BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 17 Mar 04 - 08:52 PM

I love that song--Shirley MacLaine did a good version, but oh, could Peggy Lee belt it out!

Contemplating fuzzy pussy willows and blue tits--Liz, that is a Must-See garden, I can tell from here! (My next door neighbor has a "shade" garden for ferns and such under a large hackberry--but right now it has these many clusters of fungus that look like she's growing brains out there!)

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 18 Mar 04 - 06:50 PM

Liz, what's in your PG-rated garden today? The tavern is quiet, has everyone taken their drinks out to check out her the blue tits?

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 18 Mar 04 - 08:22 PM

Dunno what's in the garden, been busy in the bedroom.

LTS

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: GUEST,MAG in public lab at work
Date: 18 Mar 04 - 08:25 PM

I may not get my home machine back until Tuesday. Nothing wrong except a really serious attempt to infect it, apparently. annoying, and no doubt expensive.

I am off to Singtime Frolics this weekend where I expect to have a wunnerful wunnerful time and forget all about it.

Right now I will join y'all on the patio/porch and indulge in several virtual cognacs.

Rounds, anyone? The musical kind, I mean.

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: matai
Date: 19 Mar 04 - 05:52 AM

well if there is a bar stool that could accommodate a tallish, well built woman with a washburn guitar and a baroque/broke voice i could do Baez's 'Diamonds and Rust' or my smultchy version of 'Iris' (googoo dolls) or any number of songs inbetween like 'What gars ye greet my bonnie lass?' (Bob McNeill) or 'Scrub and Blackberry' (Paul Bond) plus a few of my own with your vocal and instrumental accompaniment. It would make my day/night your time.

afterwards, just to add some husk to my voice, i could go for a strawberry and ice-cream thick shake.

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Allan C.
Date: 19 Mar 04 - 08:09 AM

Mike's over there in the corner, matai. Have a go, if you're inclined. Oh and there's a stage with a microphone just to your left.

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 19 Mar 04 - 07:09 PM

Just don't slip on the wet spot near the hot tub. . .oops . . . well, your skirt will dry, and the guys hopefully averted there eyes when you took that tumble. The guitar looks okay, and the bruises will heal in a couple of weeks. . . barkeep, what did you put in this woman's strawberry milkshake?

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: matai
Date: 20 Mar 04 - 04:59 AM

Which Mike for what purpose? Did I ask for that?
And why do you want me to fall down Stilly Sage? I haven't even got up there yet. You might like what I do. Want to join in even.

You folks sure do make a woman from downunder welcome

}:-(

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Allan C.
Date: 20 Mar 04 - 07:58 AM

All in fun, matai. Any "tallish, well built woman with a washburn guitar and a baroque/broke voice" is certainly a friend of mine!

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: GUEST,Lonesome EJ
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 03:15 AM

The old man and the boy stood on the bank of the creek. The stream, which had trickled through a snow-choked channel only a month ago, was now rushing with meltwater from far up the mountain. It was still a meager flow compared to the torrent it would become in a few more weeks, though, and the boy balanced on a boulder to thrust a stick into it. "See, Grampa?" he said. "It's halfway up the tree limb now!" The old man sat and, taking a kitchen match from the brim of his hat, re-lit his pipe. He sat on an old weather-peeled log and patted the space next to him. The boy came and sat, jabbing in the pine needles with his stick. The old man gradually raised his arm, pointing a gnarled forefinger at a rock overhang some four feet above the creek bed. "Watch and you'll likely see somethin'" he said. The boy sat staring at the rock for a while in excitement, then anxiousness, then weariness, and finally he let his body roll backwards off the log, shooting at a bluejay with his stick in the fir above him.

Suddenly, he felt the old man reach under his back and raise him back up onto the log. The old man pointed again, and this time the boy saw the otter, who poked its nose out from under the rock, sniffing, its eyes watery as if with sleep. After a momentary hesitation, it clambered part way down the bank and then slid into the creek. It disappeared in the cloudy water, but then broke surface near a small boulder, paddling in the calm backwater casually, turning to catch the sun on his belly.

The boy glanced up to see another otter and three tiny kits emerge from beneath the rock. The female nudged the infants forward until they slid floundering in the water. The male seemed to watch this exercise with some amusement, then submerged briefly, then re-emerged near the other four. The old man and the boy watched for some time until the boy made an effort to approach the kits and frightened the family back to their lair.

"Now you scared em Charlie," said the old man, and it wasn't until he saw the quizzical look on the boy's face that the old man realized he was calling the boy by another boy's name, another boy that had stood on this same spot some thirty years ago, a boy who had become this boy's father. The old man tapped out his pipe and thought of all the springs and all the litters of young otters who had made their first journey from the warm safety of the lair to this strange cold moving world. And that made him think of all the other Marches of his life, and of how that portentious month had always borne him a load of hardship and hope, of bitter endings and bright beginnings, an equal freight of life and death. He mused that this was his third spring without Maisie and that the pain of that ending, which had been as sharp as the blade of a knife, had become something he could finally begin to let go of, the pain slipping away like the rushing water before him, until the memories of her were only the warm and sweet ones that gave him comfort. He watched the boy balancing on a rock and holding the stick in the air. The separation of the boy's parents had caused his son to leave the child in the old man's care for the spring. And there was an ending and a beginning in that too. After the initial awkwardness, the boy had taken to his grampa, and had left his computer games long enough to ride in the old truck, or help carry in firewood, or walk down to the creek.
The old man rose from his seat, stretched, and put his pipe in his shirt pocket. "Come on Charlie" he said, and this time the boy only smiled, leaned the stick against a boulder and ran to catch up with the man who, as if by instinct, took the boy's hand firmly but gently in his own as he walked up the trail.

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: matai
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 07:23 AM

Beautiful. I feel quite rested after reading that.

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 08:50 AM

Well today is certainly living up to the reputation of March - in like a lion, out like a lamb... howling gales yesterday and now intermittent showers between the most glorious bright sunshine that's warm and soothing.

LTS

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 10:46 AM

The Mudcat Tavern is known for its silliness, Matai, and we all have to be careful about tripping over ducks and cats. There have been some improvements--for example, the hot tub is now where the green jello pit used to be. Keep an eye on the rafters--things sometimes swing down from up there. That said, the accoustics are fabulous, the food and booze keep coming, and it's all on an un-expiring VISA card left behind years ago by a Mudcatter who hasn't been around to visit for a while. There are some very interesting doors to enter and leave, including a coat closet that exits out the back into the Mudcat Recovery Ward and several hemispherical doors for our global visitors to use.

Sorry about the wet spot. We'll get someone in here to clean that up. :)

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: katlaughing
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 12:39 PM

HeyaLeeJ, you are STILL a tall drink a'water! Bee-U-Tee-Full, darlin' and welcome back to the Tavern!!

It's been the week from hell out here, so somebody get me a couple of shots of tequila, lime and salt, quick, please! And, let's hear some Blues!! I gotta kick this outta my system...oops, forgot my own set-up...this is the quiet, restful place isn't it? Oh, well, forget the shots, just a nice hot cuppa, some tunes from downunder, welcome matai, and I'll just stop to catch my breath...probably what I really need anyway!

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: katlaughing
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 01:19 PM

Well, I missed the news above e're I came in here. Now, I am glad of the quiet and would raise a glass of sorrow and fare-thee-well for our beloved Rick Fielding. Would someone lead us in Jerry Ramussen's Handful of Songs, please? And, when we're ready, Rick's own "Sing with the angels..."

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: AllisonA(Animaterra)
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 05:36 PM

When you're done with those songs, I've got another one for Rick- scroll up to find Ian Robb's words for the Sacred Harp song Halleluia here.

Allison

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: GUEST,MAG in Portland
Date: 21 Mar 04 - 09:59 PM

The fire is out; the moon is down

The parting glass is dry and done

and I must go and leave this town

Before the rising of the sun

Long the road and far the mile

Before I rest my soul again
With those who weep and those who smile

And all the ways and wrds of men.

for you, Rick. it's a parting song, and any parting song seems right about now.

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 22 Mar 04 - 01:24 AM

MAG, great minds think alike. This evening I spent some time transcribing Paddy Graber's version of "Parting Glass" :

Of all the money that e'er I spent
I've spent it in good company
And all the harm that ever I did
Sure alas it was to none but me

And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
Oh come fill to me the parting glass
Good luck and joy be with you all

If I had money enough to spend
And leisure to sit awhile
There is a fair maid in the town
That sorely has my heart beguiled

Her roughish eye, her ruby lips
She has in faith my heart enthralled
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

Oh, of all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my going away
And of all the sweethearts that e'er I had
Sue they'd bid me one more night to stay

And since it falls unto my lot
That I must rise yet you need not
I will gently rise I will softly call
Oh may peace and joy be with you all.

Spoken:

Deep Peace of the running wave to you
Deep Peace of the flowing air to you
Deep Peace of the quiet earth to you
But above all, peace.

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 22 Mar 04 - 06:31 PM

For Fliss, Rod, Dave, Wally, Tony, Judith and now Rick, along with all the others.
They aren't here but they know who they are.

We gather here together, friends both old and new,
To share our songs and laughter, tell a stirring tale or two.
But time is rolling onwards, and the toll it takes is dear;
And every year there's one less voice, who will it be next year?

When first we met in company, when none the other knew,
We shared our songs and laughter,
and friendships bloomed and grew.
In harmony and unison, our voices blended clear;
But every year there's one less voice, who will it be next year?

The songs we sang were old ones, songs of peace and war,
Of sailing ships and lovers' arms, the miners' life and more.
But all of them in common, were pleasing to the ear;
But every year there's one less voice, who will it be next year?

So raise your voices up boys, in memory of those now gone.
Give thanks for those who gather to carry on the song,
And keep it ringing out now, keep singing through the tears,
So every year there's one more voice, who will it be next year?


Tune: The Rose of York (My name it is Mark Fenner)


A toast. To absent Friends.

LTS

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: SINSULL
Date: 23 Mar 04 - 01:26 PM

Blue tits? Mine are still pink from mastitis. HMMM you think those birds can offer some advice on a color chage? Pink just doesn't suit me.

I stopped by for a nice cold fruity drink.And half hoped Rick might be here. There has to be a door to the hereafter somewhere in this place...

Subject: RE: BS: The Respite Tavern - Spring on in
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 23 Mar 04 - 06:23 PM

You want blue tits? Fly over here and sit topless in the garden for an hour or two - I'll guarantee your tits will be seven shades of blue and purple in that time or less! It has turned decidedly chilly again, I know because Max the cat got into my nightshirt again this morning!

Either that, or he was a titspervert in a former life (Bridget Jones fans will know what I mean!)

LTS