Sitting At The Kitchen Table

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 24 Oct 06 - 09:10 AM

Jerry, your office sounds like my living room - I know I have a carpet cos last week (or was it the week before?) I vacuumed. I don't have enough storage so stuff has to live in (neat) piles on the floor, but some stuff moves in mysterious fashions to new spots on the floor!

Library books are the main culprits - decades ago I tried to persuade colleague to return long-term loans to the library & drew little books with legs on the notice. Seems like those leggy books live here now.

It's been wonderful reading about your family. Thankyou for sharing your mother & memories.

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: billybob
Date: 24 Oct 06 - 09:40 AM

Ebbie, thank you for the story about your sister.My daughter had given her father a tiny crystal angel when he first became ill, during his last hours he asked his wife twice who the lady standing behind her was, but there was no one there,
Some years ago my daughter had major surgery and told us afterwards that the operating theatre was crowded with all her angels watching over her.
Since then she has given little crystal angels to all her loved ones, I keep my with me where ever I go.
Thanks for your kind thoughts Jerry, I am going to play your CD and have a mug of coffee.
Wendy

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 24 Oct 06 - 01:03 PM

Further to the story, this was the sister who was brain damaged at birth. She learned to read and write but in later years she became very hard of hearing and her eyesight failed so her world got smaller and smaller as time went on. I'm glad that Mom was there!

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Elmer Fudd
Date: 25 Oct 06 - 12:49 PM

Aw shucks, how did I miss even getting close to 1300? I've been off chasing wabbits again, far from hearth and home.

Lots of thoughts, I see, about messages from loved ones at the moment they die or soon after. When my father died after a miserable year of illness, the next day I felt his presence near me, radiating light. I'm not one who looks for ooga-booga phenomena, and was much too exhausted at that moment to have an active imagination. So I do believe it was a real feeling of his presence. He was like a happy, hyperactive kid, bouncing off the walls and ceiling and doing cartwheeels and somersaults. I felt that he was letting me know how happy he was to be free from his tired, sick, painful, old body.

Elmer

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 25 Oct 06 - 02:18 PM

hahhahah I love it, Elmer.

I had a similar but rather bizarre experience once. A long story - but the upshot of having 'put down' a dog that was in miseries was that on my way home alone, this same dog was bouncing around in the back seat, barking happily at all that we passed. Kept me grinning all the way home.

??

There's an awful lot that we don't know - I love the mysteries.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 25 Oct 06 - 02:44 PM

And then there was the brilliantly sunny day when I was walking across the campus of Hunter College in the Bronx, where I was teaching. As I approached the heavy glass door to the building, it opened, and I walked through. It wasn't until I stepped through the doorway that I realized that there was no one in sight. It wasn't an automatic door, and I'd pulled that door open countless times in the previous months. The door was inset, so there was no way a gust of wind could have blown it open, even if it was a windy day. Which it wasn't. And then, this shiver crossed over my body.
Someone was still sucking up to the teachers, trying to get a passing grade.

Yikes!!!!!!!


Ooooooweeeeeeee!

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Rapparee
Date: 25 Oct 06 - 03:10 PM

When my mother died I was living in Ohio, near Akron. I'd spoken to her on the phone and with my siblings, of course. And then, at 2 a.m. EST, I woke up. My wife asked, "Mike, what's wrong?" and I replied, "Mom's dead."

Then the phone rang.

Later, I learned that my brother Ted was with her when she she died, and he left to get my brother and sister. One was already halfway to the room and the other was just leaving the "family room" down the hall. My other brother detoured to call me.

I just accept what happened, I don't try to explain it.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 25 Oct 06 - 03:14 PM

{{{{{hugs}}}}}

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 25 Oct 06 - 04:34 PM

At a time of deep depession many years ago, I was walking in downtown Stamford, where I was living. Suddenly I heard the voice of a little girl singing. I looked up and there she was, skipping down the sidewalk singing "A mighty fortress is our God." I caught my breath, and turned around to see where she was, as she had just skipped past me. There was no one on the street.

A few weeks later, I was walking down that same street and when I came to the spot where I'd seen the young girl, I thought about her. At that moment, the carillon tower in the church up the street suddenly started playing A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 25 Oct 06 - 10:25 PM

This kind of thing is what makes me KNOW that the cynics and nay-sayers really don't have a clue. Their stance doesn't make me angry though- I think that when they need the experience they too will see.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: billybob
Date: 27 Oct 06 - 10:38 AM

OOh the coffee has gone cold, putting a new pot on, Danish pastry anyone?

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Carly
Date: 27 Oct 06 - 11:41 AM

At least twice during my life I should have died. Once I was saved by my intellegent, observant husband Dean,and the miracle that, although we were hundreds of miles away from home, and anything familiar to us, we were very close to an excellent hospital that happened to have experts on call who understood my unusual problem. Even they, however, felt I was lucky to survive.
The other time, I was saved by a dream (a long, complicated tale.) Am I just lucky? Is someone watching over me? Do I have powers I don't understand? I cannot answer these questions, but I choose to believe that these experiences were gifts, and that I still had things to do in my life, so I'd best get on with it.

Please pass the pastry. Thanks.

Carly

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 27 Oct 06 - 11:57 AM

Hey, Wendy:

Don't mind if I do (although I'll pass on the Danish pastry.) I ate so many that I was in danger of becoming one, being Danish and all.

I'm taking this writing class and the teacher encouraged me to come up with a title for my book of memoirs, photographs and songs. Something catchy. I was having a conversation with Elmer Fudd and he mentioned how much he enjoyed my comment about my father never learning to tie a necktie. And a title presented itself. And a Forward to the book. This is it: first draft.

No Ties In Heaven

I grew up in the land of Oshkosh B'Gosh. The only bibs that you'd see at the kitchen table were on overalls. And people stil said "gosh," and "gollee." When my Father was really impressed about something, he'd say "Goll!" and drop the "ee."

When it came time for me to have my high school graduation picture taken there was only one problem. I didn't own a white shirt or tie. Worse yet, I had to stop and think for a minute who knew how to tie a necktie. My brother-in-law Ed came to the rescue. He grew up in Milwaukee where they wore ties, and he taught me the intricacies of getting a nice, tightly-tied knot on a tie. I tried to pass that new-found knowledge on to my Father, but he never got the knack of it. Once a tie was tied, he couldn't see any sense in untying it. He'd just loosen the tie and slip it over his head and hang it up, ready to wear the next time an occasion arose to wear it.

Friday nights, walking the streets of Janesville, Wisconsin where I grew up, you'd see a sea of blue jeans. The young men argued endlessly about which jeans were better: Levi's or Wranglers, while the farmers and the men who worked at "The Plant," (General Motors) preferred Oshkosh B'Gosh bib overalls. There were no "Dress Down" Fridays. Life was "Dress Down."

Walking down those same streets these days, you won't meet many people. They'll all be out at the Mall, or at the local Walmart or Target out on the "strip" on Milton Avenue. And any kids you see will be slouching along in clothes six sizes too big, inadvertently "Mooning" the people on the street every time they lean over. Occasionally, you'll see someone in bib overalls with a snow white crew cut. They'll most likely be having breakfast at McDonald's with the "boys", where they linger over a McMuffin and a paper cup of coffee, wisecracking and harmlessly flirting with the "girls" who are having their own little Koffee Klatch within earshot.

Over the years, I've talked with family members, long-since gone now, about what it was like when they were growing up. I've tried
to capture the sights and sounds of those days on paper and in songs. I wasn't interested in casting a nostalgic sheen over those times, or glamorizing the "Good Old Days." As I wrote in a song "For the good old days are still to come, though the hard times are not over." I just wanted to remember how life was like in the slow lane when milk was delivered by horse and wagon and ice boxes graced every kitchen.

And I think about my Mom and Dad and the times that they grew up in. I know that Mom was overjoyed to finally make it to Heaven to be reunited with her Mother and my Father. And Dad must have been relieved to find out that they don't wear ties in Heaven.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Carly
Date: 27 Oct 06 - 10:59 PM

They better not wear ties in heaven, or I don't know where my husband will land. He managed a long career as a scientist without owning a tie or a dress jacket, never mind a suit. He says that they are just plain silly and uncomfortable, and that anyplace that requires a tie is somewhere he would probably not want to be, anyway! Of course, I'm a fine one to talk. I will no longer wear high-heeled shoes for love or money. I don't care how nice they are supposed to make your legs look, walking in them is painful.

Carly

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 28 Oct 06 - 04:13 AM

I have a colleague who never wears a tie or suit. He's gone up the management tree by ability, & passes interviews without dressing up. He just wears his normal casual coloured shirts, & trousers & does not try to impress by dressing differently. He does not own a business shirt, or sports jacket, and certainly not a tie.

When his mother re-married & he said he was giving he bride away, I was very pleased to find out that he just wore his normal gear! Mother might have worn a pretty dress, but son was just himself.

I've never worn high heels as my feet could never cope with them. When I was at school I used to get pissed off I couldn't wear what everyone else was wearing. Today I just buy the comfortable lines that take orthotics & look in horror at the flimsy expensive stuff fashionable women wear.

Today I was listening to a young woman telling her friend that she had worn her lovely white court shoes as she did not expect to be walking too much. She was hobbling along with a bright pink band-aid sticking out over her heel.

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 28 Oct 06 - 08:26 AM

I can see that there's a woman's side to this issue. Maybe I could use the title "No High Heels In Heaven." I must admit that my Mother wore low high heels when she dressed up. She was just five feet tall, and at least she could see over stuff a little better.
Maybe "In The Land Of Oshkosh B'Gosh" is a better title. I have no idea what the female counterpart of that would be.

I find it humorous that the brand name Oshkosh B'Gosh is upscale and trendy now. Oshkosh B'Gosh just made bib work overalls when I was a kid. Now, the fancy stores will sell you designer Oshkosh B'Gosh bib overalls for your baby. And, down at Walmart's you can buy cheap Chinese copies of work overalls with a strap on the side to carry your hammer. Sixteen year old boys buy them so big they can hardly keep them from falling off when they walk, and they probably don't even know what a hammer is.

Life gets weirder by the moment.

(Now there's a good title for you..)

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 28 Oct 06 - 11:01 AM

In the land of (insert name of favourite catalogue) ??

I've got a little striped OshKosh B'Gosh teddy in my collection. I'd admired him & his fellows in their verey trendy (ie. expensive) window but couldn't even think of spending a fortune on a piece of babies' clothing just to get the FREE teddy. Besides I don't know any baby who needs designer gear, however cute it might be.

One day I saw the bear in my favourite charity shop for 50 cents, so did not hesitate to buy this free bear.

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 29 Oct 06 - 10:56 AM

It's a beautiful morning. We're having crisp, clear weather right now. My little Cairn terrier loves the frost-prickly grass and rubs her nose in the stubbly blades. When the snow comes, she'll be ready to tunnel.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 29 Oct 06 - 08:21 PM

Hey, Ebbie:

While we venture into other threads, it's always nice to drop by in here.

This Tuesday is Halloween... something that my only be celebrated in the U.S.A. (do they celebrate Halloween in Hawaii and Alaska?) All it would take is to move the date a few days and we could celebrate Halloween and vote on the same day. Think of the possibilities!!
I really love seeing all the kids come to the door... we get close to 100 every year. And, there are always a few dogs in costume, which really cracks me up. I've got to remember to pick up some doggie treats before Tuesday.

Three years ago, we had a group of folks from the Shellback Chorus from England spend Halloween with us, and it was my favorite Halloween of all. They had just finished up singing on tour and had a couple of extra days.

This coming weekend is NOMAD around here... we're only fifteen minutes from New Haven, where we're holding NOMAD now, and I can hardly wait. I hope that the attendance isn't down because of the conflict with the Getaway. It'll be good to see old friends, and make some new ones. I've been dusting off old songs for the workshop Songs From The Attic, that I'm doing with Barbara and Frank Shaw, and having a lot of fun. I must admit that I have to stumble my way through the songs a few times before all of the lyrics come back. I'm glad that we're doing the workshop, because some of the old songs should never be forgotten. Among others, I'm dusting off Three Nights Drunk, Old Man At The Mill, Lord Thomas and Fair Ellender, Penny's Farm and a couple of songs I wrote so many years ago that they almost seem tradtional to my ears.

It should be a great weekend. I know it will be a great one at the Getaway, too. Plenny a tales to tell next week.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: GUEST
Date: 30 Oct 06 - 06:08 PM

Hi Jerry
yes we celebrate "All Hallows Eve" in the UK followed by " All Saints Day" on Novenber 1st. Halloween and trick or treat is catching on here in a small way, however the fireworks fortnight is well under way...when I was young bonfire night on November 5th celebrated the Guy Fawkes conspiricy when they tried to blow up the English parliament, for one night we burnt the "Guy" on a bonfire had fireworks, potatoes in the fire, and a great party night, now it goes on for 2 weeks, fireworks started last night,glad I no longer have pets, at least when it was one night we could keep the dogs and cats in on the night , now they suffer for days
ran out of Danish, back to chocolate chip cookies
Wendy

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: GUEST,billybob
Date: 30 Oct 06 - 06:37 PM

OOOH Hello, that guest was me!what is going on... mind you I am a luddite at heart.I will try and find out where I have gone? Was it the chocolate chip "cookie" that did it?
Wendy

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: billybob
Date: 30 Oct 06 - 07:22 PM

ok, just found myself again,these computers really do stretch the mind of an aromatherapist But had a hot coffee and a cookie.Thank you.
Its late here, Billy is asleep,in front of the TV.

We have a long two days ahead of us, we are going to my first husbands funeral,a five hour drive then overnight in an hotel and the service the next day. I often wonder why in the UK we take so long? He died a week ago and it is a tiny country compared to The USA , yet it is often more than a week before the funeral
.
Sunday, my son and daughter with girlfriend and husband came for lunch with my parents and brother, and the beautiful granddaughter who slept and smiled through the day. That made the time go, and for my children , gave them a respite from the day to come.

I guess a mothers love is unconditional, how I wish I could protect them from sorrow and grief,and if I am honest, all the memories I have of 35 years ago?
However I will be in the hotel with Scarlett and look forward to her future and not think of the past.
Sorry folks,bit sad tonight, more coffee please,
Wendy

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ron Davies
Date: 30 Oct 06 - 07:26 PM

That's interesting. How about Halloween in the UK? Is it considered an American import--and therefore suspect? Is there a sense that Guy Fawkes Day traditions are under pressure?

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 30 Oct 06 - 08:08 PM

As Oz is a clone of the US we get (some) Halloween cards & thingies, & bits of Halloween celebrations around the place. Some kids dress up & trick or treat, tho not around my area!

I live in Sydney's "entertainment" area (ie - bars & strip clubs & drugs) with the greatest concentration of population in Oz - we have very few houses here, most residences are in 3 to 38 story blocks in our small area.

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 30 Oct 06 - 09:41 PM

Wendy, we be mysterious critters, aren't we. Baby yourself for awhile.


Jerry, I got your CD yesterday and I'm playing it for the third time today. It's going to be a favorite of mine.

Have to ask: Is it OK with you if I learn a few of the songs and teach them to my singing partner? I will always credit you.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 30 Oct 06 - 10:00 PM

Hey, Ebbie:

Thanks. I wrote the songs to be sung. Be my guest. It would please me greatly if you learned any of them.

Today in writing class our teacher read a short section from the book "Writing Down The Bones" by Natalie Goldberg. In it, the author was encouraging writers to write about every day objects and experiences. It is a good way to see. (I'm very big on learning to see.) Immediately after the commentary, she asked me what I had brought to class that I had just written. (She had asked me to write something relating to one of my songs, as she wanted to play a song from one of my CDs.) As it turned out, I had written about Old Blue Suit. How mundane can you get? I remember the first time that I sang that song, it was for Ed Trickett at a FOlk Legacy festival. We were just sitting around, playing stuff, and I did Old Blue Suit. Ed was really excited about it, which I found very mystifying. Sheesh! It's just about an old suit!! He dragged Gordon Bok and Annie Muir in to hear the song, and they ended up recording it on Annie's solo album for Folk Legacy. That song, and Handful Of Songs are the two most requested songs of all the ones that I've written. Handful Of Songs talks about my Grandfather's hammer and his old railroad watch with the casing all worn, and my Grandmother's bible. Truth is, we are awash in the ordinary. It's people we love who make them treasures to us.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 31 Oct 06 - 06:35 PM

Talkin' 'bout that dog! Where did that one come from?

By the way, 'Writing Down the Bones' is one of my favorites of Natalie Goldberg's.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 31 Oct 06 - 08:27 PM

I learned Tennessee Dog from an old recording that my friend Pat Conte taped for me. The record was done by a black prisoner. Not much market for selling dogs in prison.. Pat is playing the guitar track, with me on banjo. I miss the space to write notes that I had when I released lps. Guess I'd better do a couple of pages of comments to send along with the CDs.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: jimmyt
Date: 31 Oct 06 - 10:48 PM

Jerry, you are the master of taking the ordinary and making poetry from it!   You are da man!   jimmyt   ( and this is not even a hundred post)

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 31 Oct 06 - 10:51 PM

Hey, Jimmy:

Good to see you. Spent this evening thoroughly enjoying the trick or treaters for Halloween (a record 132 kids this year) and playing guitar. This Saturday afternoon, the Gospel Messengers and the a capella doo wop group: The Sentinels will be doing the Church and Street Corner Harmony workshop at NOMAD. Sure wish you could be there!

Maybe next year..

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Rapparee
Date: 01 Nov 06 - 10:35 PM

Someday I'll get out East and get to meet folks. Nowadays when I go East it's a family thing.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 01 Nov 06 - 10:53 PM

That would be great, Rap:

Last week, a cousin of mine who lives in Monterray (sp?) Came to visit us. I'd only seen him once (very briefly) since I was a teenager. And that was probably twenty years ago. When I saw him. Not when I was a teenager. His Partner (Do they call the Podnuh's) out your way, Rap?) has a daughter who lives a half an hour away from here, and they come out to visit her and their grandchildren a couple of times a tear, so it looks like we'll get to know them after all these years.

Talked to my sisters today and asked them about their remebrances of Christmas. I've been writing about mine... will excerpt some of them in here when I clean them up a little. Grammar, that is. My sister who is 4 years older than me pretty much remembers things the way that I do, but sister who is 5 years older has no remembraances of Christmas as a kid. That astonished me. How could you NOT remember what Christmas was like when you were a lid? She doesn't remember her childhood at all until High School. So, I'm telling her about her childhood.

Odd.

Tonight, I had practice with the Messengers and we dusted off No Room At The Inn: an old Mahalia Jackson song that I lead as if I was channeling Gene Vincent. We'll do it this weekend at NOMAD and as many times as we sing during the Christmas season. It's a great song. The last verse is:

   "The bellboy and the porter, the waitress and the cook
    Will be witnesses up in Heaven to all the things it took
    When she was turned away, and had no place to stay
    For there was no room, no room at the inn"

I think that it's great how a black gospel song can place an old story in contemporary surroundings, as if Joseph and Mary were trying to check in at a seedy hotel in Baltimore. Maybe driving an old Ford Pinto.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Elmer Fudd
Date: 02 Nov 06 - 01:19 AM

Howdy y'all. I just got back home after a wild adventure in the wild west. I was driving down that long, lonesome freeway, singing the blues along with the radio in the proverbial middle of nowhere--fields of fodder as far as the Fudd could follow--when the "check engine" light started blazing brightly in the darkness. Holy smokes! Should I pull over instantly--and me without a cell phone?--or should I take a chance and look for a call box or a town or something? An exit loomed. I rolled off the freeway just as the engine stalled and plumes of smoke rose dramatically from under the hood.

I found a phone booth and called a soothing voice at Roadside Assistance who in turn called a tow truck. What just happened to be driving off the same exit in search of a gas station but the very tow truck. The guy loaded up the smoking car and took us both to a garage.

The folks at the garage worked valiantly to save its life, but ultimately pronounced the car dead.

The owner offered me a lift home. That sounds like a nice gesture, right? "A lift home" entailed a three-hour drive! He absolutely insisted upon doing it, and waxed eloquent on the laws of karma, how all men are brothers, and the necessity of unconditional love for all human beings for the entire three hours. He treated the whole drive as a big, exciting adventure. He brushed away my many expressions of gratitude.

I feel stupified and stupid, and as if I have been in someone else's movie.

Please pass the coffee and a cinnamon roll.

Elmer

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 02 Nov 06 - 07:53 AM

I've have friends who drive me home, always out of their way, some only go a bit out of their way, others go a lot further out of their way.

None will accept petrol money, because as they all say, they are going that way (really, thru the CBD traffic????? surely not) and it's not out of the way, and they would be driving my way, anyway .....

There are a lot of lovely folks in this world.

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 02 Nov 06 - 09:38 AM

Glad to have you back, Elmer:

And not a minute to soon. The Wabbits are getting mighty bold around here. One came to the door on Halloween, dressed like a duck and asked for a carrot. The carrot really gave him away, although I must admit that I never hear a quack that sounded like that.

We set a record for kids on Halloween this year. We had 132 kids. Actually, we had 131 kids and one wabbit.

Welcome back.

You wascal, you!

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 03 Nov 06 - 09:33 PM

Slow times at the table:

These last few days have been reallll busy around here, so it's nice to just stop by for a while to see how everyone is doing. Tomnorrow is NOMAD, and I'm really looking forward to it. I imagine that between the Getaway and Nomad, the Cat is going to eb even slower than usual this weekend. Then, there'll be all sorts of threads talking about what a great time we had this weekend. The Getaway dwarfs NOMAD because it is so much larger, but both festivals are great fun. Maybe I'll have to check into NEFFA next year. Never been there.

I received an e-mail today that starting as of tomorrow, my Handful Of Songs CD will be on cdBaby. They're very generous about giving samples of the songs that are 2 minutes long. Most of my songs are less than three minhutes long, and they have posted samples of every song on the album, so it's possible to almost hear the whole album there. If you haven't heard my music, that's an easy way to hear what I sound like.

Hope everyone is doing fine. I realize that every-day demands make dropping by a little difficult at times (as it does for me.) But, it sure is nice to touch base every few days.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: billybob
Date: 05 Nov 06 - 12:41 PM

Hi folks,
back at the table. It s November 5th , Guy Fawlkes Day here at last, 2 weeks of fireworks should finish tonight,they seem bigger and louder every year.
Ebbie I am enjoying the baby, I looked after her in the hotel while Billy and my son and daughter went to my ex husbands funeral, Scarlett and I did well,I think she was humouring me a little, laughed when I threw the new diaper in the bin instead of the used one, and didnot complain when I struggled to get her dressed to go and see the family after the service.She slept for the five hours on the journey home , bless her heart.
On the Wednesday morning my son drove me into the Peak District National Park , we walked in the Goyt Valley by the resevoir and waterfalls, the trees were all red and orange in autumn glory. This is a part of England I am unfamiliar with, very beautiful.
Back home now we have suddenly gone into winter, we have been blessed with hot weather till last Tuesday, now we have cold days and frost in the mornings, winter coat and boots! Hot coffee, thanks.
Wendy

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 05 Nov 06 - 08:54 PM

Thanks for dropping by, Wendy. It's getting a little nippy here in Connecticut, too. Ruth and I are figuring out how to keep warm on on early morning walks. After the first five minutes of walking, your body heat takes over. It's finding that balance that keeps you warm enough those first five minutes but not sweating to death after.

We had a wonderful time at NOMAD, but I think I'll start a little thread on that in the music section. As so often happens, something went wrong, and made everything turn out even better.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Elmer Fudd
Date: 06 Nov 06 - 01:44 AM

Heya--welcome baaaccck. Just found a quote that I can't plug into any other thread (well, probably could, but not a thread that's in a safe neighborhood) so I'm-a gonna drop it here because it's just so cool:

You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do. --Anne Lamott

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Ebbie
Date: 06 Nov 06 - 01:53 AM

That's a great one, Elmer Fudd.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 06 Nov 06 - 05:33 AM

Too many noisy folks assume they have a direct line to God & forget if they are pointing at others they have 3 fingers pointing back at themselves.

I was playing Rick Fielding's 'Lifeline' yesterday & love the line from 'If Jesus was a Picker' - "Don't mess with that guy Swaggart; my instruction book is free"

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 06 Nov 06 - 06:56 AM

Great quote, Elmer: If you think God thinks the way you think, there's something wrong with you're thinking. I can't believe in a God that isn't smarter than me.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Carly
Date: 07 Nov 06 - 03:14 PM

Aaah, I'm finally home. The Getaway was lovely, I had a terrific time, but I'll be glad to sleep in my own bed tonight. Much as I enjoy the adventures in my life, it seems as though at heart I am a real homebody; it feels good to be home. Tea, anyone?

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 08 Nov 06 - 10:43 AM

So, what did the Junco say to the Robin? (this is for North America Catters.) "What you doin', still here!"

In the northern part of the U.S., the first Robin is considered a sign of Spring. (The American Robin isn't anything like the English robin, by the way.) The Robin has even been immortalized in song "When the red, red Robin comes bob bob bobbin' along." The Junco is a northern North America bird and migrates south as winter approaches. That's given the Junco the nickname,
"Snow Bird." Anne Murray had a hit song about a Snowbird (She's Canadian..)

Check out time for the Robins is about now, and they're gathering in flocks, here in Connecticut, preparing for their flight south. Yesterday, I saw some newly arrived Juncos feeding on the same lawn as a flock of Robins, and I wondered what their conversation would be like.

Next Spring, the Robins will be back... usually before the last snow fall. You'll see them shivering in the hedge rows, looking for an overlooked barberry. Robins eat worms, and there aren't many worms avaiable, with snow on the ground. The Juncos haven't left yet, so there is another conversation that goes on in the Spring.

When both birds are around, you can expect just about any kind of weather. We haven't had any snow yet, and probably won't for awhile. But, when I see snowbirds at the feeder, I know it's not far away.

How you people doing up there in Maine? You must have seen the snow birds weeks ago, as they work their way down from Canada.

Just remember, everywhere is south of something.

Except for the South pole.

Jerry

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: GUEST
Date: 08 Nov 06 - 11:56 AM

Hi Jerry
we had the most beautiful woodpecker in the garden on Sunday morning , very pale green with a bright red head,he came up very close to the house till he was chased off by a squirrel, we have also had Jays in the oak tree.
Weather yesterday was foggy and today very grey and chilly, my pet hate is the dark evenings, it gets dark around 4 now we have put the clocks back, I hate going home from the salon in the dark and walking into a dark house, roll on summer and long evenings in the garden with a glass of chilled wine.Hot chocolate tonight with marshmallows!
Wendy

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Elmer Fudd
Date: 08 Nov 06 - 06:31 PM

It was 94 degrees here today! Three woodpeckers were outside the kitchen window--I love the chirrruping sound they make. However, the most unusual visitor from the animal kingdom was a cat with lovely big, black-and-white splotches. She appeared in the front yard and made a beeline for my feet. She proceeded to roll all over them, scent-marking my toes and ankles by head-butting them. It took a long time to walk back to the house. The cat made a dive for the door and inspected the entire house (not that there's much to inspect), meowing and escaping my grasp at every turn. She looked to be well cared-for and not a stray. I finally grabbed her and carried her, purring ferociously, to the door. As soon as I plunked her down she tore between my legs and back into the house. I finally left the front door open and let her have the run of the place until she satisfied her curiosity and left in her own good time and on her own four feet.

Elmer

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Tootler
Date: 08 Nov 06 - 07:30 PM

Elmer, you need to realise that cats do just exactly as they please. We have two and believe me, they just do exactly as they please.

Change of subject

I was driving up to Newcastle last Saturday when I saw a kestrel stoop for prey on the median strip of the road. You quite often see kestrels hovering above roads here, but it was the first time I had seen one actually dive. I don't think it was successful, but it was certainly quite exciting to see. Unfortunately at 70mph, you can't take your eyes off the road for too long so I couldn't follow it after it flew up again.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 08 Nov 06 - 07:46 PM

All I could hear was it muttering "Damn" under it's breath, as it flew away.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Elmer Fudd
Date: 08 Nov 06 - 10:09 PM

My most vivid memory of robins is of a flock who would annually appear to get plastered on the rotting pyracanthra (sp?) berries in front of my parents' house. They would fly around in wild swoops and dives, chirping madly, and occasionally they would take unsteady aim at the living room, only to loudly bonk their heads on the picture window that lay between them and their goal. The birds seemed to survive their head-on collisions with the window, and it was a hoot to watch them.

Happened every single year.

Elmer.

Subject: RE: BS: Sitting At The Kitchen Table
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 09 Nov 06 - 08:44 AM

Still writing, and as we are approaching the season, I thought that I'd post this. I wouldn't be comfortable posting this in the wilds of Mudcat, because it might be offensvie to those who think that any expression of faith is a judgment of others. But, this is the kitchen table and hopefully we can all relax and just be who we are. That's the way it is at our house where we have Atheists, Agnostics, Catholics, Baptists and Muslims gathered around the table together for Christmas.

T'was The Night Before Christmas

"T'was the night before Christmas" and we'd already opened our presents. Forget the dancing sugar plums. If you ever wondered how Santa Clause could deliver presents to all the kids on earth in one night, he got a running start by bringing all the kids in the Midwest their presents early on Christmas Eve. In our house, Christmas Eve started the minute we finished wolfing down our supper. It was the one time of year when I was thankful that we had supper at 4 o'clock.

Before I was school age, Santa came to our house every Christmas Eve. He didn't come down the chimney. If he had, he'd end up in our coal furnace and it wouldn't just be his suit that was red. He boldly walked through our front door. Not that I'd ever really seen him come into the house. But my Dad did.

After supper, Dad would hide behind the living room davenport, and Mom would herd my sisters and I down onto the basement stairs and then close the door behind us. For some unknown reason, Dad always got to hide behind the davenport, so that he could see Santa Clause when he came in. As soon as the basement door was closed, Dad would quietly sidle out from behind the davenport and tiptoe across the room and into the bedroom where our presents were carefully hidden in our one closet. He'd quickly carry them into the living room and place them haphazardly under the Christmas tree. When the presents were all under the tree he would tiptoe across the living room floor and into the dining room and careflly open the front door. With a sigh of relief, he would softly stroll out to the front of the porch and pause for a moment. Coming back into the hourse, Dad was Santa Clause. No need for a suit or a cotton-ball beard. The only one who could see him was him. As he came striding across the front porch, he'd stompthe non-existent snow off of his non-=existent boots and when he opened the front door he'd call out a "Ho!,Ho!,Ho!" in his best Santa-voice. Once inside the house he'd make a lot of fuss in the living room, as if he was unloading presents from his sack. All the time, I was hunched breathlessly behind the basement door, visualizing every move. When the presents were in place, Santa didn't have to stop and eat a plate full of cookies and drink a glass of milk on the way out. We never left anything for him. We didn't want Santa to stick around, once he'd delivered our presents. Besides, he would preferred a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, but that would have blown his cover. As Dad headed noisily out the front door he'd call over his shoulder, "Ho!, Ho!, Ho!, and a Merry Christmas t all! and stomp his way across the front porch only to once again pause there. Then, it was a matter of sneaking back into the house without our hearing him so that he could hide behind the davenport. Mom always gave him enough time by telling us that we couldn't come out until we were sure he was gone, or we'd scotch the whole deal."

Continued