Why not go to a banjo band concert at the Sweet Home Veteran’s Club, if you want to celebrate Americana? That was our thought, too, so we did. After all, my life with the banjo had begun with The Rose City Banjoliers, and Uncle Carl’s wife Reg’s little tenor banjo retrieved out of My Mom-in-Law’s attic one hot summer day.

I looked up banjo lessons and found Eliot Sweetland, who, after a year or so, offered me a place in the band he led. Imagine 20 banjos, an assortment of washboards (always played by band wives), and a tuba, in one room. There’s a joke in there somewhere. I stayed with it long enough to ride a float in the Rose Festival’s Moonlight Parade, felt I had reached as far as might be possible, and put the banjo away. Fast forward: See, what I had actually wanted to play was Bluegrass, and for that, a person would need a banjo with an additional string. I heard of a man in Pendleton who made banjos, Verne Marr, and soon had a sweet little instrument scaled down to my hand. Lessons? Yes, but. Not very satisfactory (or was it my lack of talent?)

I was told of another band, which played Traditional Jazz, and which needed a banjo player. Sunset Traffic Jam Jazz Band. I dug out my 4-string, trad banjo, and played with the band for maybe a thousand years, until I decided I no longer wanted to be the band manager, financial officer, marketer, scheduler, and finally learned of another band in which I could just play the banjo. Now you’re up to date, and yesterday, we came full circle.

It all came back. The music (if you can call it that), the atmospherics, the Darling Twins singing “You Call Everybody Darling,” the jug band bass players, (but no washboards), a tuba, the guy in the front row with the flag shirt, the waitress who, in fact, called everybody darling. They were scheduled to play for three hours (!) and perhaps they did, but we found one hour was just about the right length of time and found the exit.

How did you celebrate the 4th?

Back at the farm, the fence building is marching along. Today saw the delivery of a truck-load of gravel, which will enable the cows to cross the streams without muddying the water. The posts are in, and a crew was busy securing the corner posts. Larry had been in Portland, so when he got back we went for a walk along the fence lines to check on progress. We find that our 6600 trees and shrubs are in need of either spray or weed-whacking, as a bumper crop of thistle and tansy is springing up right along with the salmonberry, cascara, nine bark, and so on. After trading calls all day, I finally connected with Adam of Cut Away Inc., who’s profession is brush-cutter, sprayer. He’s coming by tomorrow to talk about keeping my “boulevards” clear, as well as free the fence lines from over-hanging blackberry, serviceberry and so on. On our walk, Larry and I passed one of the downed oaks, now completely smothered in thistle, with blackberry waiting for an opening. Wonder if this Adam will be able to tackle this kind of mess. Fingers crossed.

Here’s one of the fence corners:

Looked more interesting in real life. It wasn’t that much fun pulling the devil’s darning needles out of my socks after out trek, so not much was gained by going on a cross-country walk.

Now, you are probably wondering how the Vision Garden is doing? First produce:

Pretty? But alas, the zucchini is profoundly bitter. Huh? Googled it, of course. Do NOT eat bitter zucchini unless you want severe abdominal pain . . . Well, no. Don’t want that, but in fact, I can’t imagine eating anything so toxic smelling anyway. Rats. What causes bitter zucchini? Apparently random events, like not enough water, uneven water, bad seeds, bad dirt, take your pick. Just don’t pick the squash. So, along with the desiccated tomato plants, the dead pear tree in the orchard, the cherry trees stripped of fruit by birds, we’re not doing very well.

But we soldier on! And now the hot dogs are off the grill and I’m out of here. I just noticed that my first post was in June of 2014. So I’ve been writing this for 4 years? Guess so. Hmm. What do I think about that?