Fourth of July 2013

From getting ready, to the parade, and music on the porch. As always, wishing I could clone myself so as to be able to simultaneously play music, cook, hostess, and photograph. A lovely day altogether, even managed to sneak in a swim. Thanks, Edgartown, for a great party, and many thanks to the friends who made the trip over and made the music on the porch great.






























This house on Morse Street was built when our country was only four years old.


Everyone's favorite summer officer: Neal Condlin.


Geno, Joe, and the colonel.


Margaret and April





Bill and Pat Black, over from Falmouth.


Mike











My favorite Yankee Doodle boy.


Ben





Lidia


Levi





Joan





Colonel Morgan, stepping lively at 92.


Skip


Our Sheriff
































Every good session eventually ends up in the kitchen.

Cement!

Having heard through the grapevine that it was cement-pouring day, we walked, post-rain, over to the Shurtleff homestead to watch the festivities.



A veritable feast for the eyes of a construction truck-obsessed two year-old.


Watching the new foundation being poured for his great-great-great-grandparents' former home.








Once the cement dries and cures the house will be rolled back across the yard onto its new foundation, close to its original location.


A vestige of gone-by days.


The daylilies are blooming; summer is here.

The Cement Mixer Song (for River, Ethan, and Shadow)

The cement mixer goes 'round and 'round,
The cement mixer goes 'round and 'round,
The cement mixer goes 'round and 'round,
Mixing up cement.

First we pour the powder in,
Then we add some sand,
Then we add the water,
And then we clap our hands (clap, clap!).

(Copyright 2013, Sara Piazza, All rights reserved.)

Irish Traditional Music in Edgartown

Long story short: in the early 1800s, my house, built by Capt. Alexander P. Weeks, was moved along two miles of dirt road to its present in-town location by a team of oxen. Upon its arrival, the ladies spread out a feast for the men, a fiddler was called, and a celebration ensued (in the midst of a May snowstorm, according to the Vineyard Gazette article). Growing up here, there was always music around the table, attended by friends, relatives, and neighbors. I have moved back to this wonderful house, returned to my roots, and it is my intention to continue the tradition that was begun on Day One: to fill this home with music and friends and family.

The inaugural 2013 Edgartown Irish trad session, the weekend of June 8&9, was lovely altogether. Looking forward to many more where this came from.

A Mother's Lament

A Poem by my mother, Alison Boylston Piazza:

A Mother's Lament

Water in puddles and gutters and such
Always appeals to small boys much too much,
But water can lose all its charms, it appears,
When well-mixed with soap and applied to the ears.