Pete Seeger

Peter Seeger died today at the age of 94. He had a long life and it made my heart feel good that he lived as long as he did. Of all the musicians I met in my life, he was among the best. I met him and his wife many years ago, through Ann and Frank Warner, who were friends of his. After living in Nashville and meeting many of my favorite musicians, I found to my dismay that the ones I liked best were usually the biggest jerks. Pete Seeger stood out from all the rest. His heart was pure, and the messages he gave through his music were awesome. I sang his songs throughout my own musical career, and I thank him for the privilege of being able to sing them. Rest in peace Mr. Seeger. You have left an amazing legacy.

Whoever put the snow coming down on the little bridge photo I took this morning, I want to thank you. It was very touching and it made my day. 

Snow in Raymond!

The last snow we had in Raymond was in 2010. Elaine and I walked this morning and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Here's some early photos of the snow. It's still snowing, so be prepared for more photos! Oh, and be sure to put out some water for the birds. They need water even in the middle of the snow storm, with everything frozen.

More Disturbing Photos From the Thrift Stores
Why would anyone buy these things? 

                                                                                                              

 

  

New notice at Grannie's Attic in Pearl

 

  

                                                          Found this on one of the TV's

Apache Shaman

Elaine and I found another junk store in Clinton the other day. It was loaded with so much junk that it took quite a while to take it all in. As I was passing an isle, something caught my eye and I came face to face with a picture that gave me some pause. In all my wanderings, I had never seen a picture of an Apache shaman. It is very symbolic and spiritual. So when I got home, I typed in the only words that were on the picture which were: Bik'egu'inda'n. I hit the search button, and up popped the following prayer.


Bik' egu indan nail hedansi
Hnzhugo na hindaadaden i
Nail gunli
Nazaa' I shi nahi ate ibil
Hnzilgu naha unzi
I'xe xe

English version:

Creator of life we honor you.
Kindly look over us.
Be generous, help us
In our language and in our ways.
Keep it strong for us.
Thank you.

Another Goddess Basket

This basket is dedicated to the Egyptian Goddess Ma’at. She is the goddess of truth and justice. Her feather was the measure that determined whether the souls (considered to reside in the heart) of the departed would reach the paradise of afterlife successfully. The stitching on this basket is the wheat stitch and the diamond stitch.

Anna Perenna, is the goddess of the coming year and all the years before and all those yet to unfold. Anna means “the year,”  Perenna means “perennial, returning in time.” This basket is dedicated to her and is filled with hopes and dreams, She is the Grandmother of Time. 

Congratulations Bay Lee, on laying your 108th egg. This is especially noted because it is the middle of the winter and the coldest days Mississippi has had in years. The polar vortex is upon us, but there's no stopping her, it seems. We're only here to reproduce. It seems to be our only use!

Although I posted the photo below, some time ago in this blog, it seems appropriate to do it now as well. Of course, she was much younger then.

                                             

Bay Lee defending her eggs. That's her nesting box in the background underneath the red towel. Woe be to the person who comes too near!

Time

This morning, Bill and I drove to Madison to meet with a clock repairman and collector. My father, was a merchant marine who went to sea for many years, and he had a ship’s clock in his quarters that accompanied him on many voyages, all around the world. The clock was passed down to my brother, but it was broken. Some years later, he gave it to me. The other day, I took it out and decided that it was time to to have it repaired and appreciated once again. It took me five phone calls, but I found a man who knew what the clock was all about and he said he could fix it. It is amazing, but the clock repairmen all know each other. His name is Carroll Rosamond and he was well into his eighties, but very bright and full of knowledge. Clock repair is a dying profession. Young people have little interest in learning such skills, and it will soon pass into obscurity. His shop was awesome. He told me that my father’s clock was built around 1900 and that 10 years ago, it would have been worth $7-800.00 dollars. Now with the waning interest in clocks, maybe $500.00. To me, the value is meaningless. To have it repaired and hung up in my house means the world to me. Precious memories are hard to come by. So I await his call to tell me it can be repaired and come and get it. If it just needs cleaning, I’ll be lucky. If not, he will have to contact another man on the west coast who is one of the last people on earth who can replicate parts. While we were looking at his shop, I found an embroidered poem that was hung up over his desk. It read...



Time for patience
For understanding too
Time to remember
Thoughtful deeds to do.
Time to believe
In all fellow men
Time to perceive
The value of a friend.

                                                                Carroll Rosamond

                                                                His work desk

                                                   Some of his awesome clocks

The second clock from the upper left has a tie for a pendulum. When it works, the eyes move  back and forth. The owl clock does the same.

                                 The grandfather clock on the left was made in the 1700's.