My husband and I exchanged presents at Solstice to spread the greedy shredding through the week, and we also got gifts from his wonderful Mom and some CDs I ordered ages ago finally arrived. I am the richest woman in the world right now . . . check this open-backed madness out: (maybe you won’t get the significance . . .these are albums from the best old-time musicians there are/were, so pretend you care)

Freight Hoppers–Where’s you come from, where’d you go

Highwoods String Band–Feed Your Babies Onions

Bruce Molsky–Contented Must Be

plus . . . for the Ska lover in all of us

Best of Toots and the Maytals

AND, since she’s the best Irish singer there is

Karen Casey–Distant Shore

And because it’s too good for words,

Ben Harper and the Blind Boys from Alabama

I’ve been listening to bad-ass banjo picking all morning, and will get a bit international after lunch. And, as if that weren’t enough, I also got Andy Goldsworthy’s Stone (because we tree-hugging dirt-worshippers really go for rocks, too) and the Foxfire Appalachian cookbook (I’m gonna put up some crazy pickles, goodlordwillinandthecreekdontrise) and a gorgeous handmade bowl from an awesome potter in Salt Lake. My head may just explode with joy.

Imagine my hillbilly falsetto of joy . . .

We hadn’t been married but about two weeks

She grew mean as the devil

And every time I grew cross-eyed

She hit me in the head with a shovel

Prettiest girl ever I saw and her name was devilish Maaar-y . . .

Trackback URI | Comments RSS