I like to think I got the Head Hillbilly's number. That he's an open book. That I know exactly what page he's on in life. And then the feller does this.
Gifts me an Ashford spinning wheel. What the... How?... When?....
I was taken totally by surprise.
You see me and HH have a groove we roll in. One we have been in pert 35 years. He's the ying to my yang, the Larry to my Mo, Sonny to my Cher (before her cheese slid entirely off it's cracker). We've got the "I've got you babe" on permanent replay.
So tell tale signs could be easily detected if one or the other has slipped out of the groove. Cause it does happen occassionally in our world of wedded bliss. But whomever's wheel has temporarily slipped out the groove will be, sooner or later, nudged back into said groove and all will be well once again in the land of matrimony.
I'm lovin' the wheel, I'm lovin' H.H., I'm just not lovin' being off my game.
And dadgum it, I'm gettin' a bit rusty with age and H.H., he's gettin' smoother than a fine tuned fiddle.
Hit it babe.
Let's roll babe.
Babe?
