In the new moon of December, as the days grow short and cold, and the nights long and dark here in Iowa, I dream of Silver City, New Mexico. This photo is the pink house of which I sing, in "Missin' Your Kissin'. From the porch you could see the Kneeling Nun, copper mines and the Mimbres Range. Now, in my brick cottage on Ralston Creek -- a Baba Yaga house on chicken legs -- I am teaching my grandchildren how to holler "wha-hoo," on the upbeat when the fiddle comes in. It's an important job, and someone's gotta do it.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Blue sky, pink house, not a cloud in sight...
In the new moon of December, as the days grow short and cold, and the nights long and dark here in Iowa, I dream of Silver City, New Mexico. This photo is the pink house of which I sing, in "Missin' Your Kissin'. From the porch you could see the Kneeling Nun, copper mines and the Mimbres Range. Now, in my brick cottage on Ralston Creek -- a Baba Yaga house on chicken legs -- I am teaching my grandchildren how to holler "wha-hoo," on the upbeat when the fiddle comes in. It's an important job, and someone's gotta do it.
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