Getting Close to Christmas...

Getting close to Christmas now...I'm resigned to the fact that I will never in this lifetime actually feel like I am ready for Christmas - I just generally run out of time and call it all done. It would seem that this year is shaping up in much the same way.

I purchased a CD of the 3 Tenors (Pavarotti, etc). I thought it might be nice to add a little culture into our home, since that quality is nonexistent now. Michael, upon noticing the CD on the desk in the kitchen, remarked 'hey, that's not bluegrass'. "That", I said "is exactly why I bought it". I haven't listened to it yet, but I'm fairly certain that not only will there be nothing at all resembling Jingle Bells, nor will there be forty-nine versions of Jingle Bells featuring every possible acoustic instrument. Personally, I am grateful for that. I may never listen to it - just having that CD near gives me comfort.

Did you all hear the story of how Michael got me recently? We were eating breakfast at the kitchen table, and I was pleading with him to host a Christmas show (the one that was to have been put on for December 8th had just been canceled). I was saying "please" to which he kept replying "NO", and on and on it went for a couple minutes. Then Michael said, after seeming to give my plea some consideration, "lift up your shirt". Fool that I am I lifted up my shirt. After he had himself a good gawk, he said "NO". While it was pretty funny I was still filled with a firm resolve that he won't get me ever again. Fool me once, shame on you - Fool me twice, shame on me. Maybe you had to be there to get the full impact, but frankly, I'm glad you weren't.

As we draw near to this Christmas season I am just completely filled up with fond feelings toward my dear husband. He has told me repeatedly that he does not want any CDs, music or instructional (YAY!), he does not want any DVDs, music or instructional (YIPPEE !! not sure what I'm going to use to fall asleep now but whatever...), and he does not want any clothes, any knickknacks, or dust-collectors (this covers off a wide variety of stuff in his opinion). At first I thought he was being completely self-less and totally thinking about others. How noble, I thought. Then Michael said "I want MONEY". Just money. He has told me that if I get any money for Christmas, he wants it. He told our kids that if they get any money for Christmas, he wants it. Further, he told them that if they want to buy him a gift, just give him the money. It seems we have a rather large bass to pay for.

Speaking of the bass, I asked last night on the drive home from shopping if the bass is left-handed or right-handed. I thought I was being clever and that he would laugh. Imagine my surprise when he said "it's right-handed". I seriously thought that it wouldn't matter; why couldn't a person just lean it to one side of their body or the other?? This was cause for much eye-rolling on the part of you-know-who.

Hey Mikey - if you want MONEY, try lifting up your shirt. Maybe someone will throw some at you. Actually, they might throw something other than money, but maybe you'll get lucky.

Have a happy day...
Helen

Do I want a Picture of a Bass on my Blog?

Ahhhhhh.....NO. I think not.

I was speaking with Ed Betts awhile ago. He was encouraging me to write another blog and saying that I must have lots of material as it's been a while. While we were discussing this point, my apple pie was crisping slightly black around the edges. Nice chatting with you though, Ed. And I knocked the black part off into the garbage so no one will ever know.

Speaking of 'crisp', I was looking at a website earlier today scrounging around for a new DVD to buy for Christmas. I can't tell you the artist; that part didn't stay in my head, but I do recall their description of the instructions used in the DVD. They used words like "sinewy slides", "crisp pull offs", "powerful hammer ons", and "locked-in right hand patterns". Sounds painful. I gotta run right out and get me one of those. I saw one that did catch my eye entitled "Splitting the Licks"... at first I thought it was about ice cream, but to my dismay, more banjo. My personal favourite and a winner for sure is "Banjo Set-Up and Maintenance" where those interested can learn to disassemble and reassemble their 5 string banjo. Pardon me, I can't hear you for the snoring. I betcha you want that one, don't you Mikey?

I was looking over Michael's shoulder recently as he was looking at the banjo hangout communication area...I can't think of the right term for it...and I read that someone had used the acronym "FMB". I asked my resident expert what that stood for and he said "Foggy Mountain Breakdown". Acronyms can be a lot of fun, I think. Perhaps we need to add to the glossary of terms for all things Bluegrass:

FMB = Foggy Mountain Breakdown
FLB = Fat Lazy...Buzzard
FSB = Five String Banjo

Now, let's use these in a sentence.

My Fat Lazy Buzzard was attempting yet again to play Foggy Mountain Breakdown on his Five String Banjo.

OR

My FLB was attempting yet again to play FMB on his FSB.

Much shorter and to the point, don't you agree?

Apparently we are soon to acquire a bass, hence the title for this blog. I don't mean a fish either. When I asked Michael where exactly he was planning on putting this new, quite large, toy, he said "In the living room" to which I replied that I didn't think there was room. Michael said that something would have to go and then he said that he's going to miss me. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel threatened by that, but I will say that between the drums, two electric guitars, two banjos, two acoustic guitars, and the soon to arrive bass, I'm feeling a little crowded out, and deafened by it all. I could move into say, a junkyard in full blown demolition mode, and have more peace and quiet.

Oh, and I did see one other DVD that made me laugh - it was named something about Picking in a Parking Lot but now I can't find it. Too bad, I say.

I'll write again soon, Ed. Promise !!

Let's Re-Think this...

Hello friends.

Before I get started on my original intent for this blog, I need to mention a couple things I've found humorous.
1.) I was just looking at a website that sells a book called "Banjo for Dummies". Need I say more on that? I think not.
2.) As we were driving to Fredericton yesterday Michael and I were listening to a recording of a radio show featuring Del McCoury and his band. Mr. McCoury stated that he believed bluegrass music is more intelligent now than in days gone by. Well now, at that rate, I would wager several hundred years from now bluegrass music should be boasting Einstein like qualities, shouldn't it?
3.) It's very cold at our house because some people are inhumane and refuse to turn the heat on. I was attempting to dress appropriately for the extreme chill in our house this weekend, and I looked down over my ensemble at one point and made a heart-wrenching discovery: I was dressed like a William of the Mountain. Please see "Glossary of Bluegrass Terms" for clarity.

Now, on to the point for this blog entry. I've noticed that the Christmas bluegrass music has ground to a halt at our house. The reason for this is, of course, the fact that the show at Harbour View High has been canceled. I'm disappointed. I'm still humming the Christmas tunes, but what I'm disappointed about is that we won't be putting on a show to help out the local area food banks. I thought that was a wonderful idea, and I was so excited that everyone seemed to be happy to be doing something so worthwhile.

Can't we re-think this? Why can't we organize a show to be held at the marina in December? It would be a little less formal and perhaps not so much pressure and we could still get together and do something to give back to the community and have fun doing it. (I know, you're shocked that I'm encouraging a bluegrass...anything, but by now you're aware that I'm a big supporter and just trying to maintain my reputation, right?)

Michael, please don't abandon this great idea you had. Let's just do it up a little differently. It could be very good and lot's of fun, and we can give back. Let's talk about it - I'll even wear something sexy for you - like my William of the Mountain outfit. I know you lovvvvvve that.

By the way, could you please remove that picture of me from the BGFriends website? Someone is really going to think you actually want to stifle me.

Baaaaahhh Humbug

I'm only blogging today out of protest.

We've been listening to Christmas music at our house since the middle of August. I will admit it is for a good reason. Michael is planning, or should I say, attempting to plan a Bluegrass Friends Christmas show to raise money for Saint John food banks. First, let me say this: Michael, I'm really proud of you for doing this. It's important to give back to the community and important to help others, and I love that about you. I know first hand how much of an effort you are putting into this good cause, and I support you 120%.

My next statement sounds negative; I'll warn you before you keep reading. I personally am not loving the amount of bluegrass music we are listening to, and the focus of late has solely been Christmas bluegrass music. Others get to hear Elvis crooning about having a blue Christmas without you, but I keep hearing something about Christmas in Dixie, and go tell it on a mountain...go tell WHAT is my question? Up until recently I didn't even classify that as a Christmas song, but we're listening to it ad infinitum, so it must be.

By the way, I think Tom Mason tried to run over me in the parking lot at Tim Hortons very early this morning. I know it was still dark Tom, but I'm not that hard to miss. Actually, this person only resembled Tom in his big smile and type of vehicle. I saw no visible musical instruments, and we WERE in a parking lot, so perhaps it wasn't Tom.

Ahhhh....this feels great. I forgot how good blogging feels. I was just reading my blog Glossary of Bluegrass Terms...it was pretty funny. I crack me up :) Brought me back to the trip we took with Ed and Becky...the music was all Bluegrass but none of it was of a Christmas nature. I'm reminded yet again to be careful what I wish for. Things change rapidly and not necessarily for the best.

Just so you know - I love Christmas. What's not to love? Family, friends, celebrating Christ's birth, which is the reason for the season, lots of presents, and last, but not least, it will be the end of the Christmasy Bluegrass music. I say "Come Quick, Christmas !!"

Glossary of Terms Bluegrass

Ed, Becky, Michael and I were away this weekend past and blessed to have witnessed a live concert featuring Dr. Ralph Stanley. More on this on another blog. I have lots to write about :)

Whilst we were away, and the topic of conversation centered largely around all things Bluegrass, Becky suggested that I blog a glossary of terms for those without nearly as much knowledge on the subject as I. Sorry for your luck. I've put in brackets the source when it didn't come from my own cultured and sophisticated brain.

Bluegrass - I've noticed more and more that this is a fairly subjective term and has no clear definition. I would be remiss in not at least making an attempt...

• If Ralph Stanley sings it, it's bluegrass. Apparently, if Ralph sang "Prop me up beside the Jukebox" some people would still claim that to be a bluegrass song. Actually, Prop Me Up and Oh Death kind of work together.
• If the instruments don't plug in, it might be bluegrass
• If the instruments plug in, it isn't bluegrass. The electric bass, which I'm not allowed to talk about, might be the only possible exception. Maybe.
• If Bob Dylan is singing, it MIGHT be bluegrass. Maybe.
• If the woman dies at the end of the song, it might be bluegrass
• If the dog dies, it might be bluegrass
• If everyone is wearing a white hat and the same shirt in varying colours, it might be bluegrass
• Regarding instruments, if it plugs in or you beat it with a stick, it's not bluegrass (BluegrassRadio.org)
• Radio Friendly Bluegrass - (#1) all those country songs that have been grassified just enough to make them palatable (#2) music for people that don't really like Bluegrass but are pretending to in order to keep the peace somewhere in their lives

See? Subjective.

Grass- left-handed cigarette (Sam Maguire)

Bluegrass fans - "a bunch of old people sitting on lawn chairs in a field listening to music that no one likes" (Hunter Floyd)

Grass it up - (# 1) convert what used to be an okay song to Bluegrass (#2) mash a little of the left-handed cigarettes into the brownies

Grassified - (#1) rhymes with classified (#2) Refers to a song that has been grassed up

The best bluegrass song - The one with no music and no singing - three minutes and 20 seconds of silence (Michael Floyd)

Politically correct term for Hillbilly - William of the Mountain (Ed and Becky Betts)

Banjo - A bucket of bolts and hooks that seems to be rather sensitive in the weather

BAS - Banjo Acquisition Syndrome

BA - Bluegrass Anonymous (12 Step Program)

BAA - the sound a sheep makes

BS - Bachelor of Science...oh wait, that's BSc

Ooooopssss...

I forgot to mention where I posted the punch line for the joke about the hookers - it's in the comments on the blog entitled "Banjo Joke About Hookers."

I asked Michael if he enjoyed the Continental Divide / David Parmley concert in Grand Manan. He said it was excellent and that the music was traditional. (Does the word 'traditional' mean that the music was good?)

I saw Tom Mason drive by in the Tim Hortons parking lot at Simms Corner in the early afternoon on the day they were due back from Grand Manan (that's how I knew Michael was home!) and Tom didn't look very happy, but perhaps he was having withdrawl since he was in a parking lot, but not jamming. The jamming played out pretty much as I mentioned in my last blog. I cannot emphasize how grateful I am that I was not there. Like, really, really, really filled with gratitude for that one.

I didn't get off the hook completely though - have no fear. Michael won a CD as a door prize, plus he bought three more. Not sure why he bothered spending the money...it seems to me that it all sounds the same as the stuff we already have. Just my own personal opinion.

Don't believe everything you think!
Helen

Banjo Joke...

You've heard the saying "when the cats away, the mouse will play"? I thought I would take an opportunity while Michael is away and jamming in all the parking lots between Saint John and
Grand Manan to post a couple jokes.

Joke # 1:

You walk into a brain store, and you look around and see piano player brain $10 an ounce, guitarist brain $15 an ounce, trumpet player brain $12 an ounce, banjo player brain $135 an ounce. Surprised, you ask the clerk why banjo player brain is $135 an ounce. He replies "Do you have any idea how many banjo players you have to kill to get one ounce of brain?"

Just so you know, Michael emailed me this joke a while ago. He can't get upset about something he endorsed, can he? Nahhhh....

Finally, a punch line!!

After a few days of despair that no one was sending me a response in the form of a punch line to "how many hookers does it take to string a banjo?", Steve M. sent three answers - all of which are clean, to boot. Thanks Steve for coming to the rescue :))

Michael told me I could be de-blogged. He's not loving the joke, I guess. Clay and I were in agreement that we could come up with a couple answers, most likely, but not necessarily ones that were postable. We're all about keeping it clean, right Clay?

Michael was telling me earlier today that he didn't think he was going to be taking a banjo with him on the big trip to Grand Manan tomorrow. (Half of Saint John is heading down there, from what I can gather). Anyway, I said that he absolutely HAD to take a banjo on the trip. (There's lots of jamming planned for the ferry parking lot, on the ferry, in the parking lot on the other side of the ferry, in the parking lot at the concert, after the concert (probably in the parking lot), at the motel, probably at Sheldon's house, at the motel in the morning before they leave for the ferry, in the parking lot at the ferry, on the ferry ride back...wow). Michael said "what do I need a banjo for?? To use as a paddle?" Ahhhhh....no. My suggestion would be that if the boat starts sinking, let go of the banjo. Those suckers are heavy and you'll sink like a rock. Hey, that sounds like a good theme for a bluegrass song.

Of course, when he mentioned using the banjo as a paddle my face lit up. He said "I know - I'm going to be reading about that". Yup, you can count on it. :)

I hope everyone that is going to Grand Manan for the concert enjoys the music and the company. It sounds like a fun time, except for the ferry ride, the parking lot jamming and the concert. Other than those things, sounds like a blast. Murray won't be going this year since he and Elaine are getting married this weekend, but Murray gets sick on the ferry ride so he wasn't fussy about going anyway. As I recall, even though it's been a while, walking down the aisle made me feel a little ill. I wouldn't be doing that again, not for anything.

Happy jamming...stay in touch...send comments!!
Helen

Banjo Joke About Hookers.

How many hookers does it take to string a banjo?

That's the joke - now we just need a punch line. I'm open to any suggestions. I can't be expected to do ALL the work, can I? Actually, my friend Steve came up with the joke. Thanks, Steve !!

I went to http://www.bluegrassfriends.com/ today - I see that we're taking the summer off from the Monday night jams. I have mixed feelings about that. I will miss all of our new friends, but I am looking forward to a break for us, especially Michael. The missing the friends part is bittersweet - September isn't that far away, and I know we're going to be seeing some of them very soon when we go to Maine to visit good old Ralph. I'm even making the ultimate sacrifice for this concert - I'm taking a precious vacation day from work. You want to be worth it, Ralphie !!

I think I'll probably continue to post bloggies this summer, since it's so highly entertaining.

Send in a punch line...I'll post them anonymously. Might be kind of funny to see what we can collectively come up with :)

Happy Blessings...
Helen

What IS a banjo hook, anyway??

Is it like a hooker that stands on a street corner, wearing her hooker boots, and holding a banjo? Perhaps she's trying to entice people to...ummm...you know...by playing them a little tune. All I have to say to that is: keep your day job. Imagine trying to pay the bills that way.

I sense another banjo joke out of this one.

Earl wouldn't do it THAT way...

I just logged into the BluegrassFriends website and at the top of the screen, where there are usually random pictures of some of us playing our musical instruments, there was instead a picture of some big chrome thing that looks like extra car parts. I phoned Michael because I was intrigued to know what the picture was - I thought for a moment that someone had hit the site and left a picture of questionable origin...I couldn't figure it out at all. The answer made me roll my eyes - Michael said it's a really, really, really close up shot of a banjo hook. Oh. Nice.

At the jam last Monday night I was pondering the idea with Tom Mason for a different song to use at the ending. I expect someday I'll be able to listen to 'Will the Circle be Unbroken' and not think about my mother, but I admit right now it stings a bit.

How about The Beverley Hillbillies Theme Song? It's a happy song, all about shooting and money and getting along with the neighbours. Even the ending is good with 'Ya'll come back now, ya hear!!'. Lots of banjo in that one too and it's very definitely a bluegrassy song.

Ed Betts sang a song just for me that night, apparently. I can't think of the name of it; Ed said it was ... oh, help. I can't think of who the artist is either. Complete blank. It's the guy we're going to see in July down in Maine, the one that I had to call the hotel to find out why there was a charge on my American Express and the hotel guy kept saying he hoped he didn't ruin a surprise for me...ahhhh...NOT. Anyway, I'll have to read my other blog to find out buddy's name. But thanks for thinking of me, Ed, and preparing me for the concert. You're a true friend. Just so you know for future, don't bust a gut learning buddy's songs to prepare me. I'm an easy sell on that one. You could sing Cluck Old Hen and I wouldn't know the difference. (That song has lyrics, right?) I appreciate the thought though. OH! He sings Pretty Polly with Patty Loveless...do you suppose she'll be at the concert?

Back to jam ending songs. How about Happy Birthday? It's a happy song. Not bluegrass, is it? We could grass it up. Stick in a banjo and mandolin break and have the woman die at the end, and there you go. Hmmmm...I guess that won't work. Becky suggested Fly Fly Away. That sounds like someone's leaving too. I'm noticing a common theme in bluegrass songs. Someone always leaves town or something. "I'll have a Blue Christmas" by Elvis? Nope. "It Isn't Easy Being Green" by Kermit the Frog? (That's from the 2000 Album 'Kermit Unpigged'). Isn't that hilarious??

How about Tom T. Hall "The Year that Clayton Delaney Died" or "Salute to a Switchblade". I must say that latter one sounds pleasant. He does have one song where he sings about little yellow ducks and big dogs and rum or something. That one might be good. Oh, not bluegrass. When Michael and I were dating, we would sit in my car, which only had an 8-track player, and the only 8-track we had was Tom T. Hall. We would listen to Tom and...nevermind. I'm not allowed to blog about that stuff.

Ok, here's the thing: Memories of mom are everywhere...I know how fortunate I was to have her for a mom, even though it wasn't long enough. This too shall pass. And just as importantly, other people are reminded of their moms as they listen to that song too, and that can never be a bad thing. And I actually love the Circle song.

Hope everyone is having a sunny, grassy day.
xoxox
Helen

Rice cakes can do damage...

I'm on a work break and eating my lunch. I like having rice cakes at lunch time because they're crunchy and they don't generally get me into trouble. In the past, I have had a LOT of trouble with food. Over time I've pretty much eliminated from my diet anything that gives me trouble of a craving type, and, one day at a time, this has worked well for me for a few years.

I was savouring my last rice cake and I heard a sickening crunching sound...I think the tip of one of my back molars broke off. Oh NOOOOO!!!! People at work make fun of me because I like rice cakes - they compare them to eating sawdust, and cardboard, and such, but up until now, I liked them and thought they were safe. Many times while planning sales meetings for work I've been tempted to order rice cakes and salad for lunch and see how funny they all think they are then. :) Be careful not to tease the people that feed you.

Now I'm cautiously feeling around that tooth...maybe it's ok. I should mention the topic Bluegrass in this blog so as to keep with my blog name, and my reason for being. Bluegrass. Now, let's move on to something more stimulating...such as rice cakes. I should duck, right?

Tell someone how much you love them, before it's too late. It can become too late very suddenly.
xoxox
Helen

When did GRASS become a verb?

On my last post I was whining about Michael mentioning my grammar, but since I read the Discussion Forum and all the back and forth about 'keeping it bluegrass', and having seen a post about 'grassing up' some country tunes, the question about when GRASS became a verb has been floating around in my head.

I will admit that it isn't the thought main front and center, but it does pop up on occasion, and usually I make what my dear mother used to fondly call a ticking sound with my tongue. I manage to sound quite disgusted when I do it. Grass is not a verb; it's a noun.

"It's good to feel the green, green grass of home". As I type this I'm thinking perhaps the word is touch and not feel, but whatever. Or maybe it was See. Hmmmm....it's no secret that I don't know sweet diddlydo about music. Ok, in this example, feel is the verb...grass is the noun, and green is the whatchamacallit...adjective? Yeah, that's it. Were I to be talking about smoking some grass, smoking would be the verb. I have never done that, by the way. I'm wondering though if I were to mash some up in some people's cereal if they might mellow out a little and not be so concerned about Buddy Holly...I wouldn't know a Buddy Holly tune from ....what? Cluck Old Hen. Didn't Buddy write Cluck Old Hen? I think he did.

OHHHHHH...!!! I just thought of something. Did Jessica and Kevin not do a FANTASTIC job on Daniel Prayed. I thought I was going to pass out. Nice work, guys. In fact, I thought the whole jam was great.

Anyway, back to grass. It's all just too funny. You know what I have to say to it all? Grass this up !! :)


Big grassy hugs to you...
Helen

Earl wouldn't do it that way...

Earl who?

Michael sent me an email mentioning that I had made a 'fatal error' in the fact that I mis-spelled SCRUGGS on my last blog. Ooooooops. Oh well, I'm sure Earl would forgive me. People spell my name wrong all the time, with two "Ls". HeLLen. Looks funny, doesn't it?

Fatal Error. Hmmmm...I've not ever heard a spelling mistake called a fatal error before now. As far as I know, things like forgetting your wedding anniversary, or the wife's birthday could be called fatal errors, or can certainly gain one's immediate admittance to the dog house, but a spelling mistake? Ahhhhh...no.

By the way, Michael never forgets my birthday. As far as anniversaries go, for our 10th wedding anniversary we went out for dinner, and he presented me with a little wrapped box (I thought it was something shiny) but in the box were the ribbons that he had tied to the antenna on the truck on our wedding day...those ribbons came with us all the way to Newfoundland, and back, and were a lovely reminder of the day. He had saved them, and tucked them away with the intention of presenting me with them 10 years later. How romantic is that?

On our 20th anniversary, he bought me something shiny :))) Michael made a big deal out of presenting it to me...our kids were there...Michael said, as he was passing me the box, "I want to thank you for twenty years of..."...as he was hesitating, no doubt looking for exactly the best adjective to describe his adoration, our daughter Mallory inserted the word PAIN. The sentence never did get finished since we were all laughing so hard.

That's ok, dear. I know what you meant. I love you too. And quit bugging me about my grammatical limitations. Like, how important is it?

Happy day...
Helen

I hadn't thought of it this way...

This cracks me up - I was just on a website that sells stuff like t-shirts and banjos and other fun stuff and I saw a t-shirt that reads:

"Sex, drugs, and Flatt & Skruggs"

To me, that just makes bluegrass all the more interesting. I love it...what WILL they think of next?

Well now...

Met some new people at the bluegrass jam last night. Didn't catch their names exactly, but we chatted and they seemed pretty enthusiastic. Why not, it's a pretty enjoyable evening as far as I can tell.

As they were leaving they asked me for a definition of bluegrass music. At first I was horrified - I prefer answering questions about topics where I have a clue, but I was inspired by a couple thoughts such as the instruments are all acoustic...that means they don't plug into anything, right? I'm thinking about how we don't go to concerts where the fatal error of using an electric bass is made. Well, acoustic stuff is what I told them, and then they said something about drums, and I remember Michael being quite agitated when Alison Krauss and Union Station have drums, so I said nope, no drums.

One of the people said that the songs sounded a lot like country...yes, dear, I know...toooooo much country in last night's jam...anyway, I said that the difference with bluegrass music from country is that the woman always dies at the end of the song. This was the point that they realized what I knew all along - I have absolutely no clue to what I am speaking about, and they left. Whatever. It all sounds the same to me. Hopefully they will come back and I can put them in front of Michael for a few mintues.

On a different note, when I opened the American Express bill a couple nights ago (these things seem to come around FAR too often) I noticed a rather large charge to our bill and I didn't recognize the merchant. It was for a hotel and the charge had been converted from USD...ah HA! I thought. So, I called American Express to question the charge...I am a patient person in dealing with this type of thing, but let's just say the amount of time I spent on the phone to no avail was remarkable. Finally, I got the phone number of the merchant and instructions to call them first and then AMEX would dispute the charge if I had no luck. Sigh.

I called the merchant...he was a pleasant individual and told me he runs a little inn near the New Hampshire border. I explained my request and he told me the person that had made the charge was Michael Floyd. Oh. He proceeded to tell me what it was for...one night's accomodation, dinner, breakfast, and tickets to the Ralph Stanley concert. I said "Oh". He kept telling me he hoped he had not ruined a surprise for me. Hello? Roses are a surprise...diamonds...rings...shiny stuff, even hubcaps, are a surprise. Ralph Stanley...no. In no way does Ralph enter my 'surprise' category.

Have a good day, unless you've made other plans.
Hugs,
Helen

Thanks for your Support

Thanks so much for your support and prayers over these past few days as we helped my mom pass away. Michael and I have been blessed with good friends and many calls and emails and offers of support. We were touched to see the beautiful flowers that our bluegrass friends sent to the funeral home and felt the special love of friends while there. It's been a difficult time, for certain, but I have felt God's love particularly and I know everything is as it is meant to be, and that all will be ok.

I'm looking forward to seeing you next Monday, June 4th, and I'm grateful that we have good friends to help us keep living.

Concert Perceptions from the Bluegrass Widow

I just read Michael's blog about the concert. Hmmmm....yes, some of it I recollect as described. My perspective may have been a little different though. Here are some thoughts.

I had spent that morning in Fredericton with my mother, and when I got home with just about the right amount of time to get ready to go to Ed & Becky's (i.e. brush my teeth) so that we could all go together to the concert, Michael asked me "is that what you're wearing". I can't recall him ever having asked ME that question before. I have asked it of him on a few occasions, but not the other way around, and I wasn't quite sure how to react. "Yes", I said carefully. "Yes, this is what I'm wearing. Does it not look ok?" "Oh yes, yep, uh huh. Yep. It looks fine". Fine. What a nasty word. I'm not a rocket scientist, but neither am I a stupid woman, so I know that because the question had been asked, it was indicative that there was indeed an issue with my outfit. No problem - presto chango into pink leather.

May 19th is Ed & Becky's wedding anniversary, and I thought it was nice that they wanted to spend it with us. Well, not us entirely. Ricky Skaggs et al. Ed & Becky had supper at Ed's Subs (not our Ed, but an unknown Ed), and then later we all had a meal at the Truck Stop. The anniversary aspect of the evening rather reminded me of some of the wedding anniversaries that I have experienced in the past, but I won't go there. At least not right now.

We arrived at the high school with lots of time to spare, which in and of itself is remarkable. I'm fairly certain Michael will be late for his own funeral, but he does manage to get to music related events pretty much on time. Why is that? Another one of life's great mysteries. We snuck in through the back door where we were stopped by security guards, one of which was really, really, really big. After some explaining, we were allowed to enter, but not before a permanent marker was used on each of us. For some reason, Tom Mason and I got B.R. tattooed on our hands, and everyone else got M.B. on their hands. We did not figure out the significance of this but when I went out to the lobby to buy water, I was not allowed back in. This was very alarming until the really, really, really big security guard confirmed that I was acceptable. I was starting to wonder if I would have to start crying to get back into the auditorium as the pink leather was obviously having no effect whatsoever.

Lemme see...what else happened. Oh yes, I hollered JIMMIE!! three times, for Jim Mills, the Kentucky Thunder banjo player. The first time, Tom Mason said "who let her in here?". Each time I yelled, Michael elbowed me and said "stop it" which struck me as odd since he told me to do it the third time. Hard to figure these banjo players out.

After the concert a bunch of us stood in the auditorium guarding the new banjo while Michael was in the lobby stalking Jimmie. About 20 minutes passed and he came flying through the door and Ed said "he looks like he's on a mission". Ya think? We were told Jimmie was waiting for us so off we went.

We basically monopolized Jimmie for about half an hour down the hall and well away from the crowd. Michael was absolutely buzzing with energy and I really enjoyed watching him ask Jim questions and talk and be so excited. It was a great thing to behold. I recall seeing Michael like that one other time. It was the night our daughter was born - the three of us were in a room resting and waiting to be admitted, and the nurse brought us in a phone. Michael picked up the phone and said "who can I call?" and he telephoned everyone we knew to tell them about the miracle that had just occurred. Seeing him like that again was really nice.

All in all, I totally enjoyed the evening, and loved being with our new friends. That was really special to me, and I enjoyed the music too. I couldn't tell you the name of even one tune since they all sound the same to me, but I thought they sounded pretty good. Meeting Jim Mills was cool, but the absolute very best part for me was watching Michael's dream come true exactly as he had hoped it would. That was my favourite part of the whole night.

Talk soon....
Big hugs from Helen

I just thought of something funny....

Actually, I thought of it earlier today and even said it out loud, but it just came back to me, so I thought I would do a bloggy thingy about it. And it's even about bluegrass, in a round-about sort of way. That will make you-know-who happy.

I've been a little distracted of late and things at home are not quite as caught up as normal. I realized some time yesterday that Michael's drivers license expired on his birthday, which was May 14th, and I had a fuzzy memory of the car registration about to expire too. Not good and I had a kind of "circling the drain" feeling.

This morning Michael, Ed, Kenny and Harvey left on the big road trip to pick up the new banjo. So, picture this: Michael will be arriving at the Canada / US border with an expired picture ID, and no passport. If by some stroke of luck they do let him across the border, and don't arrest him for being an illegal alien or something, when the group decides to come back across on the other side, and he has to pay the tax on the banjo to get IT into Canada, he may have difficulty in doing so as I also noticed this morning that I have not paid the VISA bill and it was due on April 30th. Yikes!

After I stopped cringing about the chaos I have created, I decided that it might be rather entertaining to let the license lapse to the point that he has to take another driver test. Michael is constantly crowing about how he can parellel park, and I can't, about how he stops fully at stop signs, and I roll through, and how superiour his reverse driving skills are compared to mine. Blah, blah, blah. Let's put all that boasting to the big test. Yeah...that's starting to sound reallllll good.

This blog is bluegrass related, right?

See below for the sum total of what I know about bluegrass...

ahhhhhhhh....nothing.

Am I really a bluegrass widow?

Michael and I were at supper tonight at the Irving Big Stop in Lincoln. We were going to eat at home but decided that we were just too hungry and that we could share one of their whopping meals.

As soon as our butts hit the chairs, he said he had something to tell me about my blogs. He said that he noticed my blogs have nothing to do with bluegrass, and that didn't seem right to him, since my title is Bluegrass Widow. (I didn't know that was a title, but whatever.) He said I should be posting blogs about my thoughts on bluegrass related topics; items of interest like how I won't let him practice, how I object to the purchase of the banjo, how I don't like going to the jam...stuff like that. Then he said "And you don't need to blog about this conversation". As soon as those words were out of his mouth I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew he had committed a fatal error. Too bad, pal.

I'm thrilled that you're getting a new banjo. The only person more excited is Ed Betts. Even you, Michael, are not as thrilled as we are. As far as practicing goes: rock on, man. Practice makes improved. I will say that I'm really looking forward to having that deck built, but I'm a patient woman. Regarding the jams - I admit that I started out going to the jams only as a means of supporting you (Michael) and that in the beginning I didn't love them, but now, for a variety of reasons, I love being there.

How do I change my blog name? Any suggestions out there for something more appropriate?

See ya...and happy day !

Nothing to do with Bluegrass at ALL...

Good day and Happy Thursday...
They say that stolen food has no calories...I'm not certain about that, but I just found half a bagel in the employee fridge upstairs (I'm at work) and I'm starving, so I stole it. In my defense I will say that the code date on the bagel bag is April 26, and this is May 10th. The bagel is rather beyond it's best and certainly not as fresh as this lovely spring day, however, it is doing the trick. And I'll replace it tomorrow. I left a note too saying that I had lifted it. Not much of a thief, am I?

I think it's kind of funny that Michael and I have our own blog sites - kind of like HIS and HER towels in the bathroom. This is an interesting way to spend a few minutes of my lunch break. Also, it's amazing to me how much mindless stuff I can think of to write about, and I know that Mike experiences that same wonderment when he blogs. His stuff all sounds absolutely mindless to me. Just my humble opinion. (Mike, don't be mad)

That reminds me of my last hair cut. I went to a hair dresser that I had not gone to before - she is a person that I had met a couple years ago and I knew she did hair, so I decided to give her a shot. My hair spray consumption with the other 'do' was reaching epic proportions and Mike was constantly blaming me for what is wrong with the ozone, yelling to me that I had "used enough of that stuff" and delivering to me the gloomy message that he was afraid I was causing myself severe damage in the form of lung cancer. Not to mention the fact that he has been calling me 'helmet head' for the past 15 years, and I would just about say I've had enough of that 'do'. Plus, once at the Monday jam I was giving my favourite Harvey a good-bye hug and his glasses got stuck in my hair. I ripped them right off his face. Hair with attitude is not good.

So, I called the new hairdresser person and made an appointment. I was distressed, to say the least. The conversation went like this: "hi, this is Helen. I would like to make an appointment with you". She said "oh Helen! I can help you!!" My mind raced back over the fact that I had already identified myself and it would be pointless to hang up. She continued rambling on about how harsh my hair looks, how she could soften it, how she could give me some suggestions about coloring it, (I don't remember asking for any), and how hair spray was going to be absolutely off limits for me. In between each statement she said "don't be mad". She knew she was about to unload something offensive and she really didn't give a fig. Fortunately, I'm difficult to offend.

When I went to the appointment she started out by saying "let's first wash this crud out of your hair". Then, as she was washing it, she was calling out to someone in the other room about how much hairspray I use, and how it's impossible to get a comb through my hair. Excuse me, I am in the room, and I CAN hear you. Sheesh. Anyway, long story a little bit shorter, she cut it, I stopped using hairspray, and the hole in the ozone will hopefully repair. I have since discovered the joys of hair glue, hair wax, and hair gel. The hair glue has the exact same consistency as wood glue, which my father lovingly calls 'dumbdumb". You know, to cover mistakes. I wonder if there is any correlation...oh well, best not to over analyze that one.

I gotta get back to work. Hope your day is lovely.
Big hugs,
Helen

Struggles with all things electronic and otherwise...

Hello friends...
I'm really struggling with figuring out how to post a bloggy thingy. The last time I did it, which was also the first time, Mike took care of it for me. I guess I'm on my own now.

I have the most nasty head cold I've ever had. Mike had a slight sniffle and decided he wanted a little kiss. I'm not opposed to a kiss under the most dire circumstances, so I discarded the little sniffle as insignificant and proceeded. Now I wish someone could cut my head off with a chain saw from just below the nose. Oh well, as a good friend pointed out, I could be lying in a bed on the oncology ward. That helps put my cold into perspective. Hey Mike, want a kiss???

I was joking on my last blog about not knowing about the new banjo until I read what Mike wrote about the Stanley Tone. Good grief!! Looks like we're going to have another banjo at the Floyd house. I need some more banjo joke material. Speaking of that...

What do you call it when you chuck a banjo into a lake from 500 yards without making a splash?

Perfect pitch :)

I'm going to start a 12 step program for bluegrass widows. Bluegrass Widows Anonymous. BGA. More on that later.

ok, now I'm going to cross my fingers and hit the PUBLISH button and hope this works. If not, I shall try, try again.

See you soon and big hugs....
Helen

Bluegrass Widow

Welcome to the Bluegrass Widow Blog. I'm Helen and I am a Bluegrass Widow. I know there are more of you out there. All I know is this: we don't seek help for a problem until we admit that we have one.

Ok, so we're on the way to Fredericton, and Michael says "start blogging". I thought I was having a few hours off, but NO, I am typing while I drive, while I navigate, and give directions. Do I have to do everything? It would seem so. In a minute he's going to say 'if you're going to back-seat drive, get into the back seat".

Blog. What a funny word. It can be used as a verb, for example: "Blog this". Or how about, "I have to do some blogging today"or "I'm feeling a little bloggy in the tummy". Or as a noun, for example: "I lost my blog and I can't for the life of me remember what I did with it".

I'm not in the least surprised that Michael likes to blog so much - ever since I have known him I have said that he is an opinion looking for a place to happen. Blogging, it seems, is the perfect venue for that. Michael can unleash his opinion, and if we so choose, we can read it. Or not, as the case may be. I personally have found reading the blog updates to be extremely enlightening as they provide me with invaluable information about what is happening in my life. For example, I didn't know we were buying another banjo until I read about it. Very interesting, I thought. My next thought was "good thing I have a job."

I have also noticed several blogs where he makes disparaging remarks about his banjo playing abilities. Heck, I thought he sounds ok, but what do I know? I have also discovered the dates for Christmas parties, my husband's favourite bluegrass groups, where we're going this summer, and pictures of Jimmie, this guy Michael keeps telling me about. Even more of a revelation is the picture of me with duct-tape across my mouth. I had no idea I was modeling for a manual feedback eliminator. Is that all I am? Feedback?? What a tough crowd.

As we drive to Fredericton, just like always, there is music playing on the car stereo, with lots of banjo. In an attempt to sound intelligent, or at least interested, I said "is that Cluck Old Hen"? Michael's eyes rolled back in his head and he said "nooooooooooooo....it's Choctaw Hayride". Whatever. It all sounds the same to me.

Until next time, my name is Helen and I am a Bluegrass widow. Can anybody help me, please?