Recently, I was asked to be on a promotional video which the company hosts on YouTube at Fanchonfilms.  This video has me playing the Old-Time tune of Angelina Baker (Angeline the Baker - we call it) and the story of how that tune was made was told.

I hope you enjoy this video. There are a couple mistakes in the narration, one my last name (its Myers) and the other is that the tune was from the 1850s not the 1950s.

I had hoped to post an article here about McClurg but as the article began to take shape, I aspired to bring the article to a wider audience.  I am hoping to have the article which is titled “McClurg: The Tradition Continues” published in the Old-Time Herald. I have it almost finished as I have been adding little tidbits of information, as well as double checking information, I feel is pertinent.

Last night down at McClurg I was able to record HK Silvey playing which I hope to use as I begin developing a library of tunes which can be cataloged so one can find a particular name easily and pull its Audio file.

Also while down at McClurg we had a visitor which Gordon McCann brought from MSU.  Former Ladybears Coach Cheryl Burnett came down and visited and listened to the music as well as kicked up a jig dance while I was playing Grey Eagle on the fiddle…that was fun!

I have begun to play music at Bakercreek Heirloom Seed Company. They have invited me to be a regular musician to play in any location they need filled.  Also I am scheduled at the Ozarks Folk Center on April 17th at 2:45pm to play a set lasting 45 minutes. It is exciting to be able to play music and even more exciting to be able to play and make a few bucks also.

I hope to post more about what is going on at the farm another time.  So for now I will leave and say God Bless.

Way back in the year 1986 I was 5 years old.  I sneaked into my parents’ room and looked in the top drawer of the vanity and found a little 4 inch shiny piece of metal also known as a harmonica.  I sneaked it out and while my dad was at work I blew and blew on that thing until later that day while in my room I figured it out…a melody! That was the beginning of my musical quest.

After finding out I could play the harmonica better than him, my dad let me have the instrument. Two years later came a guitar for my birthday in which I strummed and plunked on it for a year before a divorce sent me on the road to live beside my uncle who, ironically enough, played the guitar well. Day after day I would walk up the road two houses away and go in and learn to play music with him. I learned chords and a few lead tunes like “Windy and Warm” by Chet Atkins and of course “Wildwood Flower” by the Carters.

This is a Takamine who many have called the "Lawsuit" guitar because it was a nock off of a Martin. This guitar is not mine only loaned to me by my brother. It is the only Guitar I use.

Those two instruments were the primary musical influences I had growing up.  When I got married we were living in Springfield when we decided to try to buy a house.  I, being a farm boy, wanted land and I didn’t care what the house looked like as long as there was room to roam. Funny thing was we settled on a place that had very little land…I believe it was God directing me…that’s another story some day.  We ended up purchasing 3.9 acres of land in Oldfield Missouri.

As the months went by soon I learned of a neighboring girl who at the time was 15 years old and was often talked about by locals I had talked to who knew her.  She played the Fiddle and was a student of the late Bob Holt. Holt who was the winner of the $10,000 National Heritage Award and played square dances around the country for years, taught her since she was very young.  Who’s the girl? Ashley Hull.  She lives a stone’s throw across the road from the house I wouldn’t have normally bought, but did.

Still never having met her I learned about a Jam session at a place called McClurg from her grandmother (I fixed her computer problems).  It was an old town that only had one gas station that was out of business and a couple houses.  I took my guitar down with me to play with them. Up to this point my guitar experience had been the occasional performance at church or even sometimes playing in the band and then lots of time spent playing at home. Hours upon hours at home…but this was really the first time playing with a group of musicians who knew music. I quickly found out that not playing with others causes the musician to lose their timing abilities…assuming I had timing in the first place.

I met Ashley while down there and I began to get an itch for the fiddle and that was in 2004.  By the end of 2004 I was going to school at a local college and I was able to acquire a cheap Chinese fiddle from a teacher whose daughter didn’t want to play anymore. I paid $50 for it. I took it home and because I wasn’t really a stranger to music my first job was to learn where the notes were. Scales were never really taught to me by anyone but I knew I had to learn where the notes were and as a result I practiced scales without knowing.

This is my Standard fiddle which I keep tuned to GDAE. It is actually a "Permanent Loaner" by Alvie Dooms who was the guitar player for the late Bob Holt. This is a Hofner and has a very loud sweet and sound.

The fiddle for me was not hard to figure out.  In fact was simple!  The hard part is making it not sound like a cat being strangled.  As my intonation got better I still continued my every Monday night at 6:00pm jam session at McClurg playing only the guitar. Finally I brought the fiddle down with me.  Everyone’s eyes turned to an eerie form of disbelief and I sawed out Soldiers Joy, Amazing Grace, and Little Dutch Girl (which I recorded by tape at a previous Jam session).

I continued to find more tunes I could learn but I was having trouble hearing the notes and being able to replicate it on the fiddle.  So I spoke to Ashley and asked her how she does it.  She said, Bob always slowed down the tunes for her on tape while she was learning then she became able to pick up many tunes at full speed.  Most of her tunes though Bob played normal speed then played at a really slow speed.  So she offered her tapes to me to copy…yes I said she offered them to me.  No cost. I copied all the tapes and while many of the tapes were so rough I couldn’t learn the tune (her tape recorder wasn’t the greatest) I still have a plethora of tunes I can learn from to this day.

After some time with the tapes I felt like I wasn’t learning things right. I thought I need work on my bowing…because everyone says most of fiddling is in the bowing.  So I asked Ashley if I could take lessons. She agreed and I began at first with a tape recorder but after my disgust with the quality, I began taking a video camera with me.  I would record the tune fast then slow and on some tunes I had an intermediate speed, then I could watch the bowing and see the how she noted the tunes.  And because it was digital, I could upload them to my computer and save them on my hard drive for later study or to edit to an even slower rate using video editing software.

This is my Cross tuned fiddle. Usually tuned to AEAE or AEAC# sometimes I tune to DDAD. This is my Fiddle I bought at a Antique store for a $100. Plays wonderfull. This is a Strad Copy. In addition to these two fiddles, I have two other fiddles which are mine but their quality of play is low.

I began learning every tune I could.  In the early days I would learn at least two tunes a week and I could have learned more but I felt I should hold it back to two.  I must admit, however, over the years my zeal has faltered a bit and I learn a new tune about once a month now.  However with over a hundred tunes I know, I never lack tunes to play in practice or in jam sessions.  I have played all day and most of night in jams before and have never played the same tune twice.

As a side note I recommend to everyone who plays the fiddle to use the computer and create a spreadsheet of the names of the tunes and a few notes to start it. In a Jam, you have so many melodies flying around its hard to remember how to start your tune so the first few notes helps you to start. A fiddle is tuned GDAE so I type G1 for the first finger position on the G string and so on.  You could write by hand but it’s easier on the computer.

As I learned about this “new music” called Traditional or Old-Time music, I learned that the culture of the music is so appealing to me that it’s as if I were created to continue the “tradition”.  I began to take an interest in other instruments of “Old-Time” music which were the banjo, mandolin, and mountain dulcimer. I must admit that my skills of these are nowhere near as good as either the guitar or the fiddle.  I can mostly play rhythm.

This is a cheap Chinese banjo I got out of a trade for labor. Cheep but it works for what I know.

The Mandolin I recently bought.

Even though I have played the Guitar for over 20 years, the Fiddle is “My Instrument”.  I may not be as good as Ashley, but I love to play the fiddle more than any other instrument.  And though I was taught by Ashley, I have a distinct sound that is unlike hers and I feel it makes it mine.  For me, if it were not for Traditional Music, I think that I may not have ever discovered who I am, what I enjoy, and how that fuzzy image of a dream could be clarified into reality.

When I have some more time I am going to do a post that was requested and I think is high time I did it.  Its about Jeremy the Musician that will include information on the instruments as well as my thoughts.

But for now this is all I have time for.

Hope you all enjoy.

The Family

Happy to be with Papa

New Fiddler

See already shows interest

Had to do a fiddle Pose

Its actually hard for me to begin this post with a creative spin. Rather, I find myself slipping into the “Did this”, “Did that”, and more.  There have been a days when I have slipped into a state of dispair and confusion, but non were like that which I have experience the last couple weeks.  It began when for the second time I was told by my boss, “you are going to take the H1N1 Vaccination”. So I when home and prayed about it for 3 days.  It is, to me,  something I am very much against, not only medically, but socially and ethically.  I did however come to the same conclusion both times of prayer…I will not consent!  “Thats okay”, came the reply, “you can just write me an email for your resignation”.  I said, “I dont intend to quit”, he said “okay, your terminated”.  I went home feeling I did the right thing even though the consequences were somewhat dire.

A few days later we had other issues that we began to mull over- of which I will not cover here.  Again, discussed with Wife, Family, friends and prayed, then came the conclusion.  After making the decision (a very big decision!) it was made clear to me that I could not carry it out.  Now what? I thought to myself, I thought I prayed about it and did all I could to make sure I was doing the right thing.  But when it came down to it God had other plans.

So again, I sit where I was the day after the termination.  No job.  Work prospects are at a low.  I am setting in a situation where I feel I cannot control a thing.  Funny.  I began reading a book about Amish Enterprises.  I ran across the word, Gelassenheit (Gay-la’-sen-hite) which is a German word that has a complex meaning.  It is an important part of Amish life, this yieldedness, letting be, or the submission to the will of God,  is a concept that comes from the Bible when Jesus said, “not my will but thine be done,” thereby making individuality, selfishness, and pride, abhorrent. “He submits to Christ, loses his own will, and yields (Gelassenheit) himself in all areas.” Serving others and submitting to God, therefore, permeates all aspects of Amish life. A person’s personality must be modest, reserved, calm, and quiet. The values which must be apparent in a believer’s actions are submission, obedience, humility and simplicity. Gelassenheit should be the overriding aspect for every person within the Amish community, and it must be viewable through actions and possessions.

I dont beleive that I was wrong in objecting to the shot as it was an invasive issue one that was a requirement to live, only to hold my job which God will provide another.  But, in the subsequent days when I was considering my situations and issues, I neglected to take into account that God has a plan for our life and that by trying to force a move one way or the other (the path I deceded), I didnt yeild to Gods positional plan for us.  Rather, I tried to reposition ourselves as we thought fit.

So, to bring this to a close, I have learned that God has control not us.  He opens doors, not us.  He walks, we follow, not the other way around. In this way, we submit or Gelassenheit to Gods will for us and we remove our individualistic approach to life there by making our success second to God’s and our progress dependent on Gods choices, which are always better than ours.  The growth of the Amish prove this is a realistic approace and a much better alternative to modern pessimism.

One additional note, different subject, I am almost finished with a new CD and I now know the title I will give it.  The song “My Little One’s Waiting for Me” will also be the title tune as I thought it appropriate since I have a new baby girl and there is an Original tune I created titled “Sweet Abby Rose”.  As of right now there will be 6 vocals on a 14 track CD.  My friend David Scrivner helped me with a good number of them.  I played guitar for him for his fiddle tunes and he played guitar for my fiddle tunes.  The new mic is working great and the recording is much better then before.  I am excited about this new CD.  All the tunes are from the Ozarks area.  I still have much research to do on historys and such but I hope it will be ready by Feburary or March.  Much of it depends on my work situation and how much I can invest in the CD’s.  As usual when it is completed it will be available through our Online Store or iTunes.

Tonight I though I would post a long publication.  It is a public domain publication and to my knowledge there has never been a better written piece to show the simplicities and complexities of the free market system.  I think ever school child should read this to understand how economics truly works.  The title is “I,Pencil” a simple object to accomplish a simple task, to teach people that Government run “anything” will never be as efficient as free market enterprise.

Please take the time to read this short work and then let me know what you thought.

I, Pencil

By Leonard E. Read (1898-1983)

I am a lead pencil—the ordinary wooden pencil familiar to all boys and girls and adults who can read and write.

Writing is both my vocation and my avocation; that’s all I do.

You may wonder why I should write a genealogy. Well, to begin with, my story is interesting. And, next, I am a mystery—more so than a tree or a sunset or even a flash of lightning. But, sadly, I am taken for granted by those who use me, as if I were a mere incident and without background. This supercilious attitude relegates me to the level of the commonplace. This is a species of the grievous error in which mankind cannot too long persist without peril. For, as a wise man observed, “We are perishing for want of wonder, not for want of wonders.”

I, Pencil, simple though I appear to be, merit your wonder and awe, a claim I shall attempt to prove. In fact, if you can understand me—no, that’s too much to ask of anyone—if you can become aware of the miraculousness which I symbolize, you can help save the freedom mankind is so unhappily losing. I have a profound lesson to teach. And I can teach this lesson better than can an automobile or an airplane or a mechanical dishwasher because—well, because I am seemingly so simple.

Simple? Yet, not a single person on the face of this earth knows how to make me. This sounds fantastic, doesn’t it? Especially when it is realized that there are about one and one-half billion of my kind produced in the U. S. A. each year.

Pick me up and look me over. What do you see? Not much meets the eye—there’s some wood, lacquer, the printed labeling, graphite lead, a bit of metal, and an eraser.

Just as you cannot trace your family tree back very far, so is it impossible for me to name and explain all my antecedents. But I would like to suggest enough of them to impress upon you the richness and complexity of my background.

My family tree begins with what in fact is a tree, a cedar of straight grain that grows in Northern California and Oregon. Now contemplate all the saws and trucks and rope and the countless other gear used in harvesting and carting the cedar logs to the railroad siding. Think of all the persons and the numberless skills that went into their fabrication: the mining of ore, the making of steel and its refinement into saws, axes, motors; the growing of hemp and bringing it through all the stages to heavy and strong rope; the logging camps with their beds and mess halls, the cookery and the raising of all the foods. Why, untold thousands of persons had a hand in every cup of coffee the loggers drink!

The logs are shipped to a mill in San Leandro, California. Can you imagine the individuals who make flat cars and rails and railroad engines and who construct and install the communication systems incidental thereto? These legions are among my antecedents.

Consider the millwork in San Leandro. The cedar logs are cut into small, pencil-length slats less than one-fourth of an inch in thickness. These are kiln dried and then tinted for the same reason women put rouge on their faces. People prefer that I look pretty, not a pallid white. The slats are waxed and kiln dried again. How many skills went into the making of the tint and the kilns, into supplying the heat, the light and power, the belts, motors, and all the other things a mill requires? Sweepers in the mill among my ancestors? Yes, and included are the men who poured the concrete for the dam of a Pacific Gas & Electric Company hydroplant which supplies the mill’s power!

Don’t overlook the ancestors present and distant who have a hand in transporting sixty carloads of slats across the nation from California to Wilkes-Barre!

Complicated Machinery

Once in the pencil factory—$4,000,000 in machinery and building, all capital accumulated by thrifty and saving parents of mine—each slat is given eight grooves by a complex machine, after which another machine lays leads in every other slat, applies glue, and places another slat atop—a lead sandwich, so to speak. Seven brothers and I are mechanically carved from this “wood-clinched” sandwich.

My “lead” itself—it contains no lead at all—is complex. The graphite is mined in Ceylon. Consider these miners and those who make their many tools and the makers of the paper sacks in which the graphite is shipped and those who make the string that ties the sacks and those who put them aboard ships and those who make the ships. Even the lighthouse keepers along the way assisted in my birth—and the harbor pilots.

The graphite is mixed with clay from Mississippi in which ammonium hydroxide is used in the refining process. Then wetting agents are added such as sulfonated tallow—animal fats chemically reacted with sulfuric acid. After passing through numerous machines, the mixture finally appears as endless extrusions—as from a sausage grinder—cut to size, dried, and baked for several hours at 1,850 degrees Fahrenheit. To increase their strength and smoothness the leads are then treated with a hot mixture which includes candelilla wax from Mexico, paraffin wax, and hydrogenated natural fats.

My cedar receives six coats of lacquer. Do you know all of the ingredients of lacquer? Who would think that the growers of castor beans and the refiners of castor oil are a part of it? They are. Why, even the processes by which the lacquer is made a beautiful yellow involves the skills of more persons than one can enumerate!

Observe the labeling. That’s a film formed by applying heat to carbon black mixed with resins. How do you make resins and what, pray, is carbon black?

My bit of metal—the ferrule—is brass. Think of all the persons who mine zinc and copper and those who have the skills to make shiny sheet brass from these products of nature. Those black rings on my ferrule are black nickel. What is black nickel and how is it applied? The complete story of why the center of my ferrule has no black nickel on it would take pages to explain.

Then there’s my crowning glory, inelegantly referred to in the trade as “the plug,” the part man uses to erase the errors he makes with me. An ingredient called “factice” is what does the erasing. It is a rubber-like product made by reacting rape seed oil from the Dutch East Indies with sulfur chloride. Rubber, contrary to the common notion, is only for binding purposes. Then, too, there are numerous vulcanizing and accelerating agents. The pumice comes from Italy; and the pigment which gives “the plug” its color is cadium sulfide.

Does anyone wish to challenge my earlier assertion that no single person on the face of this earth knows how to make me?

No One Knows

Actually, millions of human beings have had a hand in my creation, no one of whom even knows more than a very few of the others. Now, you may say that I go too far in relating the picker of a coffee berry in far off Brazil and food growers elsewhere to my creation; that this is an extreme position. I shall stand by my claim. There isn’t a single person in all these millions, including the president of the pencil company, who contributes more than a tiny, infinitesimal bit of know-how. From the standpoint of know-how the only difference between the miner of graphite in Ceylon and the logger in Oregon is in the type of know-how. Neither the miner nor the logger can be dispensed with, any more than can the chemist at the factory or the worker in the oil field—paraffin being a by-product of petroleum.

Here is an astounding fact: Neither the worker in the oil field nor the chemist nor the digger of graphite or clay nor any who mans or makes the ships or trains or trucks nor the one who runs the machine that does the knurling on my bit of metal nor the president of the company performs his singular task because he wants me. Each one wants me less, perhaps, than does a child in the first grade. Indeed, there are some among this vast multitude who never saw a pencil nor would they know how to use one. Their motivation is other than me. Perhaps it is something like this: Each of these millions sees that he can thus exchange his tiny know-how for the goods and services he needs or wants. I may or may not be among these items.

There is a fact still more astounding: The absence of a master mind, of anyone dictating or forcibly directing these countless actions which bring me into being. No trace of such a person can be found. Instead, we find the Invisible Hand at work. This is the mystery to which I earlier referred.

It has been said that “only God can make a tree.” Why do we agree with this? Isn’t it because we realize that we ourselves could not make one? Indeed, can we even describe a tree? We cannot, except in superficial terms. We can say, for instance, that a certain molecular configuration manifests itself as a tree. But what mind is there among men that could even record, let alone direct, the constant changes in molecules that transpire in the life span of a tree? Such a feat is utterly unthinkable!

I, Pencil, am a complex combination of miracles: a tree, zinc, copper, graphite, and so on. But to these miracles which manifest themselves in Nature an even more extraordinary miracle has been added: the configuration of creative human energies—millions of tiny know-hows configurating naturally and spontaneously in response to human necessity and desire and in the absence of any human master-minding! Since only God can make a tree, I insist that only God could make me. Man can no more direct these millions of know-hows to bring me into being than he can put molecules together to create a tree.

The above is what I meant when writing, “If you can become aware of the miraculousness which I symbolize, you can help save the freedom mankind is so unhappily losing.” For, if one is aware that these know-hows will naturally, yes, automatically, arrange themselves into creative and productive patterns in response to human necessity and demand—that is, in the absence of governmental or any other coercive master-minding—then one will possess an absolutely essential ingredient for freedom: a faith in free men. Freedom is impossible without this faith.

Once government has had a monopoly of a creative activity such, for instance, as the delivery of the mails, most individuals will believe that the mails could not be efficiently delivered by men acting freely. And here is the reason: Each one acknowledges that he himself doesn’t know how to do all the things incident to mail delivery. He also recognizes that no other individual could do it. These assumptions are correct. No individual possesses enough know-how to perform a nation’s mail delivery any more than any individual possesses enough know-how to make a pencil. Now, in the absence of a faith in free men—in the unawareness that millions of tiny know-hows would naturally and miraculously form and cooperate to satisfy this necessity—the individual cannot help but reach the erroneous conclusion that mail can be delivered only by governmental “master-minding.”

If I, Pencil, were the only item that could offer testimony on what men can accomplish when free to try, then those with little faith would have a fair case. However, there is testimony galore; it’s all about us and on every hand. Mail delivery is exceedingly simple when compared, for instance, to the making of an automobile or a calculating machine or a grain combine or a milling machine or to tens of thousands of other things. Delivery? Why, in this area where men have been left free to try, they deliver the human voice around the world in less than one second; they deliver an event visually and in motion to any person’s home when it is happening; they deliver 150 passengers from Seattle to Baltimore in less than four hours; they deliver gas from Texas to one’s range or furnace in New York at unbelievably low rates and without subsidy; they deliver each four pounds of oil from the Persian Gulf to our Eastern Seaboard—half-way around the world—for less money than the government charges for delivering a one-ounce letter across the street!

The lesson I have to teach is this: Leave all creative energies uninhibited. Merely organize society to act in harmony with this lesson. Let society’s legal apparatus remove all obstacles the best it can. Permit these creative know-hows freely to flow. Have faith that free men will respond to the Invisible Hand. This faith will be confirmed. I, Pencil, seemingly simple though I am, offer the miracle of my creation as testimony that this is a practical faith, as practical as the sun, the rain, a cedar tree, the good earth.

Behold, my servant shall act wisely; he shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted.  As many were astonished at you - his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind - so shall he sprinkle many nations; kings shall shut their mouths because of him; for that which has not been told them they see, and that which they have not heard they understand.  Who has believed what they heard from us?  And to whom has the arm of the lord been revealed?  For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.  He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Isaiah 52:13-53:3

I thought I would start out this post by first posing the question…why do we celebrate Christmas?  Depending on whether you hold to the faith that Jesus Christ is God in the flesh, you may say that we celebrate Christmas because of the birth of Jesus or if you don’t believe in Jesus you might say well we celebrate it because its a time when we can show kindness and love in giving or maybe its just as simple as “its a day off…I’ll take it!” 

Lets say you are a follower of Christ, then many Christ-ians (Christ-followers) would say we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ born to Mary who was a virgin impregnated by the seed of the Holy Spirit.  Many would acknowledge that we do not know the exact time when he was born but it really doesn’t matter as we celebrate the birth on December 25. 

But is really his birth we are celebrating? We don’t celebrate my birth on a Global scale. 

No, its not the birth that was the defining event.  It was his death. 

Isaiah when speaking by the spirit of God painted a picture long before God had given Mary his blessing.  When you read what the prophet Isaiah said we see how God is in control of all that goes on in this world.  God’s ways are not like our ways.  Where we might have jumped to the point and brought Messiah to save the people (assuming we would have thought of such a thing) he let the world reach a climax to which he would use as a springboard to propagate the good news of a redeemer. 

No the truth is the insignificant birth of Jesus was inaugural birth of a redeemer who would one day free us from this “play world”  the Matrix -where troubles abound and reality is skewed- and bring us into a real relationship with the one who created us and to live with him in the real world.  But even though we live in the world of “play” we can still abide now with Christ in the real world through the understanding of how he redeemed us.

I have recently been very interested in the Norman Blake style of old-time music.  Tunes that are truly “old-time” and sound clear and simple.  Not embellished by special effects of a microphone or software.  I do have a few Originals I hope to put on there which I believe hold true to the “old-time” style.  It is my intent to offer you all more tunes with more vocals and more history.  I have not completed the list of tunes I plan to include on the CD but I am working on it even tonight.  There is even a special tune which I have composed that I am naming after my daughter which currently has no lyrics but it is my intent to write lyrics.

I want to preserve many of the tunes that were common here in the Ozarks so most of the vocals and instrumentals will have originated or was common to the early Ozarkians.

I was recently mentioned on another blogger’s website who wrote an inspiring piece about myself and my family and thanks to his words I have been reinvigorated to pursue old-time music more.

Old-Time is my style of music.  True, pure, and unadulterated.  No frills, no fuss, tell it to you straight.  It is music that people made to pass time, teach lessons, and remember times of old.  It infuses the mind with simplicity to know reality and gives perspective to life.  It is not just for liberals or conservatives; it is not just for Christians or agnostics, rather, it is for common man.  It gives a simple voice in a time when not even music is real but rather a synthisized version of reality as in the Matrix.  It is not about being popular, but instead true to ones ability. This is the music of the people.  This is Old-Time.

Going Home By Norman Blake & Rich O’Brien (Click to Play)

Grandpa’s Barn by Norman Blake & Rich O’Brien (Click to Play)

I’m setting in my Hotel room in Sullivan Missouri.  We have been installing a large Camera system there over the past weeks. But right now I am bringing my mind back down to earth, away from the technical world of hustle and bustle, deadlines and expectations.  Just pure, clear, Norman Blake and Rich O’Brien music attending my ears as the thoughts of my orchard and gardening plans as well as my ideas of building and constructing various items for the farm pass from one side of my mind to the other.

It’s strange how my attitude has changed in a couple weeks.  I have begun to view my job as a puzzle piece.  In order to reach the goal of finishing the puzzle, I must find the place for this puzzle piece.   I may have to forgo finding the place of other pieces until I have found this one’s place, then, when it is in place, I can see the puzzle better so that I can add to it other pieces.

The scent of musty earth filled my mind’s nose as I drove this morning to my job site (a 2.5 hr drive) and I could actually remember the feelings as well as other scents when I thought of freshly thawed topsoil, moist and ready to usher in the spring.  Even as I stepped out of the van at my destination, I could sense the same feelings and was even relaxed and ready to start the day’s work.  As I continued though, the cold front that had been forecasted, made its way into the area, bringing with it a quick return to reality.

As the sounds of the gentle guitars are followed by a genuinely simple voices,  the goals of the future and the sacrifices of the present, in all, I remember that indeed,  simple times will come again.

Two farmers prayed for rain.  One prepared the Soil.  Who receives the harvest?

Neither rain nor dark of night shall... -Photo by Matt Lackrone

Here is a quick photo of a job site I was at a few months ago.  It had begun to rain and it was getting dark too and I am terminating Fiber Optics from a bucket truck into an exterior electrical box to carry the data (isolated from lightening) to the switching building.  Fun.

Not too much other than work and sleep has been going on around my place.  We had a good Thanksgiving with many of our family members over and I cooked up a Turkey we raised the year before along with a big deer tenderloin (all grilled of course).

It all turned out great.  But now that the Thanksgiving holiday is over, my thoughts are pulled to a legal issue we are dealing with.  I had to hire an attorney to help us to deal with our neighbors.  We had a survey done so I could put up a good boundary fence.  Well as a result the old fence was no where near the boundary (200 feet off in some places) and my neighbor is fighting it.  We sent a letter to them and showing the legal right we had and their response was…”Suite Me!”.  So now in order to get back around 2 acres of land they claim is part of their 40 acre property, I have to spend money to get it.  Not only is it imperative that I get it so farming will be possible but I need it if I am ever to sell this place in the future because now I know about the discrepancy.

One good thing that has happened lately is that a well established Old-Time music magazine, “The Old-Time Herald” has reviewed my CD with a nice little review.  I will let you read

Scanned photo by Steve Overby

it for yourself.  Here is a scanned image of it out of the magazine which a friend of mine, Steve Overby, sent me.  Steve is a very good fiddler and hails from Alabama.

As a result of this review I have begun to sell a few CD’s at a higher rate then I had been averaging before.

I have put a few promo videos online also a few weeks ago.  I plan on doing one more at least but for now here is what I have.  Hope you all enjoy it.  Have a good weekend…TGIF!either

Bonaparte Crossing the Rhine

Johnny in the Briar Patch-Original Composition