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?
