a note from Christine...

    Chris is very chatty this month and I'm afraid I might not be able to keep up.  Tomorrow we are going to take a mini vacation for three days and I'm about ready to start now.  My concentration is a bit off tonight. 
     We began work on our new CD this week - a collection of songs by Tom Peterson - Chris's old friend from South Dakota.  I am in love with this music and intend to let it evolve gracefully and on its own time.  No deadlines, no plans...we are taking our time and keeping the heart and soul alive in every note.  It's like a great meal that you don't want to end...savoring every bite.  I just love walking into our new, cool, cave like, cozy studio and leaving the world behind.  What a gift.   
     Okay, I told you I couldn't keep up with Chris!  My bed is calling and for once I'm speechless.
     Stay cool.
              Christine

     P.S. Since Chris is sharing childhood memories, I thought I'd show you how far back I have been demonstrating my "funky chic" sense of style. 

Swan Songs fulfills musical wishes by arranging private concerts for individuals facing the end of life, with a Texas artist or style of music that they have requested.

 Swan Songs has brought music as diverse as Scottish folk songs, Elvis songs, Christmas music in January, bagpipes, classical bassoon, gospel, country and Texas blues/rock to central Texans at the end of life.  If you would like to support this work, you can make a contribution here.  It is greatly appreciated. 

Quote of the Month

"Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over it and whispers, "Grow, grow".
The Talmud

and a blurb from Chris...

     So, it's back to Pierre, South Dakota this month, the home town of my heart (to quote Grandpa Jones).  Pierre, (pronounced "peer") is snuggled down into the Missouri River valley, and it's a beautiful place.  In the summer the river is alive with boats and skiers and fun and sun, and in the winter the town is taken over by a flock of Canadian geese that come every year like clockwork to enjoy Capital Lake, a warm artesian lake in the center of town.  Literally, in the winter, to get across town you have to drive through huge flocks of geese that are sauntering across the road.  (Do geese really saunter?)
     My favorite memory of Capital Lake (which is adjacent to the Governor's mansion; the Governor, Mike Rounds, is an old grade school playmate of mine, but that's another story) is still the time I chased the fire truck on my bicycle only to find that the emergency was a drunk in the lake up to his chest in water and geese singing at the top of his lungs. 

     My Mom still lives in Pierre, right on the river actually, and stills pens a column for the local River Life newspaper called "At Random".  We're coming your way, Mom, see if any of your friends can spare some walleye filets, or pheasant, or maybe some fresh sweet corn and rhubarb.  I'll do the cooking!
     See you at the gig.
     Chris
P.S. Christine and I are performing two shows in the old Grand Theatre in Pierre, where I sat in the balcony as a young boy and watched "The Sound of Music" every Sunday afternoon for 6 weeks straight.  Doe, a deer.....