Another Friday Night

Nora and I dropped Patrick and Maggie off at the last football game of the season. Rose was there already with her girlfriends. Thomas walked to the theater to watch a movie.

As Nora and I drove home, the sun dipped below the horizon, washing everything with dusk. I caught a glimpse of the waxing moon, catching up with the sun. It was a glorious sight for me, knowing that she is growing fat again, though still in her crescent form.

The bread was waiting for me, so I turned on the music and started to tear paper to wrap things up. Nanci Griffith gave me a hug I truly needed. What a friend is her music to me.

More work is calling my name, but I though someone out there might need a hug from Nanci as well, so I leave you with the lyrics of one of my favorite songs of all time:

Trouble in these Fields

Baby I know that we've got trouble in the fields

When bankers swarm like locust out there turning away our yield

The trains roll by our silos, silver in the rain.

They leave our pockets full of nothing but our dreams and the golden grain.

Have you seen the folks in line downtown at the station?

They're buying their ticket out and talking the great depression.

Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago,

When they stood out in these empty fields in dust as deep as snow.

Chorus

And all this trouble in these fields, if this rain will fall these wounds can heal.

They'll never take our native soil.

But if we sell that new John Deere and then we'll work these crops with sweat and tears,

You'll be the mule, I'll be the plow,

Come harvest time we'll work it out, there's still a lot of love,

Right here in these troubled fields.

There's a book up on my shelf about those dust bowl days and there's a little bit of me and a little bit of you in the photos on every page.

Our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders,

they never want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder.

CHORUS

You'll be the mule, I'll be the plow, Come harvest time we'll work it out, there's still a lot of love, right here in these troubled fields.

Nanci Griffith, Dustbowl Symphony

I hope you will take a listen and I hope that her song will give you a hug as well. Now Nora and I will get back to the bakery. She is going to put labels on for me.