Iowa is flat. But I knew this going into it. It’s a sunny, hot day and as we first drove out of Dubuque this afternoon, the clouds were laying low and fluffy over us. Even though I wouldn’t live this far away from a major city, I do like the feeling that the clouds are something you can reach up and touch. They feel that close.

Last night we played at Isabella’s which is a cool, hipster spot in the basement of a semi-restored Victorian in Dubuque. When we first arrived, we met Paula and Michael, members of the Writer’s Guild in the area and Paula had lived in the house above for a short time. I took a tour and she refused to go to the 2nd floor of the house, claiming that the spirit of the 2 sisters who had lived there and died there in the last century were still lingering. I felt creeped out by association and made sure to make my tour quick. Supposedly, the Ryan sisters who lived there would take cab (by horse and buggy) rides to Chicago (3 hours away) to shop. Their driver would be left in charge of their parrot while they bought things in the city.

The crowd was small, but attentive and we sold cds, made tips and got paid. Cole, our caretaker for the evening, fed us both dinner last night and breakfast today and put us up in the massive Victorian that he is renting across the street. The house he lives in is amazing, but needs an overwhelming amount of work. Each of the maybe 15 rooms feels light and huge and airy, but they are all in need of serious work. A mammoth task that hopefully someone will undertake. The house deserves to be preserved. They rent it for a cheap—I can imagine such a rental in Baltimore would be at least 4 times what they are paying. This morning we rode we rode the Fenelon Place Elevator in Dubuque. For a mere $2/person we could make the one-minute-forty-five seconds ride up to the top of the hill where you can take in the view of downtown Dubuque and the mighty Mississippi. It was a short jaunt, but a fun touristy thing to do in the town. Cole also told me that Dubuque was almost exclusively Catholic. For some reason, I was surprised. It seemed to me like Iowa would be more Southern Baptist. Why do I have these ideas? Where do they come from? It’s weird.

Dubuque has an old history of lead mining and lots of old money that built large houses. The people who lived in these mansions have left and Dubuque is in that area of transition. There is some gentrification, but also, the suburbs are developing and as we drove West, we passed Everywhere America, rife with Targets and chain stores. We could have been anywhere. The homogeny depresses me. I like distinctive places. When we were walking around, I saw this motorcycle that made me so sad: it had weeds growing through the spokes of the wheel.

I didn’t sleep all that well. Couldn’t turn off my brain and was thinking about the drive today to Britt and Clear Lake. As usual, we’re running a bit behind my self imposed schedule and I’m hoping that we at least make it to see the Hobo Museum this evening. I don’t really know when it closes and I’ll be disappointed if we miss that. Also, they’ve started the Hobo festivities, which is planned for the weekend and I didn’t intend to stay too long because I’m just an observer of the culture, not necessarily a participant.

Iowa continues and continues and continues. Flatness and corn. But there are windfarms. And this I like a lot.

Eli flies back home tomorrow and I’m going to miss him. He has been a great companion on this trip. Although I know the shows next week will be fine, but it’s been such a relief and joy to have him performing my songs with me. We have plans to continue this as soon as I get back.