October 23rd, 2006.

I’m riding down the Pennsylvania interstates in a state of euphoria. Snow is swirling past us, and they’re expecting a couple of inches over night. We’re definitely stopping off in California for the night now, neither of us want to cross the mountains in the snow in the dark. Done it. Don’t need to do it again without cataclysmic heart palpatitions driving me forward.

Autumn struck Ohio with a vengeance. The world matches my boots! Heather, Sara and I walked down to Lake Eerie near Sara’s parents’ house. We encountered an over-excited and frighteningly wriggly puppy and more colour than you can shake a hollow stick at (which Sara found as well, and blew through… and got dirt on her lips. Yuck.)

While playing at the Phoenix Cafe in Lakewood, Ohio, don’t look up! That spider plant that was trying to get intimate with me all night was merely the feely tentacular extensions of the evil Face of the Ceiling! Heather was in rare form tonight, explaining how when the next Great Flood comes (and it was coming soon, I don’t quite remember how we determined this though) that you’d want to build arks, or in the cast of Dublin’s owner, a small row-boat with plenty of bailing buckets. For the Love-foam.

The autumn colours simply blaze against grey skies, the Foo Fighters join in the chorus of the engine and we push South. The last 24 hours have just been amazing – last night we played an open mic at Cafe Europa in Willoughby, OH and simply fell in Love with the host, a great performer who goes by the name “Xela” who caught us by surprise with his warmth, talent, charm. This was the most family-friendly open mic I’ve ever been to as well, with a couple of kids running around and performers who manage to remain respectful without seeming to restrain themselves.

One of the other regulars was trying out a homemade wine on us, and as we passed around his two-year old vintage we swapped tales and songs and germs (Xela says “Ah! Road germs! They only make me stronger!!”) I’m consistantly amazed by Xela’s powerful but gentle persona – especially in someone I perceive as pretty young, he’s smart, well-travelled, and his voice is like a male Billy Holiday with sultry sweeps of Jeff Buckley and maybe a little of Ben Harper’s sweet grit. Good jazz chords and smart lyrics and an easy-going manner with the kids who have taken it upon themselves to assault him with invisible energy swords as he performs. (Fortunately, he had the foresight to erect a forcefield, or he could have lost some important parts).

We performed well, made friends, played to Sara and her sister and sold CDs, feeling like we were doing things right. We drove home in the cold and ate well and watched “White Christmas” curled up under blankets as the Ohio freeze gripped the gardens outside.

The nuclear power plant near Mentor on Lake Eerie. Sorry kids, but I’m pretty sure this has got to be our future source of electricity. If we’re careful with them, they’re clean, and we wouldn’t have such crazy nasty wastes if we just built them to different specs… but we’re not supposed to do THAT in the US! That’d be just TOO innovative.

Just so many amazing leaves on the ground.

On Lake Eerie we watched as a storm came in, darkening the skies and driving the waves and wind up the rocks. Watching the wind whip the trees around and shove us up and down the beach, spitting spray and sand at us – I’m so grateful for the coat I got talked into buying in Illinois. It was fucking FREEZING.

And we woke to snow, coming down thick – the wicked tempers of Lake Eerie swept grey down over us and blanketed us with close skies vibrating against the carpets of wet leaves. The storm that had brewed up yesterday had returned with big flakes and I got to break out our snow scraper for the first snow fall of the season.