Sunday, April 22

Up around 7:30, but skipped my exercises. Around 9 a.m., Sis and Mother came over, and the three of us got things ready for lunch. Mother diced veggies (onions, celery, carrots) and put together a dish of barbecue pork chops for the oven. She also cubed onions, yellow, and zucchini squash for the steamer.

She and Mother then clipped coupons for Granddaughter, and then worked on a jigsaw puzzle, while I did this and that, including laundry, and taking care of a few business matters.

Our lunch of pork chops, with steamed squash and new potatoes was exceptionally tasty. After lunch, we watched "Still on the Hill," a documentary DVD about an Ozark couple who interview and then write folk songs about particularly interesting hill people. Hubbie and I saw this documentary recently at the Film Festival, where I bought a copy of the DVD, along with a CD of the music.

Sis and Mother went to Mother's house after that to rest and then dress for a 4 p.m. flute choir concert at the college. Wow, was it windy and chilly for an outing today.

There was a nice crowd in attendance for this interesting concert that featured not only the flute choir, but a Scottish guitarist/singer, a clog dancer, a bagpipe and drum selection, a couple of young women singers, and a bass singer.

The two young women gave an exhuberant performance of the spiritual, "I'll Fly Away." The clogger danced during this performance. The flute choir presented four spirituals, too, including, "Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child."

The choir also performed, "The Prayer," followed by the bass singer and one of the women singing the song...she in English, he dong the Italian stanzas. Whenever I hear this song I, of course, think of Andrea Bocelli.

The guitar player sang a traditional English song, called, "Lord Franklin." Thanks to the singer's Scottish brogue, it was difficult to understand the lyrics, which follow:

It was homeward bound one night on the deep,
in my hammock, I fell asleep;
I dreamed a dream and I thought it true,
Concerning Franklin and his gallant crew.

With a hundred sailors he sailed away,
The frozen ocean in the month of may,
To seek a passage around the pole,
Where we poor sailors sometimes have to go.

Through cruel hardships they vainly strove;
Their ship on mountains of ice was drove;
Only the Indian with his skin canoe,
Was the only one that ever came through.

In Baffin bay where the whale-fish blow
The fate of Franklin, no man may know;
The fate of Franklin, no tongue may tell,
Where Franklin along with his sailors does dwell.

And now my burden, it brings me pain;
For my long, lost Franklin I would cross the main;
Ten thousand guineas I would freely give
To say on Earth that my Franklin does live

The concert lasted only an hour, so we were back home shortly after 5 p.m. On the way home, we noticed the top of a tree had been snapped in the wind, and there were branches and lots of leaves blown from trees.

Since we were chilled, we decided to heat Dragon Soup from yesterday for supper, served with pimento cheese sandwiches. After supper, we played a few games of Skipbo, with Hubbie winning two games, and Sis winning one. Zilch for Mother and me.

At 8 p.m., we broke for refreshments of rice pudding, along with brownies, chocolate chip cookies, and some sort of cake/bread that looked really good but was completely tasteless (we brought the goodies home from the flute choir concert). The brownies were a bit burned, and Mother declared the cookies to be tough. These baked items were provided by members of the flute choir, who might have been pressed for time when they baked them.

Mother and Sis went to Mother's house after our snacks, and Hubbie and I watched a couple of one-hour shows on TV.

I hope the wind has died down by morning. It's uncomfortable walking in the wind after being in the swimming pool.