However unlikely it is here in the desert, and however silly it seems to people who put up with blizzards, I’ve always romanticized snow. The same way people who live in really green places love dirt, and just want to be surrounded by miles and miles of it. What’s that? They don’t? Oh. Well, I still like when it snows.

maybe it will snow, snow on us this year
i know there’s not much chance
i can’t help but hope, and it’s been pretty cold

there’s some ice in the backyard and we’re wearing our coats
this may be the desert but it’s still gettin’ cold
i can heat some water and make us a treat
one cup of hot chocolate for you and one for me

maybe it will snow, snow on us this year
i know we don’t have plows
it would be nice, even if the city shuts down

maybe it will snow, snow on us this year

This song was almost completed, with guitar, vocal, and banjo done. I was playing along and planning to add autoharp when I hit a chord that wasn’t in the song (Emaj7, if you were curious). I really liked it, much more than the chord I had in its place, so I recorded the song all over again. Even pretended to play a mandolin solo. Also, the vocals coming in right away was an accident the first time, but I liked it. It’s interesting how many times a mistake turns into something that works well. That’s my excuse for never practicing, anyway.

This song was definitely inspired by our visit to the Watson Farm in Rhode Island; my brother works there, and his fiancee’s family has been running it for 30ish years. (I know I mentioned this in the “thoughts on monuments” entry.) We had dinner in a farmhouse that is over 200 years old. I know there are places much older, but I’ve never been to one that is a home.

we rode the train across some states
and caught glimpses of the cities
big enough to spend our lives exploring
big enough to get lost in

in between the trees raced by
and the water shined and traced the sky
and we saw broken buildings and graffiti
and we saw falling leaves

these people build their homes
make them out of anything they can find
these people build their homes
make them anywhere they can find

we stood in places older than anyone
almost as old as our country
some enough to keep a family warm
some enough to get lost in

these people built their homes
made them out of anything they could find
these people built their homes
made them anywhere they could find

I’ve still got a cheesy love song or two in me. It’s true, though. I’m finding it hard to wind down after all of the activity of the last month. But I suppose that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I have one show this month (so far) and three with my other project Scrap Iron Saints who, by the way, have their first cassette / download / CD (available shortly) available here. Enough for shameless self-promotion. Here’s another song.

i like to travel with you
driving or flying or riding the train
i like to wander with you
looking in bookshops, trying new lunch spots

there’s nowhere i wouldn’t go
as long as you wanted to go too

i like to be at home with you
talking or eating or watching movies
i like to do nothing with you
some people keep so busy
they miss all the beautiful things