Introducing Kate Rusby

One of my Christmas presents arrived in the mail today. It took a while since it came from the other side of the pond. It was a Kate Rusby Songbook, Volume II.

I discovered Kate Rusby on Pandora Radio. I started by asking for Celtic music, and her song just happened to be the first one they played. I gave it a "thumbs up", and they played more. I created a Kate Rusby Radio station and became, along with the rest of Britain's folkies, a big fan. Kate has a sweet, uncomplicated voice and brings her own unique style to traditional ballads and many of her own compositions. She is known as Britain's Queen of Folk and is popular in the same way there as Allison Kraus is here.

Her songbook makes it look like her songs are ultra simple, but her C, F, and G are not standard C, F, and G. She uses alternate tunings, such as double drop D and DADGAD, and open chord shapes to create her unique sound. There is a Celtic influence to her style, but it is her own. Her Christmas CD "Sweet Bells" provided the soundtrack for my Christmas Season this year. On it she features traditional Yorkshire Village Carols and original tunes to traditional lyrics. My favorite cut is hard to choose, since I love the whole album, but I find myself listening to "A Miner's Dream of Home" again and again. I have been working on my own version of it on the guitar and enjoying that, too. I use a short cut capo to achieve that alternate tuning sound (I didn't figure that out; my guitar teacher did).

If you are interested in sampling a little bit of her music, she has a few free cuts on her My Space page and I'll include a link to some You Tube videos. Her accent is charming and her music is engaging. I like it. See what you think.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_GgsRC-Sks From "Sweet Bells"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obXLsp9HRNk "Little Jack Frost"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=db1IchkKpLw "The Lark" (not crazy about the video, but you can hear the song)

Sting's new album

I don't think I am quite finished with Christmas music. I have even checked out the half price albums at Target. I look for Christmas music I have never heard before. If the playlist includes "Little Drummer Boy" or "The Christmas Song", it is a definite no. I really don't think Carrie Underwood will bring anything new to table.

Sting is another story. He never does anything conventional, and his winter album is no exception. If you are thinking Bing Crosby, save your money. Sting uses original and traditional songs from the British Isles with contemporary and traditional instruments to create a real mix of Christmas and winter related tunes. Lute, hurdy-gurdy, and melodion are just a few of the unusual instruments.

There are times I think he's trying too hard to be different, but several of the songs, especially "The Burning Babe", are really interesting. There are also times when he tries too hard for a vocal effect I can't quite describe, and don't like. Overall, I am glad to add it to my library.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0F8WiHEhDVY

Contradictions

Along with the new year and these lovely snow days (the little Carter County teacher bonus) comes the inevivitable realization that exercise needs to be part of my routine. I have gone in spurts over the years. I even belonged to a gym for a while, more than once. I have walked the neighborhood with Kylie or neighbors. I have purchased videos. I even own a stablity ball and mini tramp. I get it. No lectures necessary. Why can't I keep it up? Why is it such a chore? It isn't really that big of a deal.

Maybe I have the sports gene missing. I do hate to watch sports (except the Olympics, a contradiction, I know). I thank God that my children were not sporty. That would have meant endless hours watching practices and games. I can't imagine greater torture. Pee Wee soccer and T-Ball were horrible for all of us and were thankfully short lived. No matter what I have tried or how hard I have pushed, I have never felt the magical endorphin rush. Maybe I am missing that gene, too.

Maybe it is vanity. Not only does being sweaty feel gross and smell bad, my hair sticks to my head, and I look pretty darn bad. My cue to quit is that warm, damp feeling of just breaking a sweat.

Find something you think is fun and do that, they say. Fun? Seriously? None of it is fun. Dancing or skating might be tolerable. The best I can hope for is to tolerate movement while doing something else that distracts me. Several years ago there was this excercise lady on TV that I actually liked, Charlene Prickett. She was so chatty about her friends, her kids, and what she had recently read, that it was pretty much over before you knew it. She's not on any more. Her videos are boring since there's no newsy chat.

So, today I jumped around and walked on a mini-stepper (yes, I have that, too) while watching a recording of America's Test Kitchen. Thirty commercial-free minutes, and I am done. And yes, I am aware of the contradiction of watching a cooking show to distract me from the horror of excercise. Whatever works, I guess.

Winter Night

I undecorated the tree today. I really hate to do it, but Bob hates to do it too and I thought if he were willing to shovel the driveway in subzero windchill temperatures, I could undecorate the tree. He had been thinking the same thing. As is customary, our driveway is the cleanest in the neighborhood, in part due to Bob being full on A Type personality and his being married to that crazy Yankee woman who thinks such an excercise is necessary. I think the neighbors must think we are odd since very few of them attempt shoveling, ever. Apparently, in East Tennessee, it's just not done.

Back to the tree. I removed the ornaments carefully and methodically as to protect the fragile ones and hide the ugly ones, so that next year, the ones I like best would be front and center. I was thinking how lovely the fragrance was as I unhooked the ornaments, the tree giving its gift one more time before finding its place next to last year's tree in the backyard woods. A perfect specimen, lovingly chosen from Cartner's Choose and Cut Tree Farm, this had been a North Carolina beauty, sparkling from within due to my careful placement of the white twinkle lights (a la Martha Stewart).

Unfortunately, as I was waxing nostalgic over the majesty of the Frasier Fir, I pulled the wrong end of the lights and knotted them into a mess even Clark Griswold would have given up on. Bob helped me pull them apart, but alas, they did not survive the ordeal. Instead of one string with a dead section, I now had three. My husband, ever the problem solver, placed the following reminder on his computer calendar for November 19, 2010: Buy new Christmas Lights.

I've done all the undecorating I can stand for today. Tomorrow will do. Tonight I am listening to Kate Rusby's "Miner's Dream of Home", Gordon Lightfoot's "Song for a Winter Night", and Sting's "The Snows they Melt the Soonest". All perfect for a snow covered winter night.