dual personalities

The week flew by, but at least one part of it was truly delightful. On Tuesday my niece and nephew dropped in for a quick visit on their (roundabout) way to Pennsylvania. We’re so glad they took the huge detour to see us! Here are the cousins (note facial hair on son #2!)

We had a leisurely dinner of bbq’d beef tenderloin, corn on the cob, fries, and beer from our local brewery, the St. Lawrence Brewing Co. and then  we stayed up late gabbing. I had so much fun that I forgot to take pictures until early next morning just before our guests hit the road.

Clearly I never learned what “act natural” means.

Unfortunately, they timed their visit to coincide with the hottest, muggiest days of the year. They arrived during a deluge and it remained rainy and in the 80s while they were here. But as experienced travelers and intrepid outdoors people, un-airconditioned rooms didn’t phase them at all. After they left us, they headed over to Vermont for some camping in the Green Mountains, a quick visit to see their cousin at college there, and a couple of side-trips to cemeteries to pay their respects to ancestors.

I hope they found these Chamberlin graves (note the misspelling on the headstones) in Moretown. I’m looking forward to hearing all about their travels and hope they visit us again soon!

The rest of the week was pretty standard, but while I was tidying the house before our visitors arrived, I did rediscover a favorite ‘sad song’.  Since it’s a rainy Saturday, it seems appropriate to share it with you. Here’s Mark Knopfler singing “Before Gas and TV.” Even if you know it well, you should listen to it!

And, of course, have a great weekend!

Or “How I got to love sad music”. When I was just a wee sprog — ages and ages ago —  we owned a very low-tech record player. My mother preferred classical music with a smattering of Kingston Trio, Bobby Darin,  Burl Ives, and show tunes thrown in. And, of course, my father liked his bagpipe music and Ewan MacColl sea chanties. All of it influenced my own taste (yes, even the Ewan MacColl), but most of all, I like a sad tune. Here’s how it all started.

A typical evening, but one that has stayed with me for some reason, saw my mother and brother sitting in the living room listening to and discussing Beethoven’s 7th. My sister and I — she about 7 and I, 5 — were already in our nightgowns ready for bed. We were bored, so we started to dance to the music — Mother may even have suggested it. We leapt around the room, did pirouettes atop the heavy canister vacuum, and generally disrupted the intellectual discourse by insisting that our mother watch us. Our brother was (understandably) annoyed, but Mother approved, because, as she then noted, the  super sad Allegretto of the 7th is known as “the apotheosis of the dance”.

I obviously didn’t know what that meant, but I remember feeling happy and somehow vindicated. So perhaps my early love of melancholy music can be attributed to Beethoven (thank you, Ludwig!). There was, of course, a lot of sad music around– the kind that makes your throat hurt unbearably. When I was a little kid, my two favorite sad songs were “Puff the Magic Dragon”

and “Feed the Birds” from Mary Poppins.

Picture little six-year-old Sarah trying not to cry over those. I still love the sad music, but I’ll leave my current picks for another post. My question for you, dear reader, is: when you were little, what was your favorite sad song ?