Upon arrival, I have to clean up the cottage. Open the windows wide, vacuum up spiders in the corner, and clean up after furry critters who make nests during the winter. More than a few curse words for the latter. Then comes scrubbing the deck with my dad’s boat brush. It’s a long morning, and I usually have two Tylenol and a glass of prosecco by noon.
This year, I brought my record player. I raided my Mom’s basement last night for my Dad’s old vinyl collection. I remember a lot of dixie and jazz growing up. I have no idea what I have, and I don’t think my Dad was a real collector since many of the records are greatest hits or things he got as part of record clubs (labelled “limited edition, not for sale,” which begs some questions). But he appreciated great music, and spent time in Philly in the 1950’s.
Here are some true standouts that kept me company while I cleaned this morning:
Happy music to clean by. Music carries on the lake. Perhaps my neighbors didn’t mind that I started at 5 am. But consider it payback for suffering through their 80’s rock.
Check them out here:
https://archive.org/details/RedNicholsCollection
https://archive.org/details/EddieCondonDixielandAllStars1939-1946