Sotu 433 "it's all relative!"

And, with that, Good Morning & etc. from deepest France! Big thanks to Brian, Joo and Jon and Lynda, who brought songs "overnight". I am just off to listen and update the Playlist. Please keep the songs coming today!
 
Hi Val, I hope all is well there! Thanks for hosting this week! Glad to see there is lot's of activity going on for your week. I hope I can get caught up on some listening over the next day or so here. This collaboration is another one w/ Jon and Willie. The three of us have found a bit of a grove where we can put these together pretty fast. This is one of my favorite Guy Clark songs; Magnolia Wind ~

 
thank you for this week Val
on Christmas Day 2015 my mum was critically ill in hospital
i wrote this during those days when i thought i was going to lose her
recorded today w/ some music



WORDS LIKE BLOOD

Words, like blood,
flow unsteadily as we age.
Corridors that seemed
wide as the horizon in childhood time
darken, narrow, begin to fade
in a womb-like, soupy sky.

We begin to remember
the things we said
those we didn't,
what we left behind,
and everything and nothing hold the same meaning.

Nights grow shorter.
We wake sometime in the day
next to a window
in a room
with lime green and biege walls

and a single, framed watercolour
before us:
you in your bed
dressed in a white robe.
Me in a chair by your side.

We gaze out from the shore
to vanishing point
of an altered horizon
on some nameless day in forever.

A small island in the bay
surrounded by a calm, iridescent, emerald sea
tells the story we no longer can...

Water laps gently
at its craggy outline;
a reassuring, steady pulse,

reminding me where
my boundaries lay,
where the dangers are,

and one naked trunk protrudes
from an escarpment. It is I,

leaning into you, longing to feel
your warm, milk-sweet blood

envelop me again.
 
I was a bit surprised that this one by Madness hadn't appeared yet, and then I found out what a pig it is to play.



A couple more photos - me & my brother, in the garden behind my grandparents' sweet shop, and my mother & father in front of it, after they took it over.

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And, as a matter of general interest, in that I am still facing a bit of a challenge with Internet availability in the house until Friday, when it renews for the coming month, this is where I have to go to get a signal on the smartphone; up to the top of the hill (5 minutes in the car and probably 15 minutes to walk - I've been using the car!)

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This is a bit of a long one now so my apologies in advance but as soon as the idea came into my head i had to give it a go. It's about a sister who's not a very naughty boy.

The guitar tab called for drop D tuning which isn't advisable on a tenor uke so I've gone for what I've dubbed 'Drop F'. FCFA#.



Had a lot on my plate this week as Nathan has gone back to school and work is starting to pick up but hopefully I'll have a couple more for you soon!
 
Bedtime here in France. Thanks so much to Kev, Jon & Willie, Jon on his own, Steve, Brian and Ryan for today's great contributions. I will leave you with this thought on relativity from Albert himself ...

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You see yourself as a child and it brings you to tears.


Rebirth – The Dogwood flower is a symbol of rebirth and resurrection.
This symbolic meaning was derived from the association of this flower
to Jesus Christ and resurrection of Jesus Christ. ...
Purity – The Dogwood flower is also a symbol of purity, mainly because
this flower is linked to ChristianityThis song was used in This is England 88 and also Normal people.
Listen here to Fionn Regan sing his song,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAWW-Jsnr94
 
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And, as a matter of general interest, in that I am still facing a bit of a challenge with Internet availability in the house until Friday, when it renews for the coming month, this is where I have to go to get a signal on the smartphone; up to the top of the hill (5 minutes in the car and probably 15 minutes to walk - I've been using the car!)

View attachment 127527

Stunning view, though.
 
Well, here following such deep and strongly delivered instant classics of uke playing, I come along with this. Over-produced and grating, it's about family and it's called Banjo Odyssey.

If you think about this story, the parralels to Homer's character are profound.

 
And Good Morning & etc. fellow Seasonistas! Thanks so much to Rob, Marc, Joko and Lynda, whose songs came in "overnight". Please keep the songs coming today ... we need more relatives and more Einstein! And more photos ... where are all your relations? X
 
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Oh ... and a photo! This is me in the garden with my Dad at about two, clutching my favourite teddy, from which I could not be parted ... until, that is, we moved when I was four and he disappeared, never to be seen again. (I have no idea how I overcame this trauma ... I think I have "blanked" it!)

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Staying in Manchester again, this is the first Oasis song I've done I think, and it's one of my favourites.



P.S, got very distressed reading the above until I realised the sudden disappearance was the teddy bear, not your father Val. At least i hope that's the case!
 


P.S, got very distressed reading the above until I realised the sudden disappearance was the teddy bear, not your father Val. At least i hope that's the case![/QUOTE]

Oh, that's kind of you, Ryan! NO, it was my teddy ... my Dad was very much present in my childhood!
 
I know you will let me slip this one in Val. There is a reference to " Kinfolks" in the poignant final verse. First heard Dave Bromberg sing this. Written by Paul Siebel who adapted it from a poem by Willa Cather. I've included the lyrics because they are simple, elegant and powerful.
Those other years, those dusty years
When we drove the big herds through
I tried to forget the miles we rode
And Spanish Johnny, you!
He'd sit beside a water ditch
When all his herd was in
He'd never harm a child
But sing to his mandolin
He sang the old songs, the old talk
And the dealin' of our games
Spanish Johnny seldom spoke
But sang songs of Spain
And his talk with men was vicious talk
When he was drunk on gin
But those were golden things he said
To his mandolin
We had to stand, we had to judge
We had to stop him then
See those hands so gentle to a child
Had killed so many men
He died a hard death long ago
Before the roads came in
And the night before he swung
He sang to his mandolin
We carried him out in the morning light
The man who done no good
Laid him down in a cold, cold clay
Stuck in a cross of wood
And a letter we wrote to his kinfolks
To tell'em where he'd been
We shipped it on down to Mexico
Along with the mandolin
 
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