Sunday at noon I received a phone call prompting me to make a spontaneous trip to attend the final evening of the Alberta Society of Fiddlers annual winter camp. I was once-upon-a-time on the board of directors of the ASF, and I used to teach at that camp, after some years of attending as a student-participant. However, my fateful “Sorry Mom…” video changed all that, as they turfed me out rather unceremoniously (see article). Even though I never discussed politics at those fiddle camps, my presence as a fiddle instructor and as a regional director was not desired anymore. The phone call was from one of my guardian angels, a regular camp participant and she was calling me from there.
My initial response was to decline, it was so unexpected and far away (three-and-a-half hour drive one-way). Well after a short walk outside to think on it, I ran back home and packed my fiddle and my bag and jumped in the car. It was very important for me to show my face there, happy, unbowed and proud, and I am indeed so glad I went. I immediately received some very warm and genuine hugs. There were some other mixed reactions as well, but none were hostile. Discomfort from a few yes perhaps, maybe even bewilderment or trepidation, but mostly relief to see me back, safe and sound.
There was the student concert (5 of my former private students were there, in addition to the camp regulars and my former camp students), followed by the dance (we can fiddle or dance, or switch from one to the other to suit our mood). So much fun! My drive home was punctuated with two frighteningly close calls with large wildlife on the road, moose and elk, but my guardian angels were with me all the way.