Saturday Sound Track—Wildwood Flower

I learned to play this old Carter family song years ago when I found it in a book in my mother's piano bench. The lyrics are mournful, as you might expect from folk songs of that day, the predecessors to the more current you-shot-my-dog country lyrics. The original lyrics were more refined, but the Carters customized and made it work for them.

Listen here.

And sing along here:

WILDWOOD FLOWER
As recorded by The Carter Family
Written by Maud Irving, 1860

CAPO: 2nd Fret/KEY: E/PLAY: D
[D] Oh, I'll twine with my mingles and [A7] waving black [D] hair
With the roses so red and the [A7] lilies so [D] fair
And the myrtle so [D7] bright with the [G] emerald [D] hue
The pale and the leader and [A7] eyes look like [D] blue.

Oh I'll dance, I will sing and my laugh shall be gay
I will charm every heart, in his crown I will sway
When I woke from my dreaming, my idol was clay
All portion of love had all flown away.

Oh he taught me to love him and promised to love
And to cherish me over all others above
How my heart is now wond'ring no mis'ry can tell
He's left me no warning, no words of farewell.

Oh, he taught me to love him and called me his flow'r
That was blooming to cheer him through life's dreary hour
Oh, I long to see him and regret the dark hour
He's gone and neglected this pale wildwood flow'r.

Cindy Loo Who In October

What is it with people and Cindy Loo Who? Of my last one hundred blog hits, forty have been direct visits from regular readers, and fifteen have been as a result of people searching for "Cindy Loo Who," the little pixie from Seuss's How The Grinch Stole Christmas . A couple of years ago, I posted an image of the original Seuss illustration as compared to the TV cartoon image, and for some reason, that post is bringing in the crowds, relatively. Maybe it's the weather. It isn't even November yet, and already we've had frost and have had to dust off our winter coats. When it gets cold like this, I start to think about Christmasy things like listening to Nat King Cole and decorating the tree. It's ironic because I am offended when retailers start pushing holiday stuff early, but I don't mind my own private celebrations. When my sister and I were much younger and still living with our parents, we would pick a day in July, close the curtains to darken the ...

I'm In the Paper Today

Here is an article in today's Small Town Newspaper.

The Ultimate Storyteller—in Life AND in Death

I wrote about The Autobiography of Mark Twain in yesterday's edition of Small Town Newspaper. You can read it here , if you want. This is the photograph I had in mind while I read Clemens' dictations. He really was a masterful storyteller, even when rambling on about the poorly designed door knobs in Florence or in describing the Countess Massiglia, who he described as a "pestiferous character." About her, he said, “She is excitable, malicious, malignant, vengeful, unforgiving, selfish, stingy, avaricious, coarse, vulgar, profane, obscene, a furious blusterer on the outside and at heart a coward.” And I laughed out loud.

Scout Moves

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