Songs of the Sea & Fo’castle

Fiddler’s Green

~Written by John Connelly

The American Folk Experience

Fiddler's Green

by John Connelly (1970) | The American Folk Experience

~Traditional

As I roved by the dockside on evening so rare
To view the still waters and take the salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing this song
O take me away boys my time is not long

Dress me up in me oilskin and jumper
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates
I’m taking a trip, mates
And I’ll see them someday in Fiddler’s Green

Now Fiddler’s Green is a place I’ve heard tell
Where fishermen go when they don’t go to Hell
Where the weather is fair and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away

The sky’s always clear and there’s never a gale
And the fish jump on board with a flip of their tail
You can lie at your leisure, there’s no work to do
And the skipper’s below making tea for the crew

And when you’re in dock and the long trip is thru
There’s pubs and there’s clubs, and there’s lassies there too
Now the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there’s bottles of rum hanging from every tree

I don’t want a harp or a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
And I’ll play me old squeeze box as we sail along
When the wind’s in the rigging to sing me this song

If you have any more information to share about this song or helpful links, please post as a comment. Thanks for stopping by the site! ~John Fitz

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

I am indebted to the many friends who share my love of traditional songs and to the many scholars whose works are too many to include here. I am also incredibly grateful to the collector’s curators and collators of Wikipedia, Mudcat.org, MainlyNorfolk.info, and TheContemplator.com for their wise, thorough and informative contributions to the study of folk music. 

I share this scholarly research on my site with humility, thanks, and gratitude. Please cite sources accordingly with your own research. If you have any research or sites you would like to share on this site, please post in the comment box.  

Thanks!

 

Source: Wikipedia

Fiddler's Green is an afterlife where there is perpetual mirth, a fiddle that never stops playing, and dancers who never tire. In 19th-century English maritime folklore, it served as an afterlife for sailors who had served at least fifty years at sea.[1][2][3]

In literature

Not all early mentions of Fiddler's Green are positive. For example, Edward Rose's The Sea-Devil, or, Son of a Bellows-Mender (1811) has the following dialogue:[4]

"a seaman never goes to hell—Fiddler's green is the tar's mooring-ground." "And where is Fiddler's green?" [...] "'tis the half-way house. A rare place sure enough, where Old Nick is employed to mix hot grog for sailors."

and a description published in a number of magazines around 1825:[5]

We are informed that there is in the other world, a place prepared for maids and bachelors called Fiddler's Green, where they are condemned, for the lack of good fellowship in this world, to dance together to all eternity.

More positively, Fiddler's Green is mentioned in Frederick Marryat's novel Snarleyyow; or, The Dog Fiend (1837), in a sailors' song with the chorus:[6]

At Fidler's Green, where seamen true,
    When here they've done their duty,
The bowl of grog shall still renew,
    And pledge to love and beauty.

George John Whyte-Melville gives an account of Fiddler's Green in Cerise (1866) envisioning it as a land flowing with rum and lime juice accompanied by 'perpetual music, mirth, dancing, drinking, and tobacco'.[7]

Herman Melville describes a Fiddler's Green as a sailors' term for the place on land "providentially set apart for dance-houses, doxies, and tapsters" in his posthumous novella Billy Budd, Sailor.

In Patrick O'Brian's novel Post Captain (1972), the character Jack Aubrey describes several seamen living together on land by saying, "We'll lay in beer and skittles – it will be Fiddler's Green!".

In Neil Gaiman's The Sandman comic book series, Fiddler's Green is a place located inside of the Dreaming, a place that sailors have dreamed of for centuries. Fiddler's Green is also personified as a character as well as a location in the fictional world, the former largely based upon casual associations of G. K. Chesterton. In the 2022 TV adaption of the books, the personification is played by Stephen Fry. From November 12 to 14, 2004, a comic book convention promoted as "Fiddler's Green, A Sandman Convention" was held at the Millennium Hotel in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Author Neil Gaiman and several Sandman series artists, and others involved in the series' publication, participated in the convention, with profits benefiting the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund.

Fiddler's Green is an extrasolar colony mentioned in Robert A. Heinlein's novels Friday (1982) and The Cat Who Walks Through Walls (1985).

Title names

Fiddler's Green is the title of a 1950 novel by Ernest K. Gann, about a fugitive criminal who works as a seaman after stowing away.[8] The author Richard McKenna wrote a story, first published in 1967, titled "Fiddler's Green,” in which he considers the power of the mind to create a reality of its own choosing, especially when a number of people consent to it. The main characters in this story are also sailors, and have known of the legend of Fiddler's Green for many years.[9] It is also the title of the last book of Richard Woodman's history of the British Merchant Navy.[10]

In music

In art

In film

In the United States military

The Cavalrymen's Poem, also entitled "Fiddlers' Green" was published in the US Army's Cavalry Journal in 1923 and became associated with the 1st Cavalry Division.[17]

Halfway down the trail to Hell,
In a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead Troopers camped,
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddlers' Green.

Marching past, straight through to Hell
The Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers' Green.

Though some go curving down the trail
To seek a warmer scene,
No trooper ever gets to Hell
Ere he's emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink again
With friends at Fiddlers' Green.
 
And so when man and horse go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge fierce melee
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head
and go to Fiddlers' Green.

The name has had other military uses. Many places associated with the US military have been named Fiddler's Green:[18]

See also

References

  1. ↑ Eyers, Jonathan (March 1, 2012). Don't Shoot the Albatross!: Nautical Myths and Superstitions. London: A&C Black. ISBN 978-1-4081-3131-2..
  2. ↑ "The Sailor's magazine, and naval journal – American Seamen's Friend Society". Life on the Ocean. February 1898. p. 168. Retrieved October 14, 2011.
  3. ↑ Hotten, John Camden (1859). A Dictionary of Modern Slang, Cant, and Vulgar Words. Kessinger. ISBN 978-1164343998. {{cite book}}: ISBN / Date incompatibility (help)
  4. ↑ Rose, Edward (1811). The Sea-Devil, or, Son of a Bellows-Mender. Plymouth-Dock: J. Roach. pp. 24–25.
  5. ↑ "Bachelor's elysium". New York Mirror. Vol. 3, no. 2. August 6, 1825. p. 10.
  6. ↑ Marryat, Frederick (1837). "Chapter IX". Snarleyyow; or, The Dog Fiend. Philadelphia: E. L. Carey and A. Hart. hdl:2027/hvd.hweec5.
  7. ↑ Melville (1866). Cerise: A Tale of the Last Century. Tauchnitz. p. 225.
  8. ↑ Gann, Ernest K. (1950). Fiddler's Green. William Sloane Association.
  9. ↑ McKenna, Richard (1976). Casey Agonistes and Other Science Fiction and Fantasy Stories. London: Pan Books. ISBN 978-0330248259.
  10. ↑ Woodman, Richard (2010). Fiddler's Green. History Press. ISBN 978-0-7524-4822-0.
  11. ↑ When a Loose Cannon Flogs a Dead Horse There's the Devil to Pay: Seafaring Words in Everyday Speech by Olivia A. Isil
  12. ↑ "The Irish Rovers – Upon A Shamrock Shore Songs Of Ireland And The Irish". Discogs. Archived from the original on February 23, 2020. Retrieved February 23, 2020.
  13. ↑ Blood, Peter; Patterson, Annie, eds. (1988). Rise Up Singing. Bethlehem, Pennsylvania: Sing Out!. p. 201. ISBN 1-881322-12-2. O Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell, where fishermen go if they don't go to hell
  14. ↑ Rudnick, Natasha (August 19, 2016). "The Tragically Hip: 10 Essential Songs - "Fiddler's Green" (1991)". Rolling Stone.
  15. ↑ Fiddlers' Green (September 28, 2019). "Bounding Main". Bounding Main. Retrieved February 29, 2024.
  16. ↑ David Morton (April 21, 2021). "The North Shields memorial to lost fishermen - how the striking statue was created". Chronicle Live. Reach plc. Retrieved September 22, 2022.
  17. ↑ "Fiddler's Green and other Cavalry Songs by JHS". Cavalry Journal. April 1923.
  18. ↑ Axelrod, Alan (March 5, 2013), Weird War: Curious Military Trivia, Union Square, p. 49, ISBN 978-1-4351-4485-9
  19. ↑ Curry, Judi (July 29, 2019). "Restaurant Review: Fiddler's Green on Shelter Island in Point Loma". OB Rag. Retrieved July 13, 2020.

Further reading

source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiddler%27s_Green

Source: Mainly Norfolk

Fiddler’s Green

[ Roud – ; Ballad Index FR439 ; John Conolly]

This sentimental song is so ubiquitous that many people believe it is a traditional song. But it was written in 1966 by John Conolly.

Tim Hart and Maddy Prior recorded Fiddler’s Green in 1969 for their second duo album Folk Songs of Old England Vol. 2. The record’s sleeve notes comment:

Written by John Conolly, this is a fine example of the work of this singer/song-writer from Grimsby describing the fisherman’s Utopian concept of the after-life.

Aly Bain and Mike Whellans sang Fiddler’s Green in 1971 on their Trailer album Aly Bain & Mike Whellans and in 1975 on the Trailer anthology Our Folk Music Heritage.

The Clancy Brothers with Louis Killen sang Fiddler’s Green in 1972 on their LP Show Me the Way.

Archie Fisher and Barbara Dickson sang Fiddler’s Green in 1971 on their Decca album Thro’ the Recent Years.

Filey Fishermen’s Harmony Group sang Fiddler’s Green on the 1985 anthology Sounds of Yorkshire: A Musical Souvenir of Yorkshire and Humberside.

John Conolly sang his own song on his and Pete Sumner’s Fellside CD of 1998, Trawlertown, and on the Fellside’s anthology Flash Company: A Celebration of 25 Years of Fellside Records (1976-2001). Paul Adams commented in the latter album’s notes:

John is the most unlikely writer of a hit song I know. It depends on how you define “hit”. There was a time in the 70s when you would hear this song sung every week in just about every folk club in the country. One of its great accolades is that people think it is traditional—doesn’t do much for John’s bank balance, though. It has been recorded numerous times. There are even Fiddler’s Green festivals. Look out for Fiddler’s Green slippers, mouse-pads and woolly hats.

And here John Conolly with Bill Whaley and Dave Fletcher sings Fiddler’s Green at Faldingworth Live:

Jon Boden sang Fiddler’s Green as the February 26, 2011 entry of his project A Folk Song a Day. He noted in his blog:

One of those songs that conveniently became traditional only a few years after being written! I understand John Connolly is gradually recouping some of his lost royalties. Quite right too—a fabulous song.

Lyrics

Sorry, I can’t show the lyrics here as I don’t have the copyright owners’ permission to publish them. But please feel free and ask me to send you the song’s lyrics.

Listen to The Dubliner’s perform Fiddler’s Green…

 

Performances, Workshops, Resources & Recordings

The American Folk Experience is dedicated to collecting and curating the most enduring songs from our musical heritage.  Every performance and workshop is a celebration and exploration of the timeless songs and stories that have shaped and formed the musical history of America. John Fitzsimmons has been singing and performing these gems of the past for the past forty years, and he brings a folksy warmth, humor and massive repertoire of songs to any occasion. 

Festivals & Celebrations Coffeehouses School Assemblies Library Presentations Songwriting Workshops Artist in Residence House Concerts Pub Singing Irish & Celtic Performances Poetry Readings Campfires Music Lessons Senior Centers Voiceovers & Recording

““Beneath the friendly charisma is the heart of a purist gently leading us from the songs of our lives to the timeless traditional songs he knows so well…”

 

Globe Magazine

Join Fitz at The Colonial Inn

“The Nobel Laureate of New England Pub Music…”

Scott Alaric

Adventures in the Modern Folk Underground

On the Green, in Concord, MA Every Thursday Night for over thirty years…

“A Song Singing, Word Slinging, Story Swapping, Ballad Mongering, Folksinger, Teacher, & Poet…”

Theo Rogue

Songcatcher Rag

Fitz’s Recordings

& Writings

Songs, poems, essays, reflections and ramblings of a folksinger, traveler, teacher, poet and thinker…

Download for free from the iTunes Bookstore

Now Available on iTunes!

“A Master of Folk…”

The Boston Globe

Fitz’s now classic recording of original songs and poetry…

Download from the iTunes Music Store

Now Available on iTunes!

“A Masterful weaver of song whose deep, resonant voice rivals the best of his genre…”

Spirit of Change Magazine

“2003: Best Children’s Music Recording of the Year…”

Boston Parent's Paper

Fitz & The Salty Dawgs Amazing music, good times and good friends…

Listen here

TheCraftedWord.org

Writing help

when you need it…

“When the eyes rest on the soul…that’s Fitzy…”

Lenny Megliola

WEEI Radio

The Fisher

by | July 14, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

To cast far is to cast well. I’ve always believed that the biggest fish are just beyond my range and lie in dark water I could never swim to. But experience is the wisdom that has me now casting closer to shore, nearest the reeds and overgrowth — a subtleness geared...
Read More

The Old Tote Road

by | July 25, 2019 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

I clabber down the old tote road towards the red pine forest, leaning on my staff, skirting boulder-strewn ruts and small gullies carved out by two days of heavy rain. It is only a mile or so from our cabin, still, my wife makes me wear a pouch with an iPhone and an...
Read More

The Inn

by | December 17, 2015 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

        I realized that in all my years of writing and journal keeping, I seldom, if ever, write about "The Inn," which is and has been, the biggest and most enduring constant in my life for the past thirty plus years. Every Thursday night I load up my car, truck, bus...
Read More

Wisdom

by | May 13, 2016 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

Wisdom starts in non-action… The doing and non-doing are the equal balance. Without the luxury of contemplation there would not be a prioritizing of need versus want. Wisdom balances physical reality… Wisdom does not shuffle tasks out of view but finds a way to...
Read More

The Litter in Concord

by | July 12, 2016 | Journal | 0 Comments

I have been following a Facebook thread about the movement in my beloved hometown of Concord to ban plastic water bottles, plastic bags and styrofoam cups. I am trying to discern whether or not my initial responses are pure and true and not simply reactionary and...
Read More

Fenn Speaks…

by | May 11, 2019 | Essays, Journal, Poetry, Teaching | 0 Comments

I am You, and You are me... Give a damn & figure it out        I feel like one of my students: it’s the night before my big presentation at All-school-meeting, and I still don’t know what I am going to talk about. I just know I am supposed to talk about me......
Read More

Waiting for a Poem

by | August 8, 2014 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

  It’s not like a poem to come curl by my feet on this morning too beautiful to describe, though I am looking and listening and waiting: A rooster crows above the low hum of morning traffic; the trash truck spills air from brakes and rattles empties into bins; my...
Read More

China Journal: Part One

by | July 23, 2015 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

I           The dull staccato throb in light rain on a dark night. Unseen barges make their way up the QianTian River—concrete shores marked by the arch of the bridge, the spans of beam stretched on beam, the impeccable symmetry of the street-lights broken by a stream...
Read More

Goathouse

by | July 12, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

In reaching for the scythe I’m reminded of the whetstone and the few quick strokes by which it was tested— the hardness of hot August; the burning of ticks off dog backs. It’s winter now in this garage made barn, and the animals seem only curious that I’d be here so...
Read More

Goathouse

by | May 23, 2014 | Poetry, Raccoon | 0 Comments

Goat house In reaching for the scythe I’m reminded of the whetstone and the few quick strokes by which it was tested-- the hardness of hot August; the burning of ticks off dog backs. It’s winter now in this garage made barn, and the animals seem only curious that I’d...
Read More

The Late and Lazy Teacher

by | May 1, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

I guess this is a good thing. I showed up five minutes late for class, and my classroom was empty. I walked the hallways of the school and could not find any of them. I sheepishly asked the assistant headmaster if he "happened to see a class of wandering boys?"No, he...
Read More

Thanksgiving

by | November 28, 2013 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

I am surprised sometimes by the suddenness of November: beauty abruptly shed to a common nakedness— grasses deadened by hoarfrost, persistent memories of people I’ve lost. It is left to those of us dressed in the hard barky skin of experience to insist on a decorum...
Read More

Dallas: 7/7/2016

by | July 8, 2016 | Journal | 0 Comments

I woke up this morning almost too fearful to read the news. I stayed up late into the night just watching for the breaking stories and updates. Now, I am simplyconfused about how to act. I feel incredibly small and pointless, unsure of where I stand and how to move...
Read More

Crows & Swallows Release

by | October 21, 2017 | Journal | 0 Comments

There is seldom a red-carpet celebration when a book of poetry is released, so I will keep this a quiet and humble affair. My newest book of poetry, “Crows & Swallows” is now on iBooks, so fresh you can almost smell the ink. My business model is unchanged: It is a...
Read More

A Redemptive Moment

by | November 15, 2013 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

I see the clock ticking towards 7:00. The kids are deep in their weekday world of homework, juggling soccer balls around the house, watching TV, but I am in my “got to rally” and get to the inn mode that happens very Thursday. Tonight I am tired. I’ll admit it, but...
Read More

Me & God

by | April 9, 2018 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

        I am not done with God, nor God with me. I remain obsessed with the notion of the unmoved mover who set the pattern of creation into its initial motion. I stubbornly try to trace my existence back to some infinite beginning—so much so that I loathe the...
Read More

The Nagging Thing

by | November 19, 2015 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

Not many more nights like this, warm enough to sit outside on the back porch. The kids and Denise long asleep. Usually, during the school year, this is my "time" to catch up on schoolwork--grading, posting the assignments for the week and playing the general catchup...
Read More

On Writing with Rubrics

by | May 2, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

The only way out is through... Damn! Another long post... For better and worse--and through thick and thin--I keep piling on rubric after rubric to help guide the content, flow, and direction of my students' writing pieces.  The greater irony is that I never set out...
Read More

How To Be Human

by | July 24, 2015 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

Mark Twain once wrote that it is good to be a good person, but it is better to tell people how to be good--"and a damn sight easier!" So much of my life is lived in response to the moment and not in a practiced and cultivated wisdom. I sat here this morning looking...
Read More

Redefining Literacy

by | August 8, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

 My life is the poem I could have writ, But I could not both live and utter it ~Henry David Thoreau    The common man goes to an orchard to taste the fruit. The rich man man learns how to plant his own orchard. The poet, however,  grows an even better fruit and gives...
Read More

The Gift Unclaimed

by | February 27, 2018 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

I have an old lobster buoy Hanging dully from A wrought-iron basket hook— A rough cutaway Filled with suet, Clabbered in wire mesh. . I had imagined chickadees Squabbling with angry jays And occasional sparrows, finches— Maybe even cedar waxwings tired of scrounging...
Read More

The Tide

by | August 31, 2014 | Poetry | 0 Comments

They are building a world and the plastic is fading: Margaret and Eddie's buckets are split, pouring out the warm Atlantic as they race along the tidal flat, filling pools connected by frantically dug canals. Tommy squats naked and screams in guttural joy at the...
Read More

A New Beginning

by | November 10, 2013 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

 I guess if there is any constant in my life, it is new beginnings.  This blog--and this website--is another new beginning starting here late on a cold night on my back porch. I've been keeping a blog (in fact several blogs) since the first blogs made their way on to...
Read More

Make Something out of Something

by | February 26, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

It's hard to make chicken salad out of chicken manure      Dirty hands are a good sign, so hopefully, you got some mental mud on your hands and created some content to work with today.  To a starving man, any food is good food--unless it...
Read More

In the unfolding chores

by | July 7, 2017 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

The day sometimes slip away from me, a huge pine half-bucked in the backyard, the kids old tree fort cut into slabs, a ton of coal waiting to be moved in a train of buckets to the bin. Sipping cold water on the back deck I hear Emma rustling for soccer cleats and...
Read More

A Late Night Metacognition

by | April 13, 2014 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after ~Henry David Thoreau           When you need something done, find a busy person to help you get it done. My mother loved repeating that to me all the way to her dying day,...
Read More

The End Is the Beginning

by | September 2, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

For the past twenty years this night has always been a bittersweet moment. I have never been hobbled by boredom or a lack of "things I love to do," so whatever supposed free time I have is rewarding in whatever I choose to do. The flip side is that I am teacher, and I...
Read More

The Enigma

by | August 11, 2014 | Journal, Poetry | 0 Comments

Black Pond is not as deepas it is dark, dammedsome century agobetween ledges of granite and an outcropping of leaning fir, huckleberry, and white pine. For years I have paddled and trolled;swam, fished, sailed and sometimessimply tread water in the night trying to...
Read More

Joshua Sawyer Podcast

by | November 11, 2017 | Fitz Podcasts, Journal | 0 Comments

Read More

No Dad To Come Home To

by | August 26, 2014 | Dawghouse, Songs | 0 Comments

Rain’s falling outside of Boston—
Thank God I’m not working tonight.
I’ve got six of my own,
And a stepdaughter at home,
And a momma keeping things right.
I wonder if they’re at the table
With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
When I get off the highway
And pull in that driveway,
Will they run to the window again?

Read More

Garden Woman

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

I woke today and had my tea
and at the window spent the morning:
the same scene I’ve seen so many times
is each day freshly born;
from the ground I turn each spring and fall
come the flowers sweetly blooming;
you disappear among the weeds—
you are the garden woman.

Read More

Ready. Set. Go.

by | April 7, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

Who forgets to rinse his hair? Me, I guess, for that was the start of my day. I smelled something like coconut oil on my way to school, and then I realized, dang, my hair is still pretty wet. Wet with hair conditioner. And then I get sot school all coconutty smelling...
Read More

Presenting…

by | February 3, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

"Anything worth succeeding in, is worth failing in."~by Edison?      A contractor friend showed up at my house a few weeks ago just after I finished making the hearth and installing my new wood/coal stove. He complimented me on how "awesome" it looked. I then lamented...
Read More

Zenmo Yang Ni

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

I lost the time I hardly knew you,
half-assed calling:
“How you doing?
Laughing at my hanging hay field;
I never knew the time
that tomorrow’d bring,
until it brung to me.

Yuan lai jui shuo: “Zenmoyang ni?”
Xianzai chang shu: “Dou hai keyi”;
Xiexie nimen, dou hen shang ni.
Xiwang wo men dou hen leyi
Dou hen leyi

Read More

Searching for an Alibi

by | August 12, 2014 | Fires in the Belly, Songs | 0 Comments

Here I am out on the road again
and it feels longer than it was back then;
when I was younger, man, it saw me through—
now it don’t do
what I want it to—

Too ra loo ra loo ra lady I—
I’m just out searching for an alibi
Too ra loo ra loo ra lady I
I’m just out searching for an alibi.

Read More

The Inn

by | November 21, 2013 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

Every Thursday, for some thirty years, I have been spending this same time each week wrapping up the loose ends of the day before heading down to the inn to play to whomever and whatever shows up. Tonight looks like a fun night: Maroghini will be with me for his last...
Read More

Wrenching Day

by | July 13, 2017 | Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

It has certainly been a long time since wisdom ruled the day. I did get up and run in the rain, and now I am preparing to do some “wrenching” on my motorcycle. I am trying to temper my eagerness to ride with my desire to get everything “right” on the bike--without...
Read More

Rainmaker

by | August 28, 2014 | Essays, Journal | 0 Comments

I loved the rain last night. Last week, in a bow to reality, I reclaimed my gardens and made them into yard. Four of my kids got poison ivy in the process and I (and more "they") got an extra ten feet of width to add to the soccer field--for really that is about the...
Read More

Once Burned. Twice Shy.

by | April 6, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

Just because no one understands you,  it doesn’t mean you are an artist ~Bumper Sticker        I sometimes wonder why when you give a group of teenagers a video camera, the first impulse is to shoot something stupid. It’s as if there is some jackass switch...
Read More

A Perfect Mirror

by | February 11, 2014 | Essays, Journal, Teaching | 0 Comments

Do not mistake the finger pointing at the moon for the moon itself~BuddhaLast night you were so lucky. You didn't have to worry about your grumpy, tired teacher going through hours of journals ands doling out poor grades for what I am sure qualifies for good efforts...
Read More

Contact John Fitzsimmons...and thanks!