a country mile

the first day of school

When these lovely seed packets arrived at our Minneapolis home back in February, after a trip north from the Iowa farm of the Seed Savers Exchange, I giddily lined them up to take a photo. Like a motley crew of kids in a one room country school house, the tall bean pole family stood in the back row, the squat pumpkins in the front next to the eager spinach and peas, the eccentric sunflowers off to the side and the sensitive lettuce snuggled in the middle. The 'Dwarf Blue Curled Scotch' Kale and the 'Mammoth Red Rock' Cabbage, in need of a little push, have already started their fight to become our beloved dinner. It's been a tough go, with far too little sun and even less warm air, their future is still in the balance. Tomorrow we will transplant them and introduce them to the sun and blessed 60 degree air. Also tomorrow, we will spend some time in the area that will soon be our garden, a lovely grove behind the barn that was once a pasture for the cows. There is lots of work to do, but thankfully the dirt is as rich and dark as you would imagine... 

... and even through the blanket of snow (that is hopefully almost all melted into the thawing ground) can't you just taste the summer? 

The first day of school. What am I going to wear? Ah geez, I hope I can sleep...

about the name

When simoneperrin[dot]com first came on the scene, its purpose was to tell the world about my shows and where they could aquire my cd and where they could find me in the world of the book-of-faces and all the other things that seemed right for the Simone Perrin of that time. It was a lovely site, adorned with photos of me selling accordion allure and a long rambling story of what I did and where I sang and who liked me the most. But life happened, and as it goes with the life, I was no longer on those pages. And so, in the interest of finding a place where I could still tell the world about my shows, but also tell my story and share some photos of things I see instead of things I put on, I went searching for something different to add to me[dot]com. I looked in some books, but nothing worked. I talked about it with whoever would listen, but nada. Then one sunny day in early February, I decided to take a walk (with the little man bundled in a front carrier under my winter coat) with my ipod machine in my ears. I was looking for some cosmic ipod intervention, and I found it. 

 

 ...you could hear us singing for a country mile.

I like it. 

 

:: these days ::

This spring is taking some time to show its face, and it's making us all a little crazy. In the meantime, we are...

:: reading a new book (more on that one) and planting seeds.

:: watching the snow fall and thinking of the sweet songbirds who are surely as confused as us.

:: greeting our new four legged neighbors, a family of five or more deer through a dusk lit window.

:: joining our human neighbors at their 'sugar bush'(a collection of sugar maples) to collect sap for this year's maple syrup boil.

The weather is frustrating and strange, and I am sad to say this won't be the last time I will feel such things. It brings uncertaintly and lays a pit in my stomach as I know it is a preview of more weird weather days to come. 

But today, just in time for the afternoon sun to make its way to the horizon, the clouds shifted. There was enough time to bundle up the guy, take a walk in the snow and feel the warmth on my face. It was sweet spring time love... and I must say, the shadows were pretty sweet too. 

testing. one two three.

                                                                                                                              Photo by C. Everett

Last fall, my family and I came to this lovely farm in Wisconsin so I could perform in the barn as part of their artist series. A one night performance with me + the accordion pixie + the uke (not yet named). The moon was full and shining through the open window behind me as I sang to a crowd of 80 or so humans. It was a lovely evening and I'd have to say my favorite solo show to this date. 

The photo above (taken by our host), is where we stayed that evening. A sweet apartment saddled up against the main house. It is in those same walls where I type this tale to you now. You see, sometimes you have a lovely show in the light of a full moon and then you go home. The time and place linger for a while and then gradually become part of the story of the fall, a flash of the picture of that time when you did shows in your baby's first year. Other times, a show is the beginning of something big and life altering, and that sweet apartment where you slept one night becomes your home. And so, here we are. My family and I are now caretakers at a farmstead in Wisconsin. We left the city, something we've wanted to do since we started talking about things we wanted to do. In those talks, we spoke of living off the land, growing food to feed ourselves through the year, having a wood shop and a craft studio and simply finding time to do the things that a busy city doesn't allow. If these words (and so many more) were said in the form a question, this was the answer. It's still very new and all the dreams of what it can and will be are somewhere under that snow that continues to fall in this endless winter. But the spring will come, and before we know it our sweet apartment will once again be graced with the yellow and orange canopy of the fall. Until then, there are many seeds to put in the ground, diapers to change, songs to sing. Our favorite these days is one about a doop (diaper) bucket, a catchy tune that will surely never make it on an album.