Tag Archives: Juni Fisher

I went into a country store today and was very conservative in my selections. Lucinda helped me, and what a help she was.

Inspired

But I got this and there is a vest that I really want that I need to think about.

First of all, Juni Fisher is not just a song writer, she’s a story teller from way back when, a woman who names inanimate objects and tells stories about them. She’s also a singer, with a voice as clear as a bell, and a guitar picker. And a right nice gal.

I walked into this store wanting to look for Jim but ended up looking for me. My thought is that I’ll end up with something we could renew our vows in, someday after Nanny’s surprise has worn off. Then we can hit her again.

Boots will have to be specially made for me, perhaps for Jim as well. Hat for me would work but brother John has to weigh in on hats for both, as Jim’s head is too big – must be that darned big brain of his.

Yesterday, Nanny took us for a ride in our car, as she’s looking to buy a car and we just got ours a few weeks ago. Jim spent a lot of time adjusting her seat et al, but when we got on the road she was enjoying herself and we always love her company.

Let’s hope Juni got home safe and has some time with family and friends before her next tour. We enjoyed meeting her, spending some down time with her and listening to her tales both spoken and sung.

She brought me home. Three taps of the horn – thanks Mom! Keep on cooking, folks, Dee

We had an uneventful trip home today, my favorite kind of car trip without nasty traffic. We stopped en route to purchase more memory for my computer (Jim) and pick up the dog from the kennel (aka dog spa) with $30 penalty for Sunday pickup. Jim also picked up homemade jams and beef jerky at exit ??? I don’t recall, but we got gasoline there.

Our home isn’t home unless all of us are in it. It’s too quiet without Zoe trying to trip me with an armful of laundry, so we had to pick her up right away after picking up more memory…. Perhaps as we get older we can pick up more human memory, but I don’t think the pharmaceutical companies have that in mind.

Many things went through my mind, especially the last song Juni Fisher sang and dedicated to Nanny, The Whipporwhill Song, in which a mother calls for her children and brings them home. When we moved from our small village out to what I now recognize to be a “Gentleman’s Farm” out in the country when I was eight years old, my sister and I toughened up right away and went toe-to-toe with our two neighbor boys near our age.

We learned within a week to climb a ragged rope 150′ down to the creek. The people who sold us their unfinished house, that we spent three years finishing, also sold us an old station wagon. When there was fifteen minutes to dinner on the table, Mom would go out to our parking lot and hit the car horn three long blasts. That meant come up the cliff, get cleaned up, wash your hands and be at the table. We did so right away.

When Juni sang her Whipporwhill Song I was in tears remembering my mother who died just weeks ago. My song was three car blasts to get us up from the creek. I guess we never learned how to whistle or sing a bird’s song. The old station wagon used to be my bird song. But I now have my home. Dee