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Fourth of July
Banjo Man

Glen the Banjo Man
notes from nebraska
I have no internet access here in Lincoln. So…..
I just wanted to tell you, very quickly…
We did not get caught in the Cheyenne snowstorms.
We did not get caught in the Nebraska “super cell” storms.
We did not get caught in the Nebraska tornadoes.
Today is Friday.
We are having breakfast with friends Saturday morning and then we are getting on the road.
I am desperately trying to make progress on Book 3, also known as THE HUSBAND SHOW.
It is impossible to write in the car.
We have repacked. It no longer looks this bad.
And, best of all, I bought a new pair of cowboy boots in North Platte, Nebraska. I will share a picture of them in a few days. They have crystals and beads on them and are very fancy.
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montana to wyoming
Scene from the bedroom window at the Hampton Inn, Sheridan, Wyoming:
Yesterday we took our time getting up. No rushing to get on the road (that will be for next week). Instead we acted like tourists and spent an hour walking around downtown Sheridan, which is a huge town with a vibrant main street. We even spent some time in the local music store, talking to the owners who are into bluegrass music. There was a great deal of “banjo chat” but I was busy signing the guest book and putting a pin on Rhode Island on the map by the front door.
I looked at my watch and realized that Hope Mountain Blues was gathered at our weekly music lesson and I wasn’t there. Sigh. At least I was in a music store, right?
I didn’t find any stores that sold cowboy boots.
Here’s the mannequin in the window of a secondhand store that didn’t have much inside of it except for the owner, who played his guitar and harmonica and seemed to be practicing for something.

Back on the road: It would look like this for the rest of the day.

This morning we are on our way to North Platte, Nebraska, only 222 miles east of here. It’s time to get off the road and visit with family for 24 hours.
Last night we went downtown (in Cheyenne, Wyoming) and ate at Sanford’s Pub, a huge restaurant with a huge menu. Banjo Man was so happy. He loved everything about that restaurant, which was decorated in a wild, funky, trash-heap way.
This makes two nights in a row that we’ve gone out to dinner “downtown”. I’m happy with yogurt in the room, or take-out sandwiches from Subway. I love hotel rooms. I hate to leave them to get BACK IN THE CAR to wander around trying to find a good place to eat.
Banjo Man, on the other hand, likes to explore new places to eat. I blame all those food shows on cable tv. He watches a lot of them.
We have realized we didn’t pack very well. I am now wearing shorts, and I have no idea if it’s cold outside or not. Banjo Man had to go back to the car and rummage around in duffle bags until he found socks and underwear. The car is so loaded up with stuff that we tend to laugh uncontrollably every morning when we look at the back seat.
It’s a little embarrassing. I now point out large vans and say that is what we need for next year. In the “way back” we have a guitar, a lap steel guitar, a banjo and a violin. We also have a painting, assorted music books, kitchenware, a quilt-in-progress and assorted bags of clothes and cowboy boots. We both have our “offices” with us, which adds to the piles of bags in the back seat. We even have an extra bag for shoving stuff in when we don’t know what it is or if we need it or if it’s important and we’ve run out of room.
We need to repack in Nebraska.
It is insane. I admit it.
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more montana mountains
I took a lot of pictures today. I couldn’t stop myself. Everything was beautiful. There were clouds, and sunshine and rain. And there were mountains.
Big Sky Country. How beautiful is this!
stopping in drummond, montana
Time for gas. Next exit, Drummond.
I am partial to small Montana towns. Any chance I get to veer off the interstate and head down Main Street I take advantage of.
Look at what I found!


It used to be the post office, hence the safe. I bought a packet of needles, because I have a quilt in the back seat that needs its binding hemmed. I don’t think I have a prayer of getting that little job done, but I’m often delusional (but you already knew that).

Thirsty?

Hungry for a mid-morning snack?

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morning in missoula
Scenes from the hotel parking lot this morning:
Wait a minute. Is that who I think it is??
Zoom.
Looks like Banjo Man is cleaning out sunflower seeds.
Okay, time to get on the road….
Good morning, Montana!
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on the road again
We left the lake this afternoon.
We’d intended to leave tomorrow morning.
We’d intended to go to the wedding party at the barn today. We’d intended to fit all of the cleaning and packing and laundry and going-to-the-dump and closing up the house jobs in between all of the fun stuff.
And then the reality of time reared its ugly head.
We’d run out of time.
Truth: we are not getting any younger and everything takes longer…sigh.
We are now in Missoula, Montana. The rain has stopped, which is a particularly wonderful thing.
After days of rain and cold weather, my arthritis (oh, god, am I getting old or what???) was, um, not good.
Tonight I soaked the pain away in a hot bath, while Banjo Man went next door to get a pizza.
He brought it to me in the bathroom and I ate it while I was in the tub.
Maybe that was Too Much Information.
On the other hand, you know you’re on a road trip when you’re eating pizza in the bathroom while up to your waist in hot water and reading a book on your Kindle.
Tomorrow we trade rain for snow, according to the local weather report.
Posted in lake, road trip
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canasta addict
My French Friend Janou has become a canasta addict.
Yes, it’s sad but true.
Want to know how it started? A zillion years ago, actually. When Banjo Man’s mother and her sisters and brothers-in-law gathered frequently to play Canasta around someone’s dining room table.
This summer, at the annual family gathering, one of Banjo Man’s siblings suggested learning Canasta and playing for old time’s sake.
Which they did. Raucously.
And then Banjo Man taught My French Friend Janou and her Artist Husband David how to play.
MFFJ was hooked.
She even bought one of these:

If you don’t know what this is, click HERE.
I’m going to share some photos of a recent canasta-playing evening. No, not pictures of cards, but scenes from a window on another side of the peninsula where I live.
It is raining now, and the last of the summer’s canasta games has been played.
MFFJ will spend the winter scheming as to how to beat me at cards next summer.
Banjo Man wants a card shuffler for Christmas.





















