



My grandfather use to sing Row, row, row your boat to get us to sleep when we were children.  The words were a bit mixed up in my head and I though it went "Life is butterbeans," rather than "Life is but a dream."  Have been working on this for a while now and am about 95% finished.  Sort sums up my sentiments about my grandfather in a tangential kind of way.  He came from a farming family in Hyde county NC, but had to sell when is father died unexpectedly...he managed hotels for many years, but eventually settled in Tarboro and owned a John Deere dealership. There were hours of fun pretending to drive the tractors and combines as a child.  Not a big talker, tall, good dresser had a very calm demeanor that you seldom see in men anymore.  About a year before he died we went to Greenville to pick up  eye glasses for my grandmother and myself.   We waited for my grandmother in the car and he talked about  growing up on a farm and his grandfather  Harris... was a  clear fall day under some long leaf pines and I remember looking at the  piles of pinestraw on the ground the coppery color and the blue sky...that is the color of eastern NC to me.
While working on this piece two songs played along in my head.  One was 
John Prine's "Grandpa was a Carpenter" ...always reminded me of Papa even though he was not a carpenter....  esp the part about wearing a suit to dinner and driving to church on Sunday.  The other song was by 
The Gourds, "Coppermine"  from Stadium Blitzer.  The lyrics are as follows:
Coppermine, oh coppermine           My great-great grandfolk on my father's side 
          used to work,in a coppermine - oh yeah 
          A penny here, a penny there 
          won't you drop one in my waterwell 
          The women lived in Maine* my friend 
          The men they lived underground 
          Copperwire oh copperwire 
          clever clever copperwire 
          Wrapped in black rubber 
          never knew it was a miner's manner 
          I loved so well 
          A penny here, a penny there 
          won't you drop one in my waterwell 
          The women lived in Maine my friend 
                    The men they lived underground
Last winter I went to an exhibit of book arts and there was a piece that had an ipod that you listened, was mostly the artist talking.  Would love to create something with both these songs playing interchangeably and some stream of concious thought process intermixed.