Quote:
Originally posted by marc in maine:
Cathy, When I was a kid I used to go up your way at least once a year to visit my grandparents in Saint Quentin, NB. Unforgettable farm country! potato barns! and the smells of that earth are heavenly! We'd take Rt 1 to Mars Hill, Fort Fairfield, Limestone and on to Van Buren. Stop at customs and grab some liquor and cigarettes. Rt. 17 to Saint Quentin was wild country. Coyote, fox and bobcat were seen often. My fondest memories are listening to the jigs in the kitchen till after midnight. Local relatives popping in and out. My father, his mandolin, uncle from Rimouski, his fiddle, grandfather blew the torpedo, uncle, the spoons, grandmother getting everybody else off their can and on the floor. We laughed and teased all night long! Lord, I wish I could relive those days!! My appreciation for music feeds off of those times. I really need to start learning to play an instrument(s), at least for the sake of my family. Do you or anyone else have memories to inspire you to music?
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Oh yes, all kinds of memories. My mother's side of the family was a very musical bunch. Every one of them played at least one stringed instrument. They'd gather at our house every Friday or Saturday evening, and a big jam session would go on for hours and hours. My uncle Sonny played banjo, fiddle, mandolin, guitar and harmonica. Mom played dobro. Jim played a Les Paul. My grandparents also joined in on guitar. It went on until the wee hours of morning, with people stopping in at all hours of the night. That's mainly what got me interested in playing the guitar, and by age 8 or 9, I could pretty well keep up with them. It's really one of my favorite childhood memories.
I know all the towns you mentioned... except San Quentin. I'll have to look on a New Brunswick map.