Cleaning out a nasty box at my little cottage in Louisiana after a great Mardi Gras weekend - before heading home to Ft. Worth.
It's no wonder that I am drawn to my home state with its glorious music. I grew up waking up to Lawrence Welk, Al Hirt, and any number of artists, if not my own father on his trumpet, cornet, clarinet, banjo or whatever his instrument of the day would be. How I wish that musical inclination would be the trait that I inherited from him!
Just a few of the many cylinder records and albums that I have unearthed this morning. Perhaps not a treasure of monetary value, but certainly a treasure trove of memories!