I ran in to get some girl stuff on the way to the train station. There was music coming from a boombox that was on display. I asked the clerk if it was a CD, and she told me she was listening to JACK-FM, one of the local stations that plays classic rock with no requests and no repeats. Their motto is “we play what WE like”. Which is usually a little rowdier than I care to listen to, but this morning they were playing the dear, late Mr. Vaughan. To whom I have come a little late in the day.
I remember one Monday night when Family Home Evening was a trip with LittleBit to the local guitar store so she could drool over the bass guitar that she wanted. [And presumably still wants.] I turned her loose in that section of the store and sat, mesmerized, by a TV that was playing an old “Austin City Limits”. And there he was, playing guitar with a passion that I normally associate with flamenco and not the blues.
No pictures today. But I finished BittyBubba’s birthday present on my afternoon break.
I would have posted earlier today, but Yahoo was not cooperating. Since I am officially off the company dollar, as of three minutes ago, I am hitting “publish” now.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!