Wishing everyone a very happy Mother's Day! Ashford is free on Kindle today, so if you'd like to pick up a copy for your mother...
Aaron and I spent last night at a book fair in support of the Libraries of Stevens County. The turnout was not quite so nice as we could have hoped, but it was enjoyable, and I had the chance to meet other local authors. As an afterthought I threw in our remaining copies of An Amazing Alphabetic Anthology, the book which I wrote and my mother illustrated years ago, and it turned into the surprise hit of the night, with nearly everybody toting them around. My mother and I have been scheming for some time about putting out a new edition, redoing some of the letters we weren't as happy with and putting it out in paperback to reduce the expense. Look for it sometime in the coming year. I'm posting a link below for Aaron's music page, where he just added a new song, Dying Day, which he wrote for his parents. Seems appropriate for today. Cheers! Now go spoil your mothers.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Aaron-Huff-SingerSongwriter/137392933016776?sk=app_182222305144028
Showing posts with label song. Show all posts
Showing posts with label song. Show all posts
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Belonging
Song lyric of the day, from Deb Talan's The Gladdest Thing:
Doesn't each of us have a place where we belong? Could be a sidewalk crack or a sad song.
The song came up on Pandora this morning at work, and that line caught me. Everyone can think of a place like that, somewhere they felt at home, at peace. Elizabeth Goudge, in Green Dolphin Street, referred to it as one's own "special country", as a state of mind given shape as a place.
For me as a child I found it in the branches of a particular tree. Since then I have found it many places, from the banks of the Teifi in Wales to an empty parking lot, a full auditorium to a dim cedar grove. They are the places and the moments when I feel I have most truly lived, times and places where doing was not required, when simply being was enough and more than enough and the distortion of life as we know it was gone, when action became superfluous and speech banal.
To live always in those moments would be to live in heaven.
Doesn't each of us have a place where we belong? Could be a sidewalk crack or a sad song.
The song came up on Pandora this morning at work, and that line caught me. Everyone can think of a place like that, somewhere they felt at home, at peace. Elizabeth Goudge, in Green Dolphin Street, referred to it as one's own "special country", as a state of mind given shape as a place.
For me as a child I found it in the branches of a particular tree. Since then I have found it many places, from the banks of the Teifi in Wales to an empty parking lot, a full auditorium to a dim cedar grove. They are the places and the moments when I feel I have most truly lived, times and places where doing was not required, when simply being was enough and more than enough and the distortion of life as we know it was gone, when action became superfluous and speech banal.
To live always in those moments would be to live in heaven.
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