Go down ye blood red roses!

I've got a new obsession with Sea Chantys, or Chanteys or Shantys (if you'd like to refer to lumbermen along American rivers). Anyway, I can't seem to read enough on the subject. I've always been a huge fan of folk music and art. Growing up in the Appalachian Mountains, I was surrounded by a very specific culture. We were mountain folk. Some of my family were moonshiners, even to this day. Bluegrass and mountain music were commonplace. Going to "pickin in the park" was always an option for Thursdays and Folkmoot was a yearly treat. Today I live in the deep South, Southern Louisiana, where I'm surrounded by a very different but again very specific culture. Here in the heart of Cajun country, you can catch zydeco at a local bar any night of the week and food for the soul on any corner. The Chantys and work songs represent their own culture. Men who gave most of their lives to the sea. Like the songs of the mountains, I can relate to these. Being a wife at home with one eye to the coast, I understand. They generate feelings of longing, pride and love.

Today I realized there's a festival for this type of music in Connecticut. I probably won't go to the festival itself but it is held at a wonderful maritime museum I'd love to see. Always one for a road trip, I've decided on one of my vacation destinations next year. Ideally I'd like to hit the major Revolutionary War spots. Operation "Jessie & James Do American History" is in the works.


Oh yeah and I start school on August 25 for Culinary Arts.