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Friday I furnished medical transportation for a friend and was treated to lunch.  Back at home some of the linen strips got sewn up for camera garb ties.
Eighth Century continues in genealogy.

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I found the lyrics; too bad I can't remember the tune.  Leofwyna is no help; she doesn't remember it at all.



  Brazen Little Raisin

Way out in California, where the sunbeams shine,
A little grape was hanging on a big grape vine,
Said mama grape, "Be careful, don't get too much sun,
'cause grapes turn into raisins when they're too well done."

CHORUS:
Shame, shame, the brazen little raisin,
Shame, shame, he wasn't so smart,
Shame, shame, the brazen little raisin,
He's gonna be a part of a raisin tart.

"Now who's afraid of sunshine?", said the grape quite bold,
As out into the vineyard in the sun he rolled,
And after several hours when he felt his head,
He was shriveled up and wrinkled as his mama said.

A farmer came and tossed him in a great big crate,
A little lady raisin met the same sad fate,
The lady raisin whispered, "Are you man or grape?
There isn't any raisin why we can't escape!"

They found a place to exit and they rolled straight home,
And now they're in the vineyard, never more to roam.
That's why on every grapevine you will always see,
A couple of raisins hanging where two grapes should be.