confession is good for the soul

I love bluegrass music. I do. I always have, I think. My PawPaw was a country fiddle/mandolin/guitar player who could sing every part and knew every tune. He loved to sing, and loved it when we sat around and sang together. I have his mandolin, though I can't play it like he did.

This Sunday morning we're going to pull out the banjo, fiddle, and mandolin and go to town! We had a great rehearsal tonight, and the bluegrass will be rolling at the 11:00 service. I am pretty pumped about it, if you can't tell.

I regret the fact that I never got to spend much time with my PawPaw. I would love to have had a summer to spend with him, learning how to play those mountain tunes that he loved.

Someday, though...someday!