Posts Tagged ‘talking’
Here’s a bit more of a description:
“Gus and Me: The Story of My Granddad and My First Guitar is a “rare and intimate look” into his early years.”
I’d read it. Here’s a bit more from the BBC:
Richards was introduced to music by his grandfather, jazz musician Theodore Augustus Dupree.
It will be published as a hardback and ebook later this year.
“I have just become a grandfather for the fifth time, so I know what I’m talking about,” said Richards.
“The bond, the special bond, between kids and grandparents is unique and should be treasured. This is a story of one of those magical moments. May I be as great a grandfather as Gus was to me.”
That’s nice. Isn’t that nice? Good ol’ Keith.
Here’s a video of Keith onstage in Abu Dubai in February of 2014. He’s still got it, fans still love him… grandpa Richards was wise to introduce lil’ Keith to the geetar.
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The farm share. I’ve mentioned it before, and every year I say I’ll be better about dealing with the vegetables right away. Because if I don’t, they go bad.
And I do. Do better, that is. But I need to do better better.
Admittedly, it’s kind of a pain. I know. Call the wahhhbulance.
Which is why I’m saying I need to do better than I am, even though I’m doing better than I was before. You don’t want rotting vegetables. It’s wasteful. Besides, I need to eat my vegetables.
In case you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, here’s the deal: a box of vegetables shows up at my door once a week. Also fruit. You never know what you’re going to get. (Sorry, Forrest, it’s not chocolate.) So far this season I only had to look up one item, kohlrabi. That said, it can be daunting to look at a big box of farm-fresh stuff that needs to be washed, cooked, and stored.
All together now — wahhhh.
Here’s another wahhhhbulance clip. (The Internet seems to spell it “wambulance”, but I prefer the extra h’s.)
I do better with the winter farm shares, which tend to be mostly root vegetables. Carrots? Easy. Even the kids will eat those. Brussel sprouts? I’m the only one who will eat them but they’re easy to cook (roast ’em with some olive oil, a little salt and pepper), healthy, and whatever I don’t eat right away I can freeze.
Gooseberries? Not my thing. I don’t bake. I suppose I could learn, but it’s not high on my list. I could probably put the berries in a salad. Or eat them plain. If I ever get them again. Because sadly, I waited too long, and the gooseberries gave up the ghost.
Again, to be clear — wasting food is a bad thing. I’m a little embarrassed to be talking about this. I don’t waste it all. Just… some of it.
Next time I get gooseberries, I’ll wash ’em right away.
This kid is the greatest.
You should never, ever — EVER — ask a toddler to say “truck.”