Saturday, June 26, 2010

I think there's a rain cloud hanging over my head when it comes to playing music outside! This morning was beautiful but about a half an hour before I was due to set up at the Waconda, it hailed about three inches and the temperature dropped 30 degrees! Oh well... it could have been worse. (At least I wasn't about to play golf with Mac and Dixie Stew.) Now, as I'm writing this blog, it is thundering and lightning is striking (was that Lou Christie I heard?), the wind is picking up and it's starting to rain. At least I'll be playing inside at the Lariat tonight. I hope the roof doesn't leak!!!


Sean said...

Try to arrange a cloudless day on July 25 for us, will ya? I'm still drying out the inside of my guitar case that was the vessel for the water coming off the easy-up tent last summer. Guess I should close the lid when playing...tho' I can't catch those nickels and dimes in it when it's closed.

ronnieroo said...

All this talk of adverse weather reminds me of this Australian poem i used to recite. Maybe you could set it to music Corm!


"We’ll all be rooned," said Hanrahan
In accents most forlorn
Outside the church ere Mass began
One frosty Sunday morn.

The congregation stood about,
Coat-collars to the ears,
And talked of stock and crops and drought
As it had done for years.

"It’s lookin’ crook," said Daniel Croke;
"Bedad, it’s cruke, me lad
For never since the banks went broke
Has seasons been so bad.

"It’s dry, all right," said young O’Neil,
With which astute remark
He squatted down upon his heel
And chewed a piece of bark.

And so around the chorus ran
"It’s keepin’ dry, no doubt."
"We’ll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
"Before the year is out.

"The crops are done; ye’ll have your work
To save one bag of grain;
From here way out to Back-O’-Bourke
They’re singin’ out for rain.

"They’re singin’ out for rain," he said,
"And all the tanks are dry."
The congregation scratched its head,
And gazed around the sky.

"There won’t be grass, in any case,
Enough to feed an ass;
There’s not a blade on Casey’s place
As I came down to Mass."

"If rain don’t come this month," said Dan,
And cleared his throat to speak –
"We’ll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, "
If rain don’t come this week."

A heavy silence seemed to steal
On all at this remark;
And each man squatted on his heel,
And chewed a piece of bark.

"We want an inch of rain, we do,"
O’Neil observed at last;
But Croke "maintained" we wanted two
To put the danger past.

"If we don’t get three inches, man,
Or four to break this drought,
We’ll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
"Before the year is out."

In God’s good time down came the rain;
And all the afternoon
On iron roof and window-pane
It drummed a homely tune.

And through the night it pattered still,
And lightsome, gladsome elves
On dripping spout and window-sill
Kept talking to themselves.

It pelted, pelted all day long,
A-singing at its work,
Till every heart took up the song
Way out to Back-O’-Bourke.

And every creek a banker ran,
And dams filled overtop;
"We’ll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
"If this rain doesn’t stop."

And stop it did, in God’s good time:
And spring came in to fold
A mantle o’er the hills sublime
Of green and pink and gold.

And days went by on dancing feet,
With harvest-hopes immense,
And laughing eyes beheld the wheat
Nid-nodding o’er the fence.

And, oh, the smiles on every face,
As happy lad and lass
Through grass knee-deep on Casey’s place
Went riding down to Mass.

While round the church in clothes genteel
Discoursed the men of mark,
And each man squatted on his heel,
And chewed his piece of bark.

"There’ll be bush-fires for sure, me man,
There will, without a doubt;
We’ll all be rooned," said Hanrahan,
"Before the year is out."

John O'Brien

Anonymous said...

"Hey Hey Corm, get out from under that cloud".

Mick J.

Anonymous said...

Rain Rain go away...bring Cormey back today!!
Where are you???????

Anonymous said...

Let a smile be your umbrella and get your teeth wet.

Bob Hope

Sean said...

Three months M.I.A.?!
We are filing in court to have this Blog officially pronounced "DEAD."
Where do we collect the insurance?