All my life I've written poems or songs to commemorate occasions or protest (usually political) grievances. I usually used some old standard tune to set the lyrics to. In the 90's I began to form my own melodies, more or less in a folk style, and wrote songs about my world. Songs were easier when the lyrics and melody came into my head at the same time. It was much more difficult to develop a tune to match an already written poem. Some tunes and words arrived in my mind while driving down the road and I'd have to repeat them in my head until I got somewhere where I could write them down. Other melodies came in the middle of the night. I'd get up, get as far away from the bedroom as I could so I wouldn't disturb my sleeping husband, and quickly record them on a cassette so they didn't disappear into dream land. And then there were some songs that were forgotten before they had a chance to be remembered.
Only a small portion of my songs have been professionally recorded. I've been pulling some of the others out lately, working with my mandolin to bring them to life. All the snow we had in April reminded me of one I called Cloudy Winter Blues - "There is no sunlight to drive away my blues, there is no moonlight, reminding me of you..."
The poems that never found their tune have simply been tucked away. From time to time I'll put one in my blog, because, well, because they say something - about me, my family, my lifestyle, random thoughts... just because.
When you've made a choice to live on the land, and maybe even when you're born to it, you wonder at times... did we do the best thing, are we where we should be?
The Ballad of Sal and Sam
What're we doing out here Sam? What're we doing out here?
The money's tight, the work is hard. What're we doing out here?
The city folks have got it made, they have much more than we,
Holidays, consumer goods, and some security.
What're we doing out here Sam? We have no common sense!
Ask me another time Sal, I gotta go fix the fence.
Resting in the Sunday sun with all their family-
Their son and wife, the grandkids too, were up from Calgary.
Janice came from Pincher Creek, the kids were climbing trees.
The dogs were sleeping peacefully, there was a gentle breeze.
What're we doing out here Sal? I've got it figured out.
Our farm, our home, our family, it's what life's all about.
We're king and queen of our own land, our kids grew strong and free.
They learned first hand from this small farm - responsibility.
What're we doing out here Sal? We're living on the land.
Don't ask such silly questions Sal, I'm glad to be your man.
...........................
What're we doing out here Sal? What're we doing out here?
The farm can't make a living Sal, what're we doing out here?
If I had me a city job we'd have a good pay check,
Retirement, dental, glasses plan - not like this farm by heck!
What're we doing out here Sal? It's never enough it seems!
Ask me another time Sam, I gotta go pick the beans.
Sam and Sal stood side by side beneath the springtime moon,
They talked about their daughter's plans to wed in early June.
They listened to the cattle call, 'twas answered by a loon,
A symphony of critter sounds produced a country tune.
What're we doing out here Sam? I got it figured out.
Living close to nature Sam, that's what life's all about.
A man-made world of steel and stone controlled by a machine,
The stress and speed of city life would spoil all our dreams.
What're we doing out here Sam? We're living a good life.
Don't ask such silly questions Sam, I'm glad to be your wife.
written in May of 1999, Lynn Tipton
