Background: I grew up in a house full of music. There was a lot country, 50s pop and German polka songs going on. All. The. Time. Records were on the player (vinyl to you young’uns) and lots of singing. My dad played gigs with his accordion. My mom sung in a choir. Both of my brothers sang in high school glee clubs. On the other hand I’m the only one in the family who cannot hold a proper tune but I played piano for a while. I’m also the one who wanted to be a rock star but that’s another post.
This week I’ve been painting this new house. It brings back memories. When I was a kid we lived in a house that needed work. Always. My dad was often updating something and after he died, the rest of us continued. We wallpapered my mom’s kitchen at least three times as she said, “this will last me until I die!” Yet five years later there we were ripping down the old to put up the new while she was putting on a pot of coffee.
We sang when we worked. If I was there it wasn’t pretty but the rhythm of a song keeps you on track. You move to the beat and singing keeps your spirits up. There is a reason why chain gangs had songs.
This week as I’ve painted, I was reminded of old memories. I miss those days but most of all I miss my family. You can make new memories but you can’t replace the old. This song was one of the most sung songs in my house during DIY house projects. We had a lot of fun trying to sing the base. My brother Tom was the best although he’s technically a tenor.
Well, as the Brits say, “carry on!” Back to painting.