Click above to play while you read.
If you are a geezer, like me, this song will send you off into clouds of memories. You might just stop here, close your eyes, and off you go – into that world of innocence (at least compared to now-a-days!) back in the 60’s and 70’s – before the world became such a dark and scary place.
Oh wait, there was WWII and Korea before this, so for that generation the world was already dark and scary.
I was lucky enough to have missed that era having been born a few years after WWII ended. I think Paul was born just exactly at the end of WWII in 1945, according to his mum.
But back to the song. Come Saturday Morning, by the Sandpipers. I was mentioning this song to my friend, Mz. Em, just now in an email and couldn’t remember who sang it. I would never have guessed Sandpipers if good old Google hadn’t have been there for me.
Good Old Google.
And OMG, this one, “I’ll Never Find Another You,” by the Seekers, has just sent me into memory-orbit:
Now this one has meaning for me. I played guitar as a teen and belonged to a church youth group called Pilgrim Fellowship. We put on “hootenannies” down at the Church and this was one of the songs we did there. It was just when I had started dating my 1st husband, Bill. I can remember trying to learn all the words to the song right before we performed it on stage, and I was so scared I’d forget them. I looked out into the audience of teens and parents alike and saw my new boyfriend, Bill, out there smiling back at me. I went all wobbly-kneed. I may have forgotten a few of the words in the middle of the song, but I can remember my great friend, Bart Janney, who was accompanying on guitar and vocals, picked me up with the correct words right when I needed them.
Wow. A blast from my past! I am going to get this entry published and click on this video again!
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And just to close out this Holiday week, here’s my picture of the week from our humble Thanksgiving dinner… at least Paul had a smile on his face.
Not to bore you with all the details, but my attempt to make the Pioneer Woman’s recipe of buttermilk fried chicken failed miserably. You may not see it in the photo, but the batter did not stick to the chicken at all. So we ate the chicken and discarded the batter for the most part. A small fare meal was had by us, and then leftovers last night, as well. No shopping at crazy malls or Holiday-busting big box stores for us.
So happy Saturday mornin’ to everyone.
Bex & Co.
It’s in every one of us to be wise;
Find your heart, open up both your eyes.
We can all know every thing without ever knowing why.
It’s in every one of us, by and bye.
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