“Young man, you have demanded to know the secret of connubial success. As I have been married to the same woman for more than forty-four years, I am in a position to enlighten you, maritally speaking wise. Therefore, listen and mark me well. I am about to hold forth …

“Shortly after I had proposed marriage to the love of my life and she had accepted, I made my policy known. There was one point of order upon which there could be no compromise. In the strongest of terms, sir, I laid down the law, put my foot down and drew a line in the sand. In short, I caused my bride to understand that, in this marriage, it would be she who would be making all the minor decisions, while the burden of making all the major decisions would fall squarely and solely upon my manly shoulders.

“Well, sir, nigh on to four-and-a-half decades have arrived and departed since that protocol was, as you might say, “carved in stone,” in a manner of speaking and so to speak. And I may truthfully assert that we have abided by that covenant religiously.

"But here is the wonder of it. During all that time, events have consistently unfolded in a such a way that there has never yet been a single major decision to be made. No, sir. Not one. Every last decision that had to be made turned out to be, in fact, a minor decision.

“But you may be assured that when and if the need should arise for the making a major decision, it will be me, myself and I alone upon whom the burden of making said decision will fall. You see? Because, right from the start, I laid down the law, put my foot down, drew a line in the sand, made my policy known. That is how things have stood and that is how they shall continue to stand ’til Death do us part. On this point of order there can be no compromise.”

(just joking … well, half-joking)

My wife, Jo, is little. Four feet, ten inches. A short lady with a short name. “Jo" is not a nickname for Josephine or Joanne. Her name is Jo. It’s a Scottish term of affection, meaning ‘sweetheart.’ Perhaps you know the poem by Robert Burns, “John Anderson, My Jo”?

Well, Jo is my jo.

Jo is well over four feet tall. And that is tall! … for a Hobbit.

As Shakespeare has Helena say of Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, “Though she be but little, she is fierce!"

Fierce in defense of those she loves, I hasten to add. She is a thoughtful, kindly, deeply caring and supportive mother and partner, the keystone of our little family and my closest friend for all these years.

One of the dearest folk-hymns of the Kentucky Shakers is entitled, “Love is Little.” That hymn makes me think of Jo because she is little and loving and because she lullabyed our children with that hymn when they were very small.

Here are the hymn's sweet, simple words:

Love is little.
Love is low.
Love will make my spirit grow.

Grow in peace.
Grow in light.
Love will do the thing that’s right.

I wrote a set of variations on the hymn tune, entitling it a little whimsically: “Six Lovely Little Variations on Love is Little.”

I’ve written very nearly all of my music for particular musician friends, shaping my compositions to suit their tastes and personalities and keeping in mind the occasions when they might use the piece in performance. This piece is the exception to that practice, insofar as I wrote it only for myself to play, upon my soprano recorder and as a little homage to my “Jo."

It works just fine when played on the clarinet, too. You can hear it played by clarinetist Laurel Bennett, by clicking on the link above.

To see a PDF of the score, click on the link above.

If you’d like to see a cute photo of Jo and me, taken in Rocky Mountain National Park, copy and paste the link below into your browser.
http://www.sowash.com/recordings/mp3/photo_jo_rick.jpg

Isn’t she adorable?

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
Oct. 2, 2016