Summer Stock Sunday - Nearly There

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Amidst all the craziness that is studying for my exam (this Monday - I'm as ready as I can be, but still, aack!) I still managed a bit of fun here and there. The fact that I was double-booked for this past Thursday evening just added to the craziness. We first attended this:

Maya's final dance recital  
(Yes, a full month after school let out and all the other activities were long over, just one more reason why she will not be returning to this dance school next year. On the bright side, at least they didn't LOSE my child and not even freaking notice(!) this time - and yes, that's the main reason she will not be returning.)

And then the second Maya's group left the stage (leaving my incredibly wonderful neighbor and my son to collect Maya and bring her home where a sitter was waiting, no, don't worry about her, she gave the plan her blessing and she LOVES having sitters, so much so that I kind of worry what they're letting her get away with...) we raced out of the theater and back to our car so that we could race through Tel Aviv to the National Stadium to be on time for this:

So what did you all get up to this week?

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Not just talking the talk

When Jay and I found ourselves unexpectedly kid-free yesterday we jumped on the opportunity to escape from the demands of the week (Maya's party was a big success by the way, but exhausting) and run down to Beersheva, about an hour south of us, for an all-day folk music festival organized by a friend of ours at Ashan Hazman, a very cool little bookstore/coffeeshop on a quiet little street on the outskirts of this desert city. (Jeez, she doesn't blog for a week and then she squeezes an entire post into one sentence...) It was a really nice day, full of great music, good friends and fresh air.

Ashan Hazman (literally, The Smoke of Time. I'm guessing this is like the English expression "the sands of time". Any Israelis out there want to confirm?)

Right next door to Ashan Hazman something else really interesting is going on too - a group of local residents with a passion for saving the planet one neighborhood at a time have created the "Center for Neighborhood Existence" with a community garden, recycling bins for all kinds of different materials,shared composting facilities (sorted by type of refuse, signs in both Hebrew and Russian, no meat please and be sure to cover your contribution with dried leaves) and even a monthly free flea market.

Walking around looking at everything they're creating you just can't help but smile and feel that there is some hope yet for humanity. Not only could I not resist grabbing my camera, I was even invited to share the photos I took on their Facebook page (Hebrew only, or I'd share it with you).

Here, have a look so you can smile too.

See what I mean?

Let's call this one Ruby Tuesday too, this back to work thing is really wreaking havoc on my blogging! I'm working flat out on a project at the moment - going in to the office and everything, I miss my days of working from home terribly!
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My photography is available for purchase - visit Around the Island Photography and bring home something beautiful today!

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If the photo you're wishing for is something you've seen here on the blog which isn't in my etsy shop yet just let me know and I'll happily list it for you.

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You know you've been a folkie* a long time when...

Folkie = someone who listens to / plays folk music. This guy was the "mascot" of the Prescott Park Folk Festival in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. It was a riot, they kept moving him around all day long, positioning him in all sorts of different places doing different things. I love a festival organizer with a sense of humor, don't you?

More flashes of red can be seen over at Work of the Poet, where it's Ruby Tuesday time again.

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My photography is available for purchase - visit Around the Island Photography and bring home something beautiful today!

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If the photo you're wishing for is something you've seen here on the blog which isn't in my etsy shop yet just let me know and I'll happily list it for you.

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A wildflower bouquet

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Israel is in its glory in winter and spring as the winter rains bring forth a riot of color from formerly brown dry fields. Hard to imagine that this field on a moshav not far from me was ever brown and dry, isn't it?
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Looking at this kaleidoscope of nature's bounty I couldn't help but want to take it home, a wildflower bouquet* of my own.

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Look here for more Ruby Tuesday shots from around the world.

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* Listen to track 8. And then go listen to all the rest of them too. Better yet, download the whole album to have for your very own.

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My photography is now available for purchase - visit Around the Island Photography and bring home something beautiful today!

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If the photo you're wishing for is something you've seen here on the blog which isn't in my etsy shop yet just let me know and I'll happily list it for you.

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From a distance, the world looks blue and green

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I took this last summer out the window of my father's airplane as we traveled to visit my beloved and much missed aunt for what I knew would be the last time. She's been on my mind a great deal lately as the family prepares for both my cousin's wedding and the first anniversary of her death, with no small amount of accompanying drama.
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This photograph, together with the song, helped me to see beyond the current friction and emotion to the greater picture. My aunt would have loved this shot, I wish she could have seen it, though not nearly as much as I wish she were here to see her son walk down the aisle. Perhaps somehow, in some way, she will. From a distance.
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I'm offering this image for both this week's Window Views and Thematic Photographic's distance theme (as well as last week's aviation theme, which I was too distracted to get in on, so I might as well go for the trifecta now). It obviously struck a very deep chord in me, I hope it strikes one in you as well.
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As a minor aside, I would very much have liked to give credit where it is due and show you a clip of Julie Gold singing her wonderful song herself but I couldn't find one so I went with the much more well known Bette Midler cover. If you do ever get the chance to hear the original on the Four Bitchin' Babes' Buy Me Take Me Don't Mess My Hair album it's well worth the listen, she's got a gorgeous voice (you can hear a tiny clip on the page above, barely enough to whet your appetite).
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Through the tarp

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This peekaboo look at the sky through two contrasting tarps really appeals to me. Sort of like a sneaky little window to the sky.
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Taken while sitting out on the grass last Friday listening to some great acoustic rock.

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And now for an important announcement:

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*drumroll please*

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I'm delighted to announce the upcoming launch of

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Each Sunday, beginning 31 May, Around the Island will be hosting a brand new summer photo project and you're invited!

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Share your barbecues, your beaches, your cannonballing kids, that island sunset, an old pair of flip flops, anything that says summer to you.

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We'll be playing each week all summer long - the linkie will go up each Saturday night at midnight Israel time (5pm EST) so keep those cameras handy and start grabbing those quintessential summer shots.

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See you on the 31st for

Summer Stock Sunday!

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Festival roundup

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We're back after another great festival weekend. The music was great, and now that the kids are getting older we're able to actually sit and listen to more and more of it, even the weather mainly cooperated. It was a lot cooler than it's been most years, which was great during the day (even if it did mean that a quick ten minute dip in the pool was more than enough). Nights got a bit, umm, brisk, which would have been fine if I'd been dressed appropriately, but after so many hot years it didn't occur to me to throw in a few extra warm clothes. The kids were fine but I froze my ass off. Oops. Especially at an outdoor bluegrass jam that went on until 3am until Jay took pity on me and brought out a sleeping bag for me to wrap myself up in. (One of the headlining bands was apparently still jetlagged after flying in from Canada, not to mention apparently quite sloshed after finishing their official set, which led to all sorts of late night hilarity, not to mention some really amazing bluegrass licks.)

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Yes, we did stay up until all hours for lots of late night jamming. Both nights. And yes, between the tent and the kids we did have to get up way too early. Both mornings. I think I got a grand total of 8.5 hours sleep all weekend, but it was worth it. (And no, the children didn't stay up that late. As they do every year they fell asleep in their sleeping bags on the lawn and were then carried back to the tent later. Dang they're getting heavy though. The second night we made Itai walk so that Jay could carry Maya after I nearly crippled myself carrying her all the way back the night before. I think next year she'll be walking back as well.

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Home sweet home

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A look around the neighborhood

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No, even Israeli camping isn't usually this crowded - the festival is held on the grounds of a hotel. Some people do stay in the hotel (not us now that both kids are old enough to warrant exhorbitant additional costs - we're back to camping for the foreseeable future) but most camp - everywhere. It's a bit like a tent city, but it's an amazingly calm and happy tent city with a fabulous vibe and hundreds of your nearest and dearest friends around. Of course it helps that we know enough people there that I can always scam a hot shower from someone staying in the hotel. That doesn't hurt at all.

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It's such an amazingly vibrant and colorful event, but I was too busy enjoying the music (and going to all the various children's activities with my kids, well really with my daughter, my son is old enough to go off on his own with his friends) to do much shooting. I'd considered leaving my camera home this year but since I felt queasy every time I thought about not having it I did end up bringing it, only to leave it in the tent most of the time. I think next year it's time to concede to the inevitable and just leave it home and enjoy the festival.

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Heading for the hills

It's festival time again. We're off this (Thursday) afternoon, back Saturday night.

Have a great weekend everyone. May your skies be blue, may your air mattresses not leak (oh wait, that's my wish), and may your music always be in tune.

Firewood anyone?

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This week's theme for Thematic Photographic over at Carmi's place is musical. While I have dozens of shots of musicians performing, including some I really love, I don't publish photographs of others without their express permission so they will have to continue to languish away in my archives in silence. (Not exactly. In fact I've uploaded most of them to some private online albums available to the performers and members of our folk music community here in Israel, but I don't feel right publishing them indiscriminately on my blog.)
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Disclaimer aside, that left me with a few shots of either members of my own family, or else instruments set down on the sidelines. The original shot of these banjos was too golden for my taste thanks to some weird lighting inside the performance tent, and the highlights were a bit blown, so I started playing around and ended up with the stylized shot (enlarge to get the full effect) you see above. I kind of like it, it's got a sort of gritty feel that appeals to me.
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If you're wondering about the title, I should be commended for not sharing any of the 4,762 banjo jokes which immediately sprang to mind when I pulled up this shot...
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Dan Fogelberg's Retrospective Interview - Virtual Blog Tour

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I've been a fan of Dan Fogelberg's music ever since Leader of the Band first made me cry so many years ago, so it's a real treat for me to have been asked to review the new compilation CD Dan Fogelberg: A Retrospective Interview as part of Promo 101's virtual blog tour.
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Dan left us at the much too young age of 56 on December 16th, 2007 after losing his battle against prostate cancer. After his death Fred Migliore, the host of the FM Odyssey radio show, compiled this 2-CD set from an interview he conducted with Dan in 1997, where they spoke about Dan's many years in the music business. The Retrospective CD contains 13 full-length songs as well as a lot of the stories and thoughts behind them.
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The way the interviews and the music flow together it's almost as if Dan were sitting right there in your living room with you, talking and playing on into the night, letting his reminiscing guide the way through a virtual house concert.
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What makes Dan's music, and this CD, so special?

I think it's part of Dan's magic that he was able to do things like turn something as minor as a chance meeting with an old flame in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store into a song that touched millions, making them both smile and cry at memories of times long past and roads not taken. Or perhaps it was the way his heartfelt vocals and soft acoustic guitar chords bypass your mind, heading straight into your heart, into your very blood.
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There are so many favorites on this album - Same Old Lang Syne, Run for the Roses, Rhythm of the Rain (YouTube clip from an appearance on the Carson Show, and so much richer than the original Cascades version from 1962), but just as it did so many years ago, it's still the Leader of the Band that makes my breath catch in my throat. Listen for yourself and see what I mean:

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Retrospective, available from the FM Odyssey Store, would be a great addition to the collection of anyone who loves Dan Fogelberg, easy listening, or just beautiful ballads and sweet sweet guitar. Even better, $3 from each sale will be donated to the Prostate Cancer Foundation in Dan's name, so that perhaps someday we won't have to lose so many to this terrible disease.
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If you too treasure the gift that Dan Fogelberg left us as his own legacy be sure to leave a comment here - the promoters have told me that there are about 45 minutes of “lost segments” from the CD which have never been likely never will be released to the public, but each person that posts a comment on this or any other participating blog during the virtual blog tour will be entered in a drawing to win a free copy of this one-of-a-kind CD with the remainder of the interview! In addition to the random drawing winners, the most unique, insightful, special comment will also be chosen to win a copy, so be sure to warm up your typing fingers!
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Playin', playin' in the band

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A Dixieland band that is.
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One of the more tongue in cheek traditions of this annual musical retreat is the Brass Band Ensemble. What is so tongue in cheek about a brass band class you might ask? (After you got over asking yourself why they have a brass band class at a folk music weekend in the first place, and the answer to that is I don't have the faintest idea. It's more than a bit odd.)
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What makes this particular brass class unique is its musicians. To attend, you must NOT actually know how to play any brass instrument. Only those who've never touched an instrument (or at least not since last year's class) can participate. Personally I sit it out but my son Itai, the eight year old trumpet virtuoso you see in the photo above, loves it. He positively flew back from lunch so as not to miss even a minute of instruction. The guy who runs it has a large assortment of old beat up brass instruments which he passes out to whoever wants to publicly humiliate themselves perform with the band in that evening's concert. They spend about an hour learning, sort of, how to actually play a note, or in a good year two, and then a few hours later they make their big debut. Shockingly, the sounds they made this year were actually (almost) recognizable as a song. I wouldn't go so far as to say music, but it did bear faint resemblance to a song.
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The whole thing is a scream, though I think seeing them all come out in costume is the high point of the performance...
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Visit Sepia Scenes for more of that old time music religion photography.
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It just doesn't get much better than this

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We're back from our weekend down in Ein Gedi, where we celebrated music and life in general on a beautiful deck overlooking the shockingly blue water of the Dead Sea (it really is a shocking deep blue, with a color that rich it seems almost scandalous that it is not in fact refreshingly sweet clear water) and looking across at the mountains of Jordan.

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(Notice the tent is "staked" to the benches - necessity being the mother of invention and all that)

It was a weekend where everything just seems to come together perfectly - good friends both old and new, good music, campfire singalongs that go on until the wee hours of the morning... A weekend so wonderful that minor annoyances like missing breakfasts just seemed to work themselves out almost of their own accord.

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The days were hot and sunny, with temperatures up into the eighties - perfect for exploring Ein Gedi's magical waterfalls and lazing around in the sun too.

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We even had a few encounters of the small and furry kind. We didn't get close to the ibex this time (turns out they were right by the entrance to the kibbutz where we were staying, but we weren't able to pull over quickly), but we got a real kick out of this little guy that we found along the trail. He's a rock hyrex and cute as a button.
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Don't ask about the nights, it was the desert after all. We froze our proverbial patooties off, and after a windstorm blew through the second afternoon and nearly collapsed our tent with Maya inside it we decided it would be prudent to move it - so the second night we actually camped INSIDE a giant quonset hut right by the indoor stage. It worked out perfectly - the first night we were outside just a few feet from the main stage, and the second night the kids were able to go inside to bed out of the cold while the adults made a racket outside, and then by the time the cold chased us inside as well they were sound asleep and not bothered by the music being played just a few feet away.
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Heck, they even made some music of their own before heading off to bed. Yes, my kids actually got up on stage and performed in front of about ninety people. They practiced for two days before making their big debut. Itai sang the theme song from their favorite cartoon (Huntik) while Maya danced. (They'd originally both planned to sing, but he managed to convince her that the act needed a dancer. They were by far the youngest performers there and they brought the (albeit quite indulgent) house down.)
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All in all a wonderful weekend. We can't wait to do it again. Stop by during the week for more photos and stories from desert adventure, or better yet, join us next year.
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(Yes, I realize there are no photos of the actual performances here. I didn't want to put anyone's pictures up on the internet without their permission. Rest assured I've got lots.)
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Painted Tile

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I tried for a while to think of a more lyrical title for this post. Painted tile is so utilitarian. It may be completely true, but it's boring, uncreative. Someone out there somewhere got creative and decided that to make their metal gate more interesting by the addition of this hand-painted tile, you'd think I could at least think of a more interesting title.

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Truly I should have insisted to myself on a more lyrical title because tonight my soul is filled to the brim with music, my spirit enriched by an evening spent listening to dear friends weave wonderful harmonies (some in four parts!) in and out of the delicate chords of acoustic guitars, a mandolin, and even a dulcimer. It just doesn't get any better than an evening like this - songs ranging from traditional ballads to tearjerkers from the 60's and 70's to gospel and blues classics to newly-written lyrics and a capella vocals which practically reach out and force your mouth to smile and your body to sway with the rhythm. I am in awe of the gift these people possess, the ability to call down the sounds of the angels and share them with us. Since I am sadly unpossessed of this gift myself, I can only wish that with my camera I can one day reach out to a spot in someone else's soul that seeks the nurturing touch of art and brighten a passing moment in their own lives as music has tonight brightened mine.

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Dona Nobis Pacem

Dona nobis pacem - grant us peace.

A noble sentiment to be sure, but is it really what we should be focusing on? Should we really be sitting still waiting for this elusive peace to be granted to us, or should we be reaching forward, inch by inch, day by day, stretching out our fingertips until we can take hold of it and clasp it tightly to our breast?

Today of all days, when the world is still reeling with joyful tears and the belief that a new day is dawning, we need to stand up and be counted.

Peace does not come to those who do nothing. It doesn't come to those who sit home waiting for others to act. It doesn't come to those who dwell on hatred and fear. It doesn't come to those who look for differences instead of commonalities.

Our words, our actions, our trust, our belief can set us on the road to peace. It is not an easy road. There are many who seek to prevent us from reaching the end, but there is safety in numbers. There is hope in numbers. There is ABILITY in numbers.

Together we can make it happen. Together we can show the naysayers and the non-believers that it can be done. Together, we MUST make it happen. For us. For our children. For our neighbors. For their children. For ALL the children.

YES WE CAN.

Don't wait for peace to be granted. Put aside your doubts and fears and reach out and make it so.

Peace will come, and let it begin with me.

Come with us. Join the Blog Blast for Peace. Do it now.

Peace Will Come
Words and Music by Tom Paxton

Peace
Peace will
Peace will come
And let it begin with me

We
We need
We need peace
And let it begin with me

Oh, my own life is all I can hope to control.
Oh, let my life be lived for the good,
Good of my soul.

Let it bring
Peace
Sweet peace
Peace will come
And let it begin with me.

Click here to listen to a short clip from Tom Paxton's Peace Will Come.

Nostalgia

(To give you fair warning I'm feeling quite introspective and self-indulgent today. If you have a low tolerance for crap you're probably better off skipping this one.)

It's so trite as to be almost embarrassing. It's one thing to let a song take you back, but to be totally blown away by the radio's latest must-play hit? That's never been me. I'm not a top-40 kind of girl. I'm all about classic rock, folk music, the Grateful Dead, music with history, a sense of place and time. But there I was, minding my own business, listening to my car radio (thank god Maya is finally outgrowing her insistence on children's music All! The! Time!) and Kid Rock's (Kid Rock's. Good lord.) All Summer Long came on.

I sat there in the car listening to the words, and they just blew me away. Not because they were so meaningful, or lyrical, or poetic. They're really not. But they were singing my own past back to me. The details are a bit different, I grew up far from Northern Michigan and its lake, I've never even seen a walleye, let alone caught one, and the song was more likely to be Stairway to Heaven than Sweet Home Alabama, but it was my life. My history.

I started laughing when I heard the chorus, remembering how we too spent our days, and our nights, doing the same things, with the long-haired guys and the girls in skimpy bikinis (oh to be that thin again) drinking that Jack Daniels straight out of the bottle that my best friend used to hide in the back of her closet. And all the rest. Yeah, that too. We weren't hard-core delinquents, at least not most of us, but we did know how to teeter right on the edge of the line, sometimes falling one way and sometimes the other. We had the world by the tail. We were so arrogant. We were so clueless. We may not have been half of what we thought we were, or known half of what we thought we did, but damn, we did have a good time. It was a hell of a ride.

Nostalgia is a powerful force. It dulls the edges. Wipes out the hard times. The tears. The fear. Of course it wasn't all good, but that's the thing about time. It softens things. Hides things. Makes you forget. You lose touch with people you once cared deeply about and persuade yourself that it doesn't matter.

It does matter though. It isn't life or death, but it is an anchor. An anchor to who you used to be. I haven't been that rebellious teenage girl in a very long time, such an incredibly long time, but she's still in there somewhere, still a part of me. The shit she pulled, the trouble she got in (or avoided - I was pretty good at the avoidance part), they all combined to form one of the basic building blocks of Robin. Of who I am today, far removed though it seems from the Robin that was.

As I sat there listening, and remembering, I began to think about M, my best friend all through junior high and high school. The one I'd swap bras with (before she got boobs and I didn't, and yes, it does seem gross now, but we were 13 and didn't always remember to wear one when we were going out), the one I'd double-date with, and sneak out of the house at 2am with (M, if you're out there, remember Officer Cole's hat?). The one who was right there with me as I was "tryin' different things" and who was still there to pick up the broken pieces of the ones that didn't work. The one who didn't stop me as I left to go on a date in my slippers - because she too was walking out right next to me in hers! The Be Fri to my st ends. (See, I told you this was going to be a lot of self-indulgent and overly sugary crap. Can't say I didn't warn you.)

M and I went different ways many years ago, and as tends to happen we lost touch. I'd think about her sometimes and wonder where she was, but her mother had moved away and M was living off the grid somewhere in Vermont, ungoogleable except for an outdated reference to Semester at Sea (her, not me). Still, I'd try on occasion as the years went by, but I never found her, and the few other friends I'd kept in loose touch with had no news either.

As I sat there the other day listening to Kid Rock (oh god, there he is again, I sound like a starstruck 14 year old) sing about the good old days I started thinking about her again, about everyone from back then, and decided it was time for my biannual attempt at googling. Except this time, I got a hit. Her name was right there in black and white. She had a Facebook account. I promptly shoved my principles back onto a high shelf (I'd deleted my Facebook account when they'd forbid pictures of nursing mothers - see the Great Virtual Breast Fest button in my sidebar) and signed up for an account, and two minutes later there she was. We've just gotten back in touch now, and haven't really had a chance to talk yet, but we will, and it's good to be back. It feels good to be back.

You can't go home again, but sometimes it's awfully nice to visit.

A visual festival tour

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Jay and I spent Saturday at Forest Jam, a fun little music festival up in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. The festival pitched itself as featuring regional jam, rock and acoustic music in a low-key, non-commercial, environmentally friendly setting. We hadn't heard of any of the bands playing but it sounded good so off we went. It turned out to be a really nice little festival - not too many attendees but great music, heavy on Grateful Dead cover bands and other deadheady type music, with occasional forays into bluegrass and more bluesy stuff. As someone who spent most of her teenage years following the Dead up and down the east coast it was like coming home again, but twenty years younger. I was a bit taken aback to realize that I'd been to my first Dead show before a lot of the attendees were born, but there were enough old fogies around to keep us feeling in our element. It was a great step outside of time, and the perfect end to our little mini-vacation.

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Here are a few visual snippets so you can see for yourselves.

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Stranger's Vibe on the main stage - these guys were giving away copies of their very cool cd (I am loving this free cd as promo trend)

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Festival life:

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Environmental canvassers hard at work
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Check out the guy with the sphere - he was amazing! And yes, he is wearing a skirt utilikilt. No, I don't know why. No, he wasn't alone - I saw another guy wearing one too.

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Craft booths

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Jay hanging out in our chairs next to the sound guys (for Janet who says I never show any pictures of my husband)

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And for everyone back home in Israel, here's proof that festival food doesn't have to be inedible. Even the iced coffee was fresh-brewed and made to order!

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This post is already insanely long so I won't subject you to any more photos tonight, but come back tomorrow for some shots of the festival's beautiful setting on a wooded riverbank.

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Find the connection

What do Mrs. Brown, an English monarch, milk (or lack thereof), a tailor, Suzie Q and Mary-Ann all have in common?

Any idea?

Still nothing?

Not yet?

Come on, the oldsters among you have a better chance with this one. Think hard, you can get it.

Well, first we heard this and this, and then later this and this (but with them), and then saw this who did this, but we never did hear this*.

For those of you whose musical tastes are not older than dirt and who are now completely bewildered, I went tonight to go see Herman's Hermits and The Animals in concert, and they ROCKED! I hadn't seen Herman's Hermits since 1987 (and that was a reunion tour back then!) and had never seen the Animals. They were only playing ONE date in Israel in a city quite far away but I managed to find a few friends to go with and off we went to spend the night cheering, singing along, and hooting like schoolkids. It was a fabulous trip down memory lane to the days of my misspent youth.

And now, since it's 2:39 in the morning, I'm off to bed. I'm not nearly as young as I was the last time I saw these guys and morning is going to come much too soon.

*I suspect it was being saved for a final group encore but since it was already 1am and we had an hour+ drive home the woman driving decided to leave during the final set. What idiots put the weakest band (The Marmalade) on last anyway? At least that way we didn't feel like we missed anything (other than the encore and this fab song) by leaving a few minutes early.

And that's a wrap

Another year, another festival. This one though was one of the best we've had in years. The music was fantastic, the addition of a whole extra day made the entire festival feel more relaxed and less rushed, the kids were wonderful, the weather was perfect, literally dozens of dear friends were there, the pool was cool and refreshing (and Itai even remembered how to swim), even the camping went off without a hitch. Better than just without a hitch actually. It went so well that Maya and I will be joining the boys (Jay, Itai and a few other fathers and sons) for a Lag B'Omer campout on the beach this Thursday night after all.

Have I mentioned that the kids were terrific? Itai is now old enough to wander around freely with his friends (something only possible at a closed, extraordinarily safe and family-friendly festival like this one - I know that must sound appalling to some of you out there, but trust me, Jacob's Ladder is truly a land unto itself. I'd never let him wander alone at any other event.) Itai also had his first celebrity crush on a group of young bluegrass musicians. He bought their cd with his own money and came home clutching not one but two different autographed photos. Maya is still a bit young to sit still for the more formal indoor performances, so we mainly stuck to the outdoor stages (where most of the music is anyway) and she alternated between sitting on the side blowing bubbles and playing quietly at our feet. (The addition of a well-timed ice cream or two didn't hurt either.) For the first time in years Jay and I actually came away feeling like we'd heard a lot of music rather than that we'd spent most of our time kid-wrangling.

Times like this are what make it all worthwhile. They make the stresses of daily life (and we've got some whoppers right now) fade away for a few days and give us the chance to just be. To do what we love with people with love.

Who could ask for more?

No TT for me this week - we're off to the festival!

We're leaving this afternoon (Thursday) for our annual pilgrimage to the Jacob's Ladder Folk Festival and to top it off thanks to the overwhelming greed of the onsite hotel now that our kids are old enough we're back to camping this year.

Two nights and two days of great music, friends, fun in the sun, and loads more great music, capped off by two nights in a tent. Wish us luck, we haven't camped at the festival since before we had kids! In fact, we've only camped one night since, when Maya was only 1.5, and it, umm, didn't go well. Now that she's 3 years older it should be a different story. We hope...

Be back Saturday night. Have a great weekend everyone.

TT - Concerts I Went to in the 80's

Since my girlfriends and I just got back from seeing Joe Jackson tonight (Wednesday) what better topic could there be for this week's list. How many of these do you remember?

1. Yes - my very first "real" concert
2. Rush
3. Grateful Dead - up and down the east coast, too many times to count
4. Tom Petty
5. Bob Dylan - several times
6. Billy Joel
7. America
8. Meat Loaf - 3 times
9. Huey Lewis and the News
10. The Turtles - reunion tour
11. Whitesnake
12. The Monkees - reunion tour
13. Bruce Hornsby and the Range

There were probably more that I've forgotten. It was a lot easier to go to shows when you didn't have to spend your paycheck on things like a mortgage or electricity. Not to mention babysitters LOL.

Visit the Thursday Thirteen hub to see what everyone else is counting this week.