May was the month of the Great Flooring Adventure. If you remember (some of us try to forget) we yanked out, pulled up, sawed into, and basically dragged out the former carpet and linoleum to make room for laminate and tile. We were the destruction side of the project, but we knew we had to hire someone more experienced to do the pretty part. And along came Doug, handy man extraordinaire, world traveler, man after God's own heart. He swooped down on our destruction site and made our floors a thing of beauty, becoming a friend while he was at it. Nothing like working in someone's home to get to know them; it was humbling, but he was gracious. That's a pretty good foundation for a friendship.
In the midst of the work, our son was researching and ordering an electric bass. And little did we know, Doug knows instruments as well as he knows floors. How? Well, his son plays the bass. In a band! Doug's coolness factor instantly rose in the realm of the upstairs musical den (aka: boys' room.) Band name: Sea Fever.
Just yesterday a CD with four of their songs found its way to my van and into my CD player. And, I really, really like it.
In the midst of the work, our son was researching and ordering an electric bass. And little did we know, Doug knows instruments as well as he knows floors. How? Well, his son plays the bass. In a band! Doug's coolness factor instantly rose in the realm of the upstairs musical den (aka: boys' room.) Band name: Sea Fever.
Just yesterday a CD with four of their songs found its way to my van and into my CD player. And, I really, really like it.
I also love this poem, found on the insert:
Sea Fever
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
By John Masefield (1878-1967)
For more information about this new band from just outside Seattle:
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
By John Masefield (1878-1967)
For more information about this new band from just outside Seattle:
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