feel like you were flying. These would be occasionally applied to broomsticks, which people would ride – hence witches “flying” on broomsticks. Innnnteresting.

The second set feels a bit better. In the front is a nice family with two kids – the youngest boy looks like he wants to fall asleep, curled up with his mom – but he’s a trooper and stays awake till the end – and when presented with 3 options for an encore he chooses all of them. We make up a song called “Falling Star” about the latest meteorite crash in Saskatchewan and then I play a new tune called “Hold on Maria” – which one guy tells me was his favourite of the night.

I sell a number of CDs, but have to run – I’m playing in Regina the next day and it’s enough of a drive that I’m crashing at my Dad’s again. I say goodbye to Jo-Anne, Mary, and the statues and then hit the road.

My GPS takes me the wrong way – I don’t care what it says – driving on a dirt road for an hour is the WRONG way. But like Cochrane, I eventually get there, load in the bare minimum and quietly crash.

… but before I take off into Saskatchewan away from the Home Routes concert series…

SPECIAL THANKS to all of my amazing hosts, to Tim, Mitch & Ava at Home Routes, who set up this house concert tour – and to everyone who came out to the shows. Whether you’d been to many before or it was your first time, please keep coming out to them and tell others – they’re pretty magical little shows and I’m looking forward to playing more of them in the future. If you’re interested in hosting a show like the ones that you read about here, check out www.homeroutes.ca.