I’m writing this from home. I’ve cleaned house for hours this morning, but there are miles to go before it shows. Would I rather be on tour or cleaning the toilet? Ahhhh. Can’t say I’ve missed scrubbing the toilet or, perhaps worse, the floor around the toilet. But the bathroom was disgusting. Had to be done. Suddenly I feel like I’ve settled too low over the past 7 years. Granted, my children were babies. Now they’re not. And I’ve passed the test: I LOVED BEING ON TOUR. Granted, I get along with everyone in the band, I love the music, the tour is well-paid and well-managed, and the hotels are nicer than I could afford on my own.

Don’t get me wrong, my husband has done an amazing job single-handedly watching the boys. He cooks and does laundry like nobody’s business. For years I thought I’d hire house cleaners so I could concentrate on money-making rather than scrubbing, but I have that thing where I don’t want the boys to see other people cleaning their mess. As a result, they see ME cleaning their mess. What’s the difference?

It was great seeing the boys yesterday afternoon for the first time in three weeks. They looked wonderful. We were so glad to be reunited. I loved playing my piano for an hour again after so much time off. This morning I listened to the recording I made from the front of the house of the Downey (Los Angeles) concert. The good news is, stuff that I did that really bothered me during the show and made me feel off my game turned out to be imperceptible on the recording. The bad news is, the house sound was quite muddy. But I didn’t want a board mix.

I saw my uncle and two of his friends at the show. My friend, the amazing singer Rebekah Del Rio, also came, and gave me great feedback after the show. After socializing with my uncle’s posse, at 12:30 I took a cab over to the same dance club we’d gone to the previous night and met up with some of the guys. Turns out Sunday is their salsa night and the dancers were on fire.

We got up at 7:30 am on Monday and were back in the Bay Area by about 2:30. On the way up, Willy Torres gave me an amazing lesson in salsa pregones.

I felt bad, however, that as we approached MacArthur BART station via West Oakland, Willy was getting an awful view of Oakland. “Looks just like Philly,” he said, not impressed. “Welcome to Gary, Indiana!” everyone yelled. Seeing Oakland as ugly through someone else’s eyes made me sad, and I have to say that I’m still feeling that way. I wanted to come back and be wowed by my gorgeous home and garden and city, but honestly I just want to be on the road again. We have a gig tomorrow night in Livermore, and then we leave either Thursday or Friday for two gigs in Oregon, followed by our final gig in Folsom.

I’ve slept well, finished my Ken Follett book (excellent) that I picked up in Lancaster, CA, practiced piano and petted the dogs. I don’t know if I have enough time to run, unfortunately. I think that’s what I need. A long run.