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Home of Michael Perry – Author, Humorist, Singer/Songwriter, Amateur Pig Farmer

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Archive for February, 2011

Thank You

Back home after another road swing that was filled with one kind face after another. Seeing some mud through the snow, which is a switch, mercury was below zero when I left.

Chickens out picking in the wind.

Tractor Oops

On page 225 of Coop, I refer to my father’s Massey-Ferguson 132. It was actually a 135. I am at a loss to explain this error, as I knew very well it was a 135, and have even referred to it as such in a video I did a long time before I wrote the book.

Anyway. Thanks to Dennis, who noted this.

Tent Show Radio Tonight – Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

If you’re within range of one of these stations tonight (Saturday, February 12th) we hope you’ll join Mike as he hosts another edition of Tent Show Radio from Big Top Chautauqua.

The musical guests will be the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, and in this episode’s monologue – delivered from the backstage dressing room with the one lonely little lightbulb burnin’ – Mike discusses banjo jokes and the joy of live performance.

Tent Show Radio Tomorrow – Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

If you’re within range of one of these stations tomorrow (Saturday, February 12th) we hope you’ll join Mike as he hosts another edition of Tent Show Radio from Big Top Chautauqua.

The musical guests will be the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, and in this episode’s monologue – delivered from the backstage dressing room with the one lonely little lightbulb burnin’ – Mike discusses banjo jokes and the joy of live performance.

Sausage

Full day of sausage-making yesterday with good pal Mills. He bought a new grinder, much more power, much more chest-puffing. Venison from the back yard plus pork from the local butcher (no home pigs this year due to book tour). Special Sicilian mixes (varying hot-nesses), a breakfast mix including fresh-ground nutmeg, and an Italian mix I did sorta like a jazz improvisation, shaking this herb and that herb. We’ll see. Oh, and lots of garlic, don’t approach too close.

The garlic courtesy of my wife’s dedication to the garden while I trundle hither and yon.

We were entertained throughout by the three-year-old who did a long-form cabaret involving countless costume changes. The show only stopped for nap, the occasional high-pitched fit, and that time she fell off her high-heeled plastic princess slippers.