Concert! Sea Shanties

61°f/16°C, cloudy in the morning, rain or rain showers all day.

Heave ho!

The Wellermen: Sebastian, Bobby, Luke, and Sam. John was missing at the time of my photo.

We were on the road most of yesterday, traveling across the state to visit our oldest son, his wife and daughter, and to attend a concert by a group I honestly never thought I would see in person: The Wellermen, a sea shanty singing group with members from the US and the UK, with one member half-Finnish and half Brit. 

I stumbled on this group on Facebook Reels last winter. I had been listening to the Fisherman's Friends, another shanty group from Cornwall and a favorite of mine. I enjoyed The Wellermen too, but assumed they were in the UK, and that odds of ever hearing them in person were pretty remote. So imagine my shock when I found that they were performing in tiny Thomas, WV, at the Purple Fiddle, a funky, fun small restaurant and performance space in West Virginia's coolest little mountain town (which is also not so easy to get to, although a road that has been under construction for about 15 years will bring the town uncomfortably easy to access from the DC area).

My burger...wasn't feeling adventurous, but this burger was beyond perfect. I rarely eat beef, or burgers, but I enjoyed this one.

My son ordered these rice cakes appetizer which were wrapped in seaweed and had a spicy sauce. I tasted them and thought them pretty good. 

The remains of those amazing fries. Not at all greasy and unlike any fries I have ever had.

We had a great dinner at a quirky restaurant that serves Asian fusion dishes along with good ol' burgers. Their curly fries are to die for, an odd but astounding combination of potatoes with a creamy cheese, nut, and dried fruit topping. I could have been happy with just those for my meal!

The concert was standing room only, and we arrived just in time to nab the last 4 chairs, thank goodness. I would guess there were about 100 people in attendance. My daughter-in-law stayed home to prepare for her Sunday services--she is a minister at a church near their home (and also a pharmacist, part-time), so it was just my son, granddaughter,  Larry and me.

Y'all, I am here to tell you, that was one great concert. The group's harmonies are shiver-inspiring, especially the amazing bass voices of Bobby Baxter and Luke Taylor. John, the other bass, had to leave the second half of the show with a stomach issue (too much gas station food, they said!), but the group carried on. 

Sebastian is singing here.

The tenor voices of Sam and Sebastian,  both of whose last names I have forgotten, were simply perfect. There were oppo8for audience singalong too, on numbers such as Drunken Sailor, Wellerman,  and 16 Tons. The songs weren't all shanties-- there were American and original songs added to the mix.

Spanish Ladies 

I took several videos, which I had to edit to meet YouTube copyright rules, but they give a good sense of the evening. The audience was wildly appreciative, and gave a couple of standing ovations. It was just that good.

You can hear more of their singing on their website.

I admit, I was a total fangirl, waiting outside in hopes of a photo, which the guys were happy to do. They were surprised that I had come so far to hear them, but then they don't know how limited such opportunities are in West Virginia. 

With Luke and Sam. Luke's voice is quite something in one so young, such a deep bass. Sam is a classic British tenor, beautiful range.

Sebastian, Luke, me, Bobby and Sam. Bad lighting but oh well, it was nearly midnight. I am certainly not as thin as this photo makes me look!

Today we made the long drive home, over the mountains and through the rain. Our dogs were happy to see us, and we were glad to be home, but even happier, I think, that we had made the journey. It was worth every mile. (And yes, I came home with a CD, old-school granny that I am. I just like to own my media.)

The group has a few more US gigs before flying over to Europe, where they have performances in quite a few cities. Go see them if you get the chance--you won't be disappointed!

Back to our regularly scheduled routine tomorrow, darn it.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

The Washboard Festival

A friend posted it on Facebook: The Logan (OH) Washboard Festival was happening this weekend.

A washboard festival? Really? Yes, really. Logan, Ohio is the home of the last washboard manufacturer in the US, the Columbus Washboard Company. I was surprised to learn that not only are washboards still being made, they're being made just an hour or so from my home.

Unfortunately we had a priority yesterday that could not be ignored: during the heavy rains Thursday our roof sprung a big leak. So that was on top of the to-do list. Larry started work on it Friday, finding the source of the trouble and getting together materials. Saturday was repair day. I wanted to leave bright and early for the festival but that wasn't to be: the roof had to come first. I picked berries--red and black raspberries, strawberries, cherries and currants--and made my favorite Cherry Berry jam while I waited for him to finish.

We did not leave until four in the afternoon. That meant we missed the tour of the washboard factory and the historic Bowen house, but we arrived in time to see part of the parade, wander the streets and listen to some great music. We knew not one soul there, but that didn't matter; the atmosphere was friendly and welcoming and everyone seemed to be relaxed and enjoying themselves. For children, there were free rides at the carnival. Free! Whoever heard of such a thing? There was a beer garden for adults, many vendors selling crafts and good food. We sampled the churned ice cream. Delicious.

The best part of the evening was the music. Robin Lacy and his band DeZydeco were a high-energy start to the evening, singing old favorites with a zydeco beat and tossing beads into the crowd. The lady beside me, easily 10 or 15 years older than me, rocked right along with them, arms in the air and singing along. She caught some beads too.

Washboard musicians were everywhere, Here, musicians line up to get on stage after DeZydeco for a group act with the next band.

The Buffalo Ridge Jazz Band followed with some good riverboat and ragtime sounds--and onstage with them for the last part of their show was the group of washboard players of all types and descriptions. Some had bells on their washboards, some had coffee cans, one had a hubcap--anything that could add a rhythmic note to the music.

My favorite of the washboard players was Newman Taylor Baker (known as NTB), who came to the festival from Brooklyn, New York. It was difficult to see him playing due to the arrangement of the stage, but here's the best photo I could get.

Later I asked NTB how he found this festival , and he said he'd been buying his washboards (note that plural) from the Columbus Washboard Company and heard about it through them. His style was unlike anything I'd ever seen, although he assured me that people in the south have been doing it for years: playing with 12-gauge shotgun shells on their fingers instead of the traditional thimbles. He played seated, with the washboard on his lap like a dulcimer, and he added a cymbal and other sounds to his playing. You can see and hear his playing on this Youtube clip. He also plays with a group called the Ebony Hillbillies. You can read more about NTB on his blog NTB/Singing Drums.

I hope we see him again at next year's festival, if not before--and perhaps as a featured performer. He'd certainly be a fine addition to their lineup.

In the course of conversation with NTB I mentioned that I was a storyteller and he asked if I happened to know a lady named Regina who was a friend of his in New York. Such a small world--I did know Regina, having met her at the Sharing the Fire storytelling conference  in Albany last year, and we've been Facebook friends since that time. Connections, they're everywhere.

The last band we heard was the Juggernaut Jug Band, from Louisville, KY. I had heard this group before when they came to Kanawha county as part of a summer reading program some years ago. Imagine someone who cam play a harmonica, washboard, and five or six other instruments all at the same time! And he sounded right good on the nose flute too. This group is as fun to watch as they are to hear; the pre-song discussion on this video (including a bit about the Kama Sutra, no less, and a little nose flute) is a good example of their eclectic style.

So next year? Oh yeah, this festival is on our calendar already. I even have a washboard that I used to mess around with. It was actually the one I used in our pre-electricity days. I painted it up and started learning to play it; then one of the legs broke. My father fixed it for me but I've never played it since. Maybe it's time to get it out again.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Jingling, and Wondering, All the Way

He was rebellious young man who defied his father, became a sailor , mined gold...and ended up finding fame as the composer of one of our most loved Christmas songs.

 

Born in 1822 in Medford, Massachusetts to a minister and his wife, James Pierpoint ran away from home at 14. His parents were abolitionists but he did not share their views. He wandered the world, working as a sailor on the Pacific Ocean and mining gold in California before eventually returning to Medford, marrying and becoming a father. When his wife passed away in 1853 he left New England and moved to Savannah, Georgia where he spent the remainder of his life. He served in the Confederate Army and is buried in Savannah, his adopted home.

So when did he write his song about sleigh bells, horses and snow? Scholars have never been able to pinpoint the exact date. Savannah claims the song was written there as a nostalgic remembrance of his youth, and certainly it was copyrighted in 1857 while Pierpoint was living in Savannah. But other records point to an earlier date and say that Pierpoint played the song in the 1840’s for a church gathering in Medford. Both Medford and Savannah have erected signs claiming the song was written in their town. To me, it seems odd that Pierpoint would have written a song about snow and sleighbells while living in the sunny south which he had come to love.

Pierpoint himself claimed he wrote the song for a Thanksgiving service, not for Christmas. According to the story, his father asked him to compose something to be used for the service on Thanksgiving Day. No inspiration struck until Pierpoint looked out the window and saw young people playing in the snow. Fact or fiction? Who knows? It’s just one more part of the mystery of the origins of “dashing all the way."

Do you know all the verses? Here they are:

Dashing through the snow
In a one horse open sleigh
O'er the fields we go
Laughing all the way
Bells on bob tails ring
Making spirits bright
What fun it is to laugh and sing
A sleighing song tonight

Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh

A day or two ago
I thought I'd take a ride
And soon Miss Fanny Bright
Was seated by my side
The horse was lean and lank
Misfortune seemed his lot
We got into a drifted bank
And then we got upsot

Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh yeah

Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh

 Not one word about Christmas, Jesus' birth, Santa, Christmas trees or any of the things we normally associate with the holiday. And yet, doesn't singing it get you in the spirit of the season? So thank you, Mr. Pierpoint, for the smiles and laughter your song has brought to so many generations.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Up on the Housetop: An Early School Memory and a History

This cheerful little carol is the first song I remember learning in school. My school was a new, small Catholic school, and we were taught by nuns in one large room of the Benedictine convent at Linton Hall, Virginia. I believe there were 7 children in my first-grade class and 14 in the kindergarten class. That was the whole school. The next year second grade was added, but there was no kindergarten, just first and second grades.

 

The room in which we had classes must have been used for a theater of sorts because there was a stage with dark red velvet curtains at the end of the room. Usually our backs were to this stage, but we used it for music class, and it was our performance space for our first ever Christmas program. Now that I think about it, isn't it funny that a secular tune like Up on the Housetop should have been included in the program? I remember that we also sang Jolly Old Saint Nicholas, but that may have been the second year.

 

Both of these little tunes are thought to have been composed by the same man, Benjamin Hanby. Hanby was born in Rushville, Ohio in 1833 and later moved to Westerville, Ohio. He was the son of a minister and joined his father’s activities with the underground railroad; their home was actually a stop on the railroad. While helping the runaway slaves who passed through their home Hanby composed My Darling Nellie Gray, which he said was based on a story told to him by one of the slaves.

 It is believed that he composed Up on the Housetop in the 1850’s or 1860’s and it is possible that it pre-dates Jingle Bells as the first secular American carol since Jingle Bells was copyrighted in 1857 (and Jingle Bells, you may have noticed, contains not one single Christmas reference-but that's another story). Some scholars believe that Hanby was inspired by the idea of the sleigh landing on the rooftop from The Night Before Christmas by Clement C. Moore, who was the first to suggest the rooftop landing and chimney approach to Santa’s visits in his poem published in 1832. Hanby’s song, however, was the first to focus on Santa Claus and was first titled “Santa Claus.”

Hanby may also have composed Jolly Old St. Nicholas, which is stylistically very close to Up on the Housetop. Authorship of this carol has never been established, however, as no original notes or manuscripts of the song have ever been found.

Mr. Hanby died in 1867 of tuberculosis; he was still a very young man yet he contributed at least two songs to the American tradition with Up on the Housetop and My Darling Nellie Gray. His home in Westerville,Ohio is preserved as a museum with many of the family’s original furnishings, and original manuscripts of Nellie Gray can be seen there.

Here are the lyrics to Up on the Housetop:

Up on the housetop reindeer pause,
Out jumps good old Santa Claus.
Down thru the chimney with lots of toys,
All for the little ones, Christmas joys.

Chorus
Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn’t go.
Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn’t go!
Up on the housetop, click, click, click.
Down thru the chimney with good Saint Nick.

First comes the stocking of little Nell;
Oh, dear Santa, fill it well;
Give her a dolly that laughs and cries,
One that will open and shut her eyes.

Chorus

Next comes the stocking of little Will
Oh, just see what a glorious fill
Here is a hammer, And lots of tacks
Also a ball, And a whip that cracks.

Chorus

This is a variation of the third verse:

Look in the stocking of little Bill;
Oh, just see that glorious fill!
Here is a hammer and lots of tacks,
a whistle and a ball and a set of jacks.

And just in case you don't remember this carol, here's a link to one version of it, sung by one of the most famous cowboy singers, Gene Autry.

 

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Daddy's Fiddle: A Guest Post

Today's post is a note I received from Sher Rushing. I wrote about her granddaughter Maelee last summer after hearing her play at the Big Stone Gap Celtic Festival. To hear a nine-year-old play with that kind of confidence was such a surprise, but this is no ordinary nine-year-old. Read on: 

 Howdy Susanna!

We, my husband John Rushing and I, are FB friends with you! John has actually got to meet you!; I've not yet had that privilege!

Anyway, you had included a short write up about "a young fiddler" (our granddaughter, Maelee), in one of your articles about Big Stone Gap, VA several months ago, along with a great pic! Thank you so very much for that!! We will treasure it always!

I wanted to send you a story I wrote about my dad and his fiddle...it's self-explanatory. 

Sher

  

Daddy's Fiddle

One day in the early 1970's, while dad was still able to work, a co-worker, Bill Leinenweaver, came in to Kroger with an old beat up fiddle he'd found while cleaning out his grandfather's attic. No strings, no bridge, and the case it was in was literally beat to pieces. Daddy didn't play the fiddle, nor any other musical instrument, but he sure did love bluegrass and old-time music! He thought the fiddle was "purty", and asked Bill what he was gonna do with it. 

Bill said, "Well, Rob, I don't need it, thought I might sell it, that's why I brought it in". 

Daddy replied "Well, Bill, whatcha askin' for it?" and Bill replied, "I figured ten dollars would be a fair enough price". 

Daddy dug his wallet out, had a five and two ones; checked his pockets for change, and came up with fifty cents. 

"Bill, I got seven fifty here; can I pay you the rest later?" And Bill said "Sold!".

A few days later, daddy took the fiddle to Treble Clef on Main Street in Batesville, Arkansas. Lou DeSio ran that shop, and still does as far as I know. Anyway, he had Lou put on a bridge, restring it, and tune it up. He also bought a hard shell case for it, and got a bow and some rosin: just in case anyone ever wanted to play it.

No one in our family ever did take an interest at the time, although a couple of great local fiddler's that picked at our house on a couple of occasions did: Tim Crouch and Scotty Branscum. They said it was a fine fiddle, and it was truly amazing the sounds they each got out of it! I remember daddy being so proud that his fiddle was being played, and he even offered to let them take it and play it! Both refused, afraid "someone might steal it", or "something might happen to it". I think they were both being very polite, although they really did seem to like the way it sounded.

Daddy left us in 1997. He never did hear that fiddle being played by any family member. He did leave it in my care, just in case "you or one of the grandkids decide you want to play". I've kept it all these years.

This past Saturday night, about 38 years after he bought it, daddy's fiddle was played on stage. It sounded wonderful! It had a mic and amp system! It had my husband backing up the fiddler playing it! It had a crowd to listen, along with judges! It had a 9 year old fiddler producing amazing sounds from it! And that 9 year old fiddler was his great-granddaughter, Jentry Maelee Taylor!

And at the 2012 East Tennessee Young Musician's Bluegrass Contest in Rogersville, TN, Maelee took first place in the Junior Fiddle Division {ages 8-12} contest...with the $7.50 fiddle.

We all could feel daddy's smiles from Heaven!

27 February, 2012

That's the story Sher Rushing sent me, and one I am so happy to share with all of you. Thank you, Sher!

I think we've just heard the beginnings of this young fiddler's journey. Congratulations, Maelee, and may you continue to find new songs on your grandpa's fiddle.

Battlefield Band

Saturday night's concert was one of the best I've been to in quite a while. The Battlefield Band from Scotland was in Charleston as part of the Footmad concert series. I almost missed it--the tickets were in my purse and I was thinking the concert was a week away. Fortunately someone sent a reminder on Facebook just in time. How sad I would have been to have missed this opportunity.

The band has been on tour in the US, starting in Hawaii and moving across the country. I can imagine they had some weather tales to tell, since they've apparently been across the Midwest during the recent blizzards. But they made no mention of it, just jumped right in and started playing. And boy can they play.

The members all live in Scotland now, although one (Mike Katz) was originally from Los Angeles. He went to Edinburgh for college and never left. Mike's musical abilities are far-ranging, from composition to arrangement to playing bagpipes, flute, and bouzouki.

Then there is Alasdair White from the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides, whose fiddle playing is world-renowned. Even at 13, he was considered a maestro by those in the industry. Add in his expressive face and crazy humor, and his rhythm-keeping right foot that never seemed to stop, and he's quite a performer.

The second fiddler, by no means playing second fiddle to Alasdair, however, is Ewen Henderson. Honestly, how do people so young learn to play so well? Ewen is not 30 years old, plays fiddle, piano, bagpipes and flute (or maybe it's a tin whistle, can't remember)--and sings! His fiddling is quite honestly breathtaking, and he puts his whole body into the playing.

The group is rounded out by Sean O'Donnell, who was born in Northern Ireland. His guitar and vocals, and his quirky sense of humor meshed well with the rest of the group.

If the Battlefield Band ever comes your way, do try to see and hear them. I hope they come back to West Virginia soon. Next week would be fine with me! To get a taste of what an evening with them is like, check out this YouTube video. Be sure to watch all the way through, because it just gets better and better. As does this band.

And to get a taste of the two fiddlers, watch them duel it out on this video. Superb!

Echo Songs

While browsing in some books this evening, I came across a mention of "echo songs." I knew about call-and-response songs and songs with a chorus for participation, but I'd never heard the term echo songs before. I expect all of us have heard or sung one at some time, and I've even used a few in performances. But I never heard them called echo songs.

What is an echo song? It's a song where the audience repeats each line after the singer. For example, here is Bill Grogan's Goat:

There was a man
There was a man
Now please take note
Now please take note
There was a man
There was a man
Who had a goat
Who had a goat

He loved that goat
He loved that goat
Indeed he did
Indeed he did
He loved that goat
He loved that goat
Just like a kid
Just like a kid

One day that goat
One day that goat
Felt frisk and fine
Felt frisk and fine
Ate three red shirts
Ate three red shirts
Right off the line
Right off the line

The man, he grabbed
The man, he grabbed
Him by the back
Him by the back
And tied him to
And tied him to
A railroad track
A railroad track

Now, when that train
Now, when that train
Hove into sight
Hove into sight
That goat grew pale
That goat grew pale
And green with fright
And green with fright

He heaved a sigh
He heaved a sigh
As if in pain
As if in pain
Coughed up those shirts
Coughed up those shirts
And flagged the train!
And flagged the train!

Most of the echo songs I've found have been silly children's songs like this one--fun to sing and share. Princess Pat and Bear in Tennis Shoes are other examples of echo songs.

Echo songs are excellent for getting audiences of all ages to sing. They don't have to worry about knowing the words and most of the melodies are simple and easy to follow.

There are even books of echo songs, like this one on Amazon.

I have used the echo technique to teach a song or refrain to an audience. For example, when I sing the Swapping Song, the refrain is sung quickly: "with a whim-wham-whaddle, with-a-jack straw-straddle, and johnny's-got-his-fiddle and he's-gone-on-home." It's easy for the audience to sing each part of the refrain after me until I can see they have it; then we sing it together. You can find lyrics to the Swapping Song on Mudcat.

So what's the difference between this method and call-and-response? In call-and-response the audience is often calling back something different to the singer, as in Did you Feed My Cow?:

Did you feed my cow? (Yes, Ma-am)
Could you tell me how? (Yes, Ma-am)
What did you feed her? (Corn and Hay)
What did you feed her? (Corn and Hay)

Did you milk her good? (Yes, Ma-am)
Now did you milk her like you should? (Yes, Ma-am)
How did you milk her? (Squish, Squish, Squish)
How did you milk her? (Squish, Squish, Squish)

For a classic version of this song,you can go here to buy a download of the incomparable Ella Jenkins performing it. Call-and Response is a lot of fun to sing with audiences although they usually need to be taught their "part" in advance.

There are many websites with more songs like those I've mentioned. Three of the best I've found are:

Kididdles is one of the best online with hundreds of songs and lyrics.

Another good site is Bussongs, which claims to have the largest collection of children's music online.

The National Institute of Environmental Health maintains a healthy collection of children's music, complete with midi files so you can hear the melody.

The Music of Coal: Music from the Mountain's Soul

It's a black soul these mountains have, and that soul is coal. For years men and women have ventured beneath the hills, feeling the heartbeat of the mountains as they mine the coal that feeds their families.

The Lonseome Pine Office on Youth has put together one of the most amazing, heartrending collections of music I have ever had the privilege to hear: "Music of Coal: Mining songs from the Appalachian Coalfields." From the clear, childlike beauty of Molly Slemp singing "West Virginia Mine Disaster" to the frightening "Dirty Black Coal" sung by Kenneth Davis, I was spellbound.

There is no mining where I live. The coal, they say, is too deep and too thin to be worth mining. My connection to the industry that both makes and breaks West Virginia is through my husband, son of a coal miner and raised in the coal camps of southern Kanawha County, WV. It is so hard for me to envision the life of miner--the days spent crawling through tunnels that might be no more than 30 inches high, never trusting the roof above him, always seeking that perfect place to cut coal. I look at old photos and strain to imagine what it must be like to be in those mines, but always my imagination fails.

But these songs, ah, they tell the story as no photo can. I will listen again and again and again, and I will be astounded each time with the passion and pain in the music of coal.

And added to the music is the book that explains the origin of each song in the 2-CD collection, and all for only $35.00. The set is a fundraising project for the Lonesome Pine Office on Youth.

To purchase a set you can visit their website, call them at 276-523-5064, or write to LPOY, 219 Wood Avenue E, PO Box 568, Big Stone Gap, VA 24219.

I heard about the collection on West Virginia Public Radio. The interview with Jack Wright , producer of the project, was fascinating and sent me straight to the computer to order my collection. Anyone with an interest in coal mining and mountain music will find the collection as magnificent as I do.

Blackbirds and Thrushes: Celtic Music from West Virginia

Band members: step dancer Hanna Thurman, Odie and Andrea Parkins, Wendell and Linda Dobbs, and Mike Newman

I'm enjoying a new listening pleasure: the Celtic music of Blackbirds and Thrushes, a West Virginia group based in Huntington. Traditional Irish music joined with the lilting voices of Andrea Parkins and Linda Dobbs, the two CDs (New Heights and Calamity Nights) are immediately joining my list of favorites.

I first heard Andrea sing at a concert in Ripley at the Alpine Theatre. I'd met her as a member of the writing group, but her singing was a surprise to me. I was enthralled by the beauty, range and intensity of her voice, accompanied by the skilled playing of her husband Odie on the guitar and fiddle. The CDs capture that soaring voice along with fine accompaniment and instrumentals by band members Odie Parkins, Wendell Dobbs and Mike Newman, and the excellent vocals and accordion music of Linda Dobbs.

It's surprising that this group is not better known, but perhaps that's their choice. Sometimes a thing is enjoyed most when it's not "work." I don't think any of these folks are working when they perform on these CDs--their pleasure and joy in the music is apparent on every track.

No distributor is listed on the CDs, but for more information and bookings, contacts are listed as wendobbs@aol.com (304-529-7361) and newman1@zoomnet .

On Saturdays We Play!

We've made a pact--we can play on Saturday if we work on Sunday.

Living in the backcountry means there is a lot of work to be done just to maintain a place. Grass, lots of it, to cut. Weeds to pull and cut. Gardens to plow, dig, plant. New gardens to make. Stonework to repair, a new stone-walled garden to build. Deck rail to build. Porch to clean up and paint. Porch furniture ditto. Pruning, transplanting, mulching, fertilizing.
Chicken house to clean out. Get pigs this year? No time. Brushhogging to do. Brush to cut and burn. Get baby chicks? Maybe.

And that's just the beginning of the list. Because all this work also requires trips to hardware and feed stores, lumber yards and greenhouses. A trip to town means an hour on the road, plus time to shop. So trips are consolidated, many errands done in one trip.

But on Saturdays, if I'm not storytelling, we play. We go to the Downtowner for breakfast, visit Rachel to see what new in her antique shop, get good coffee at Court Street Station, talk to friends. If there's an auction we go to that. If we feel like driving, we go to wherever we feel like going.

This past Saturday was about as nice as a day can get. We went in early to mail a package to son Tommy in Germany, then drove out and ordered a new carport-garage building. After that, it was back to town to visit the consignment shop (and pick up $22.50--yay!) to see if there were any work jeans there that fit Larry. He scored two pairs--no sense buying new jeans for a bricklayer.

Then it was on to Court Street to see Rachel and get coffee, and then to an auction just outside of town. It was one of the best I've been to, but I was good--my house is full, and if I buy anything something else has to go. So I bought only a pretty little green enamel teapot, a box of embroidered and crocheted items, a quilting hoop and stand for a friend, and 6 hand-woven rugs.

We had to leave early to meet Donna Wilson, my partner in planning the storytelling series for this summer called Stories by the River. We got a grant from ORBI for this project, and Donna is designing posters, etc. She and our friend Suzy joined us for dinner at the Mexican restaurant, and then we all went to the poetry reading.

This was my second reading this week. Who would think it could be fun to read poetry aloud? What makes it great is being able to share why and how a poem was written. I had a great time and even Larry enjoyed it, to his immense surprise.

We came home to build a fire in the fireplace, drink a glass of wine, and watch the DVD about Junior Holstein, my husband's cousin who is an old-time fiddler. The DVD tells it just how it is, moonshine and devils in the chimney and all. We spent an evening with Junior a year and a half ago, singing and talking about old songs. He's quite a guy, with his own demons and troubles, but one of the last of the old mountain fiddlers.

A great day--and on Sunday, we paid for it by working hours in the gardens and yard. But it was worth every minute.

Weekends--what a whirl!

They go by fast, and suddenly it's Monday and we're heading back to work, wondering what hit us. The days are full, varied and intense, and I don't think we'd have it any other way.

Take last weekend (not this one just past, but the one before). It started on Friday night--I signed up for a free weekend writing seminar offered by the West Virginia State Archives and the WV Library Commission. Some of West Virginia's best writers were workshop leaders--Terry Lowry, author of West Virginia Civil War titles; Geoff Fuller, a freelance writer who is working on a true crime story of the WVU Co-Ed murders; Diane Gillam Fisher, a poet whose work Kettle Bottom is on the poetry best-seller list (who knew there was such a thing!); Denise Giardina, whose fiction titles Storming Heaven and others have won numerous awards and national recognition; and Kate Long, songwriter, singer and writer extraordinaire. She was joined by Pete Kosky who writes and sings historical ballads.

So Friday night I began an immersion into writing history. I returned for a second sunking on Saturday; the workshop by Diane Fisher and the songwriting session with Kate and Pete were moving and somehow oddly disturbing--I felt like they were telling me to reach deeper, tell more, feel more. The Vietnam song (McNamara's Tear) by Kate was beautiful, and yet for this wife of a Vietnam vet, depressing and incredibly sad.

I had to leave before the workshops were over to prepare for an evening performance at the Evergreen Arts and Humanities Series Storytelling Festival in Marietta, OH, at Washington State College. Before we drove to Marietta, we stopped by Derek's house to see how the big window replacement project was going. Despite the cold, rainy weather, sons Derek and Aaron were hard at work, and had most of the windows already in while Jaime rode herd on her two little ones and kept the food organized.

The Marietta performance was excellent--not mine, but the whole event. I felt at home there sonce I'd performed for the series last year. My stories and songs went very well, and I really enjoyed Michael Burnham's telling of the Jack tale Soldier Jack.

We got home around midnight, and were up and out early to fix breakfast at Derek's. Then back home with Jaime and the little ones to burn CDs of old family photos, clean house and put away storytelling stuff and cook dinner for the guys who came over later. When everyone left, I headed to my office to finish up our --ugh-- income taxes.

And that was the weekend--full of family, fun, stories and work.

Music from the Mountains

I love Friday night radio. Joe Dobbs' show, Music from the Mountains, showcases some of the best talent in the region along with visiting musicians passing through. His style is pure front-porch, friendly and casual, and focused on the music. Who needs to go out on a snowy April night when music this good is on the radio?