Let Me Tell You A Secret About A Father’s Love


“Daddies don’t just love their children every now and then.” ( Aaron Barker, 1990 )

Brent put “Top 100 Country Songs” on the iPod. I have an iPod in the kitchen ( iPod did not sponsor this post. I would quite happily use a no-name USB stick from China. ). We play music in the kitchen and dance and sing and clean and cook. I’ve been listening to a wide range of country music and OH the lyrics. Some are hilarious, but most are sap written in a clever way, which make you laugh and cry at the same time. Magic. We have tissues in the kitchen. Country music is uniquely American. It is refreshing to understand American spirit through these lyrics and chord progressions.


I never knew I had such a connection to country music. One twang and I’m off with memories of BBQ and gatherings and Aunt Jean’s house. Boots, belt buckles, Uncle Harry’s car collection ( ten cars, but they are one ), the horse shoes, the pool games, the poker and country music. “Harry! Get me a Highball!”   All family and community. Us kids had a great time. We mostly avoided all that and ran around all silly-like eating chips and drinking Coke. This same feeling occurs here in France. Except for the poker and the horse shoes and the pool games and the country music. You are left with a community having a great time. Activities are secondary.


“Let me tell you a secret about a father’s love, A secret that my daddy said was just between us”

We are in the heat of this family and the heat of this farm. Kids are happy. Beef is tasty! Soon, the kids will be off as responsible, giving adults. Soon, this farm will be running smoothly.

“It is a love without end.”


and to snap you out of my Hallmark moment ( Hallmark did not sponsor this post either, I really should stop dropping names ) I bring you End, Amen “World In Decay”.  I’m sure they were also inspired by George Straight singing Aaron Barker’s “Love Without End, Amen”  Grass-fed beef, Deathrow Psychotic Waltz  … potato potato as they say.  We are all after health, happiness, self control and a great giggle. … or hair flap




Red, White and Fleather


(photo by Brent’s mum.  This is France)

Brent’s mum is in town and what better way to show her around than to take her to a country music festival in France.  Michael went the day before and said the festival was worth going to.  Evidently, this is the biggest country music festival in Europe, but I’ll let Michael take care of that detail.  Personally, all I know is that something cool was happening in a nearby village.  Brent said, “Wear your hat!  Wear your boots!”  I was more in the mood to be a spectator rather than a participant.  I didn’t even bring my camera!  And did I regret it.  The drive to Mirande is gorgeous.  Except everywhere from my house is gorgeous.  The sunflowers are in full pride.  The hay is baled.  The grass is green.  It couldn’t get more France.  On our way we saw an old man wearing a béret riding a bike uphill.  I told Brent’s mum to grab her camera as we passed the peloton and gave a shout-out to Lance.

Country Music in France!

(an older Country Music Festival poster)



(white hat.  M. America.  photo by me with what appears to be a smudge of mayo from Lucy’s frites)

Arriving in MIrande was calm.  One step into the festival was bizarre.  We quickly shifted from bérets to cowboy hats.  The leather was full on.  Boots.  Chaps.  Harley Davidson.  Howling wolves.  A man with spurs carrying a shotgun … oh yeah.  Then some music began.  Folks from all around quickly gathered for some honest to goodness line dancing.  It was all so real until you hit the foie gras on a bun stand served with wine.  There were two memorable moments for me.  It was in the song “Sweet Home Alabama” which for some reason, I’ve heard quite a bit.  When the band hit the chorus, you realize they don’t speak English in “What.”  Instead of “Sweet home AlaBAHma,” you hear “Sweet home Al-Ah-Bah-Mah” equally emphasized.  It’s me singing Frère Jacques in reverse.  The other moment was watching Captain America dance.  He was great.  I’d say he had a lot of River Dance training.  He was very good and impeccably dressed.  On our way out, a man riding a decked out three wheeler motor chopper dealio drove by.  Lucy bought a braclet.  Food, folks and fun.  I think I will have to go next year, but this time in my boots and hat.