Annual Valentine Song Festival! Time In A Bottle, Jim Croce

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Love And Marriage, Frank Sinatra

Annual Valentine Song Festival! At Last, Etta James

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Fever, Peggy Lee

Annual Valentine Song Festival! The Old Songs, Barry Manilow

Annual Valentine Song Festival! These Foolish Things, Rudy Vallee

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Gentle On My Mind, Glenn Campbell

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Come Down My Evening Star, Joan Morris and William Bolcom

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Save The Last Dance For Me, The Drifters

Annual Valentine Song Festival: Smiles and Whispering....

The end of eras (Ragtime, pathetic ballads, minstrel songs), and the beginning of the Roaring Twenties. 

Smiles, Joseph C. Smith's Orchestra: 

Whispering, Paul Whiteman's Ambassador Orchestra:

My favorite recording of Whispering, The Comedian Harmonists:

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Oh Boy, Buddy Holly

Annual Valentine Song Festival! True Love Ways, Buddy Holly

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Passionate Kisses, Mary Chapin Carpenter

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Misty, Johny Mathis

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Bicycle Built For Two, Nat King Cole

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Crying, Roy Orbison

Annual Valentine Song Festival! When Will I See You Again? The Three Degrees

Many Thanks for the suggestion, John!

Annual Valentine Song Festival! It Had To Be You, Frank Sinatra

Annual Valentine Song Festival: Are You Lonesome Tonight? Elvis Presley

Burns' Birthday!

Robert W. Service wrote all kinds of poems. Sad poems, funny poems, thrilling and thoughtful poems. It is a crime that English teachers in the U.S. of A provide only a few samples of his work that he turned out during his time in the Yukon. Every year at this time, The Haggis of Private McPhee is running through my mind. It is a thrilling tale, and the experiences of McPhee and McPhun are all too real pictures of the Western Front. It might even bring a tear to your eyes. 

 The Haggis of Private McPhee

"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me?

It fair makes me hamesick," says Private McPhee.

"And whit did she send ye?" says Private McPhun,

As he cockit his rifle and bleezed at a Hun.

"A haggis! A HAGGIS!" says Private McPhee;

"The brawest big haggis I ever did see.

And think! it's the morn when fond memory turns

Tae haggis and whisky -- the Birthday o' Burns.

We maun find a dram; then we'll ca' in the rest

O' the lads, and we'll hae a Burns' Nicht wi' the best."

"Be ready at sundoon," snapped Sergeant McCole;

"I want you two men for the List'nin' Patrol."

Then Private McPhee looked at Private McPhun:

"I'm thinkin', ma lad, we're confoundedly done."

Then Private McPhun looked at Private McPhee:

"I'm thinkin' auld chap, it's a' aff wi' oor spree."

But up spoke their crony, wee Wullie McNair:

"Jist lea' yer braw haggis for me tae prepare;

And as for the dram, if I search the camp roun',

We maun hae a drappie tae jist haud it doon.

Sae rin, lads, and think, though the nicht it be black,

O' the haggis that's waitin' ye when ye get back."

My! but it wis waesome on Naebuddy's Land,

And the deid they were rottin' on every hand.

And the rockets like corpse candles hauntit the sky,

And the winds o' destruction went shudderin' by.

There wis skelpin' o' bullets and skirlin' o' shells,

And breengin' o' bombs and a thoosand death-knells;

But cooryin' doon in a Jack Johnson hole

Little fashed the twa men o' the List'nin' Patrol.

For sweeter than honey and bricht as a gem

Wis the thocht o' the haggis that waitit for them.

Yet alas! in oor moments o' sunniest cheer

Calamity's aften maist cruelly near.

And while the twa talked o' their puddin' divine

The Boches below them were howkin' a mine.

And while the twa cracked o' the feast they would hae,

The fuse it wis burnin' and burnin' away.

Then sudden a roar like the thunner o' doom,

A hell-leap o' flame . . . then the wheesht o' the tomb.

"Haw, Jock! Are ye hurtit?" says Private McPhun.

"Ay, Geordie, they've got me; I'm fearin' I'm done.

It's ma leg; I'm jist thinkin' it's aff at the knee;

Ye'd best gang and leave me," says Private McPhee.

"Oh leave ye I wunna," says Private McPhun;

"And leave ye I canna, for though I micht run,

It's no faur I wud gang, it's no muckle I'd see:

I'm blindit, and that's whit's the maitter wi' me."

Then Private McPhee sadly shakit his heid:

"If we bide here for lang, we'll be bidin' for deid.

And yet, Geordie lad, I could gang weel content

If I'd tasted that haggis ma auld mither sent."

"That's droll," says McPhun; "ye've jist speakit ma mind.

Oh I ken it's a terrible thing tae be blind;

And yet it's no that that embitters ma lot --

It's missin' that braw muckle haggis ye've got."

For a while they were silent; then up once again

Spoke Private McPhee, though he whussilt wi' pain:

"And why should we miss it? Between you and me

We've legs for tae run, and we've eyes for tae see.

You lend me your shanks and I'll lend you ma sicht,

And we'll baith hae a kyte-fu' o' haggis the nicht."

Oh the sky it wis dourlike and dreepin' a wee,

When Private McPhun gruppit Private McPhee.

Oh the glaur it wis fylin' and crieshin' the grun',

When Private McPhee guidit Private McPhun.

"Keep clear o' them corpses -- they're maybe no deid!

Haud on! There's a big muckle crater aheid.

Look oot! There's a sap; we'll be haein' a coup.

A staur-shell! For Godsake! Doun, lad, on yer daup.

Bear aff tae yer richt. . . . Aw yer jist daein' fine:

Before the nicht's feenished on haggis we'll dine."

There wis death and destruction on every hand;

There wis havoc and horror on Naebuddy's Land.

And the shells bickered doun wi' a crump and a glare,

And the hameless wee bullets were dingin' the air.

Yet on they went staggerin', cooryin' doun

When the stutter and cluck o' a Maxim crept roun'.

And the legs o' McPhun they were sturdy and stoot,

And McPhee on his back kept a bonnie look-oot.

"On, on, ma brave lad! We're no faur frae the goal;

I can hear the braw sweerin' o' Sergeant McCole."

But strength has its leemit, and Private McPhun,

Wi' a sab and a curse fell his length on the grun'.

Then Private McPhee shoutit doon in his ear:

"Jist think o' the haggis! I smell it from here.

It's gushin' wi' juice, it's embaumin' the air;

It's steamin' for us, and we're -- jist -- aboot -- there."

Then Private McPhun answers: "Dommit, auld chap!

For the sake o' that haggis I'll gang till I drap."

And he gets on his feet wi' a heave and a strain,

And onward he staggers in passion and pain.

And the flare and the glare and the fury increase,

Till you'd think they'd jist taken a' hell on a lease.

And on they go reelin' in peetifu' plight,

And someone is shoutin' away on their right;

And someone is runnin', and noo they can hear

A sound like a prayer and a sound like a cheer;

And swift through the crash and the flash and the din,

The lads o' the Hielands are bringin' them in.

"They're baith sairly woundit, but is it no droll

Hoo they rave aboot haggis?" says Sergeant McCole.

When hirplin alang comes wee Wullie McNair,

And they a' wonnert why he wis greetin' sae sair.

And he says: "I'd jist liftit it oot o' the pot,

And there it lay steamin' and savoury hot,

When sudden I dooked at the fleech o' a shell,

And it -- dropped on the haggis and dinged it tae hell."

And oh but the lads were fair taken aback;

Then sudden the order wis passed tae attack,

And up from the trenches like lions they leapt,

And on through the nicht like a torrent they swept.

On, on, wi' their bayonets thirstin' before!

On, on tae the foe wi' a rush and a roar!

And wild to the welkin their battle-cry rang,

And doon on the Boches like tigers they sprang:

And there wisna a man but had death in his ee,

For he thocht o' the haggis o' Private McPhee.

Annual Valentine Song Festival: I Only Want To Be With You, Nicolette Larson

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Stardust, Hoagy Carmichael

Annual Valentine Song Festival: Somebody To Love, Jefferson Airplane

Annual Valentine Song Festival! A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody, Rudy Vallee

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Everything That Glitters Is Not Gold, Dan Seals

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Love At The Five And Dime, Nanci Griffith

Annual Valentine Song Festival: Blue Eyes, Elton John

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Lovesick Blues, Hank Williams

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Ain't We Got Fun!

 In 1921 the Twenties weren't quite roaring yet. This song held up for many years, but I doubt that Millenials have even heard of it. Our shellac copy sounds a bit better than this record, but it does have lots of honest wear. The favorites were played hard and they didn't necessarily get a new needle for every play.

Annual Valentine Song Festival! You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You, Dean Martin

Annual Valentine Song Festival! Ukulele Lady, Vaughn DeLeath

Annual Valentine Song Festival! I Can't Help Falling In Love With You, Arlo Guthrie and the University of Kentucky Orchestra

The annual True Blue Sam Valentine Festival begins right here!

Weak Point In A Ruger Single Action?

This may be it. The little round rod you see is the Hammer Plunger. It has a spring behind it in the hammer, and a relieved area on the side so it remains captured by the little pin you see in the hammer. This plunger pushes forward on the backside of the Cylinder Latch when you draw the hammer back, which lowers the front end of the latch, allowing the cylinder to turn. The Plunger is pushed upward into the hammer as the hammer drops, and then it pops back to the limit of the relieved area against the little pin when it is at rest.  The plunger broke on a Single Six I had in the mid-1970's, and I saw this repeated on a friend's Single Six a year or two later. It was easy to replace by using a drill bit shank cut to length, and then filing the side where the pin rides.

If this breaks in your revolver you cannot operate the action normally. The cylinder latch is not moved when you try to cock the gun, and it is jammed up as the hand tries to rotate the cylinder. I think you could make the gun work by opening the gate, rotating the cylinder so it is unlatched, closing the gate, and then cocking the hammer. The important thing for you to do if this happens is to turn the gun upside down and catch the bottom of the Hammer Plunger. You will need it when you make your new piece so you can make the length right. I haven't had this problem again for over forty years, but I sure have not forgotten it. A prudent person would probably order a few of these plungers just in case one is needed.

The Importance Of Branch Angles

"See Good Trees" is my motto when doing improvement work in timber. Look for the good ones and get rid of trees competing with them. For timber growers, a good tree has a straight stem, good natural pruning, a wide healthy crown, and no forks or tight branch angles with included bark. This red maple demonstrates the danger of forks and tight branch angles. Trees like this one tend to be damaged by wind and ice.

Do we need to get rid of this tree now? We can utilize it for firewood, but currently we are covered up in dead ash trees, and those need to be harvested before we go after a live tree. Is it interfering with a good crop tree? If not, just leave it for the time being.  Rot is going to work its way down the stem, but there will still be a good log for ten or fifteen years. You can also leave a tree like this to serve as a wildlife tree. That break will work as a good nesting site, and possibly a den. 

 

Here's a bad fork with included bark and rot progressing.

Another bad fork with hidden bark included, but sound on top.

This one is a sound fork with both wood and bark where they should be. A fork is the top end of merchantability for sawtimber. You need a minimum of 8' 6" for a hardwood log to be merchantable. If a tree forks below that it will never go to the sawmill. 

This is a good branch angle with the limb going back all the way to the pith. The tighter the branching angle, the more likely bark will be trapped between the limb and the stem.

Dolly Parton: Hard Candy Christmas