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Last week after the contra dance the resident blacksmith invited us down to his shop to listen to This American Life. "Bring something to do with your hands," he said, so a bunch of us trooped down and sat around his blacksmith shop knitting, sipping microbrews, and listening to Ira Glass talk about job creation. I mean, resident blacksmith. C' ( Read more... )

It's a funny place, this folk school. It's only my first week, and already I'm enjoying the fine line between folky-crafty-delightful and over the top ridiculousness. I have no computer, and have to bum use of someone's laptop, so don't expect lots of updates. But, so far I have ( Read more... )

When I had a job timber-framing in the Smokies, every Friday night during the summer, we'd pack into the 12-seater utility van and trundle off over the mountains to join the Campbell Folk School community for a bluegrass concert and contra dance. After, there would be an informal bluegrass jam at the local gas station, circles of mustachioed men ( Read more... )