Oh how the truth does bite. After class had closed, standing by the desk, of my seventh grade teacher. I was receiving, a large spoon full of that bitter but, necessary medicine called truth. “Well now Freddy Maguyer Tarrant” said the crotchety old Irish teacher. “Here you are showing up on your first day at this school for the blind with all the qualifications that should send you straight back to the fourth or fifth grade. However, since you are twelve years old, I’ll give you just one chance to buckle down and work your way out of your abysmal condition of ignorance. Just in this first day of class, I have learned that you have no understanding of numbers and most remarkably you do not even know the alphabet. You must have been living in a cave. Furthermore, it is inconceivable that the teachers you have had in the past have brought you to this point, knowing so little.” “They too must have lived in caves.” Standing silently by Miss Feelin’s desk, I felt a deep and overwhelming sense of dread and yet a deeper sense of burning shame. I knew in my heart of hearts that what she said was true. Two hundred miles from home in a boarding school for the blind, knowing nothing, I thought, when Miss Feelin said: “Now here is a poem in braille, Freddy, that you must learn by heart and recite before the class on Friday and no excuses”. “This poem is entitled, “To a Waterfowl” by William Cullen Bryant and in this poem there are five words, in particular, that you must remember to your dying day, yes, to your dying day”. These five words are: “Lone wandering, but not lost”, I repeat, “Lone wandering, but not lost” and you must never ever forget these words. These five words burst from old Miss Feelin with a nerve shattering shriek, with her knuckles banging on her desk top, for emphasis. “Now you remember what I’ve told and be off to your next class for you remind me of an Irish fiddle, all strings and no bow. I expect that every vagrant breeze that comes along will have its way with you.” That was 1938 and now it is seventy-three years later. And yes, I did learn those miserable numbers and even learned the alphabet. Those five words “Lone wandering, but not lost” have stood me in good stead, and yes, these vagrant breezes rushing down from these old, old hills around Palmares, Costa Rica do have their way with me. They touch the strings of my heart and set the memories to dancing. I invite you to read, reflect and enjoy the “First Time Ever”.

A SUNDAY TIMES AND TELEGRAPH BOOK OF THE YEARSHORTLISTED FOR THE PENDERYN MUSIC BOOK PRIZEPeggy Seeger is one of folk music's most influential artists and songwriters. Born in New York City in 1935, she enjoyed a childhood steeped in music and left-wing politics - they remain her lifeblood. After college, she travelled to Russia and China - against US advice - before arriving in London, where she met the man with whom she would raise three children and share the next thirty-three years: Ewan MacColl. Together, they helped lay the foundations of the British folk revival, through the influential Critics Group and the landmark BBC Radio Ballads series. And as Ewan's muse, she inspired one of the twentieth century's most popular love songs, 'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face'. With a clear eye and generous spirit, Peggy writes of a rollercoaster life - of birth and abortion, sex and infidelity, devotion and betrayal - in a luminous, beautifully realised account.

From the school yards of the South Bronx to the tops of the "Billboard" charts, rap has emerged as one of the most influential cultural forces of our time. This pioneering anthology brings together more than 300 lyrics written over 30 years, from the "old school" to the present day.

Breezy Marston is almost 30 and doing her best to re-rail her derailed life plan. After losing the job she thought she would hold until she was old and decrepit, her best friend, Ammyleigh, throws out an idea for them to start their own business making homemade crochet items. As they are working on getting that off the ground, Breezy gets a phone call that she has to go pick up her youngest sibling, Oona, who is 15 and getting released early from juvie. Now, she is expected to be responsible for Oona in all areas of work, school, and home life. Then she also ends up with Juniper, Oona’s friend from juvie. More expectations. After they find Juniper’s ex-boyfriend and his older brother dead, Russian bad guys start chasing them, Breezy finds out she is some kind of “sleeper agent” for a government experiment, and, oh, she can talk with ghosts. Can she and her group figure out who killed the two boys before an angry Russian or ghost gets to her first?

This title was first published in 2003. This work considers the post-war folk revival in Britain from a popular music studies perspective. Michael Brocken provides a historical narrative of the folk revival from the 1940s up until the 1990s, beginning with the emergence of the revival from within and around the left-wing movements of the 1940s and 1950s. Key figures and organizations such as the Workers' Music Association, the BBC, the English Folk Dance and Song Society, A.L. Lloyd and Ewan MacColl are examined closely. By looking at the work of British Communist Party splinter groups it is possible to see the refraction of folk music as a political tool. Brocken openly challenges folk historicity and internal narrative by discussing the convergence of folk and pop during the 1950s and 1960s. The significant development of the folk/rock hybrid is considered alongside "class", "Americana", radio and the strength of pop culture. Brocken shows how the dichotomy of artistic (natural) versus industry (mass-produced) music since the 1970s has led to a fragmentation and constriction of the folk revival. The study concludes with a look at the upsurge of the folk music industry, the growth of festivals and the implications of the Internet for the British folk revival. Brocken suggests the way forward should involve an acknowledgement that folk music is not superior to but is, in fact, a form of popular music.

A rich politician chasing the power of the highest office in the land. A naive young reporter assigned to follow him on the campaign trail. A sizzling secret she whispered in his ear about how he could be her first. Eli was a cutthroat billionaire with obscenely good looks, on the campaign trail to become the next president. She was a sweet little blonde reporter who was much too young for him. The moment she whispered her secret - that she had never been with anyone before - he was hooked. Despite his ruthless pursuit of the presidency, he couldn't resist her. She was a temptation he couldn't ignore, even though she was dangerous; she jeopardized everything he had worked so hard for. But when she pulled him in for a kiss, he knew he couldn’t protest. He would stop at nothing to make her his. Their night of passion was everything he imagined and more. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was falling for her. He was wealthy, lavish, and had an empire at his fingertips, but more and more, he wanted her to be his. Jealousy bloomed, threatening to corrupt the pure relationship between them. Decadent, steamy, and all-consuming… Eli knew he would do anything to make sure she stayed in his arms. One thing was clear: Meredith was his, and he would stop at nothing to keep her that way. From Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author Vivian Wood comes a new billionaire best friend’s little sister romance. Fans of King of Wrath by Ana Huang, The Fine Print by Lauren Asher, and My Dark Romeo by Parker S. Huntington and LJ Shen will love this book. Keywords: wealthy, lavish, billionaire, empire, obscenely good looks, jealous, kiss, ruthless pursuit, good girl, mine, I’m falling for her, night of passion, first time, innocent, rich, sexy, off limits, forbidden