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One great hing about living out in the sticks, is that there always seems to a lot of different ways of driving home.

In the morning, driving to work is all about getting there.

I'm happy to take the four-lane highway.

As a rule I'm done at work by about 1230. So I have a lot of time to get home.

One route is just wonderful. The road is full of hills and bends. Somehow it's like driving in a commercial for a car.

As I drive past the farms, the corn fields, the cattle, even the sanctuary for old donkeys who always seem to want to hang out by the road, I in my own little way am thankful to live where I live. - Remember that for my first 27 years on the planet I lived in down town London. A city I love, but never the less still a city.

In the spring I enjoy the trees coming into bloom the light greens and patches of white on the trees. In early summer seeing how the corn is coming along, watching for the grass to be cut and made into hay. Fall here in SW-PA is truly spectacular, as the leaves change and the uncut corn changes from green to yellow.

Near the nd of my drive is a berry farm. They have a small caf that serves the best cheese cake topped with fresh raspberries. I am of course a regular. The farm is owned by a local doctor who works with my wife. Next to the berry farm he has in the last few years added a winery. I'm not really into sweet wines but cheesecake and a glass of concord wine is a real winner.

I really enjoy the drive.

I enjoy my time alone, after a day at work it really is a wonderful way to recharge.

This is also my time to turn the sound system in the car up. HWMBO hates loud music and we don't share the same taste in music. Which is strange as apart from modern jazz, I like just about anything.

But on my little drives, I really get into songs and Cd's that I can sing along with.

None of this music is what might be called "Cool". But I don't care. I have a great time, with the music blaring and me singing!

This week I was saddened to hear that Mary Travers had passed on. Peter, Paul and Mary have over the years provided me with hours of singing fun and enjoyment.

My renditions of Puff The Magic Dragon, both in my car and at camp fires have served to lighten my mood.

 

 

A dragon lives forever but not so little boys

Painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys.

One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more

And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

 

Eamonn

 

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When I was in the sixth grade our teacher had us learn Puff and Where Have All the Flowers Gone. It was 1964 so the PP&M albums were still on the charts. I remember that there was a girl across the aisle from me who got teary every time we sang the last verse of Puff and I thought that was silly. 45 years later I get misty when I hear that verse; more now than a week ago.

 

Hal

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Jackie PAPER and the song was about PUFF?

 

What do you think they were singing about? A boy and his magical dragon? Hello, anybody from the 60's out there?

 

And I suppose you think the song this verse is from is about Easter morning at the Lennon/McCartney households:

 

Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain,

Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.

Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers,

That grow so incredibly high.

 

 

I remember what the doormouse said

(This message has been edited by OldGreyEagle)

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"I remember what the doormouse said"

At my age I'm having a hard time remembering what

anyone said!

Along them same lines. Who was it that said "If you can remember the sixties, you didn't live through them."?

 

That doormouse ought to have had a little chat with a few of Henry VIII little ladies.

Ea.

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