Shredding the rejection letters and mountain dulcimers

    I was looking for a binder today. We have lots but there didn't seem to be any empty ones of the size I wanted. I went to my book shelf wondering if I could clean one out. There was a nice red one there which contained all the rejection slips I had received when I was sending poetry out to magazines in the 1980's. Some of them were quite detailed, some were just form letters. At the time I regarded each one as confirmation that I wasn't good enough, or life wasn't fair, or the editors didn't understand me or some other such reason for self-indulgent whining. As I looked at the pile I was amazed that one editor had taken the time to write me a two page critique by hand and suggested that she'd like to see the poem again if I wanted to revise it. Wow, there's someone who was serious about her job! At the time I tossed the poem and the letter in the pile.

     It didn't take me very long to decide that I didn't need to hang onto anything that was in that binder so I cheerfully shredded the lot. I wanted an empty binder to house all the information I've been collecting about mountain dulcimers and pickin' sticks – essentially a mountain dulcimer that has three strings and is played in the same position as a guitar rather than on a lap. I am beyond excited about the one I'm building from a cedar 2X4 for the Southern Alberta Woodworkers' Society 2X4 contest in March and I can't help comparing how I feel about what I'm doing now with how I felt when I was sending out poetry. 

    When I sent out work in the hope of getting it published there was certainly a longing for recognition but there was never a sense of joy. I liked writing and the people I hung around with sent out poetry for publication and read at open readings so I did too. I always wanted something more, the magazine with my name in the table of contents, the book with my name on it. Yet when I got published that was never enough.

     In some ways it's lovely to be older and retired. I delight in being in the shop and trying to make a dulcimer that I can actually learn to play. I already know that it won't sound as good as I would like because I have learned so many things about what I will do differently with the next one. Playing a mountain dulcimer is supposed to be easy compared to a guitar and I hope that isn't false advertising. The idea of playing an instrument I have actually made makes me grin each time I think about it.

     I love to learn new things and always have. I'm at a point now where I give myself permission to move from one interest to another. In the past I've felt guilty because I should be devoting time to something that used to enthral me, opera, drama, hiking, cross-country skiing, canoeing, writing poetry, cycling, running. I've loved them all and moved on from each to another. At this point in my life I'm not going to be a great poet or a great musician or a great woodworker but I'm tremendously fortunate that I've always been able to find something that engages me, and, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up!

     The whole dulcimer thing happened because of a YouTube video suggested in my feed. I follow a lot of woodworkers on the net and one suggestion was a shop tour of a dulcimer maker. Of course I watched it and that was the entrance to the rabbit hole. Seeing the dulcimer maker at work in his shop and hearing his story made me want to find out more. I found a site where someone had made a mountain dulcimer with only hand tools. When I looked at his photos and plans I wondered if I could build one out of a 2X4 for the SAWS contest. I've spent hours in front of my laptop looking up, the history of the dulcimer, specifications for dulcimers, listening to dulcimer music and reading about how to decide where to put the frets. Turns out the original mountain dulcimers were made from whatever scraps of wood folks could get their hands on and sometimes they used bent nails as frets. I happened to have a couple of cedar 2X4's in the garage and the hardware is available on the net. I'm at the point where I need to cut slots for the frets and if I don't get them right the instrument will be perpetually out of tune. I've been scared to start this part of the build but if I ever want this to be an instrument instead of a box with a stick attached I need to get going. I've decided to use an non-technical method of placing the frets – Richard's ear. That way I can blame him if it doesn't sound right. I won't talk about the fact that my sawing might be inaccurate because it's always nice to have someone else to blame! Good thing my long-suffering husband is a good sport!

     I'm not stopping with dulcimers either; next week I'm going to start building a ukulele under the tutelage of a luthier. That will frustrate me to the point of wanting to tear my hair out and it will have me literally jumping up and down in the middle of the kitchen with excitement. I can't ask for a better adventure than that! I'll keep you posted.

To blog or not to blog, that is the question

 Why do I do this? Write this blog, I mean. I was wondering this the other day as I got behind on my self-imposed quota of entries for the year. I suppose writing helps me sort myself out and, I like to write. I don't like it enough to make serious space for it every day, or to want to write the Great Canadian Novel. I write a journal entry every day and have done, off and on, for much of my life. I have journals piled up in boxes on a shelf and someday I may go back and read through them or, once I kick the bucket, someone else may consign all of them to paper recycling or use them as fire starter. By that time it certainly won't make any difference to me.

I guess writing is a bit like woodworking: it's the process as well as the end result that matters. I like getting things down. It's a way of figuring out what I want to say and also, once I've said it, it's a way of moving on. I also use writing as a kind of punctuation to say to myself, this is important; remember this. It's easy for me to get bogged down and grumpy at the world and when I focus on the things that are going well, the everyday things that make me smile, it helps me see the world and myself with a kinder eye. I don't want to come across as terminally cheery because I'm far from that; however when I remind myself in words of the 'good bits' in my own life it makes me feel a better. So, I guess I write first for myself.

Why don't I just keep my ramblings in a notebook instead of publishing them?  Knowing that someone other than me is reading this makes me more thoughtful and more careful. Is this really what I want to say? I can't take back the words once I've sent them off into the cloud. Putting my thoughts in the form of a blog helps me the check-in with myself on what is and isn't worth saying. In hindsight I may change my mind but, all I can do is honestly consider the question in the moment and then let the words go. Knowing you are out there, that some of you read each post I make and look forward to my new ones helps to keep me at it. It's about companionship as we stumble through day-to-day existence. We can be in different cities, time zones and countries and still connect.

Thanks for the company; it's important.

Challenges

Well here it is February 2018 and I haven't posted for a while. I've have half a dozen drafts on various subjects and it's been a challenge finding one that I actually want to publish. I've been thinking a lot about challenges lately, both the ones we choose and the ones we don't. It's been a tough couple of months. My brother-in-law died in December and my father-in-law had another stroke on Christmas Eve. Close friends have also experienced deaths in their families. In an effort to balance the worry and sadness I've challenged myself to find moments of delight. I follow a couple of bird photography pages on Facebook and every day they provide me with photos of Alberta and Canadian birds. I'm in awe, not only of the birds but also of the photographers who get out there in the snow and cold to capture moments in the life of such wonderful creatures.

Tiny Box #2

Tiny Box #3

Of course, a dependable source of delight is my woodwork. I saw a YouTube video on making tiny boxes and decided to give it a try. I've made three so far mostly by hand. I like making the boxes and I like holding them in my hands once they are made. I like the painstaking process of fitting the corners one plane stroke at a time. The boxes aren't perfect but my skills are increasing and I'm very pleased with the results. As I was turning one of the boxes over in my hands I had the crazy idea that I might try to build 100 tiny boxes this year. Practically speaking, I'm behind because I would need to build almost two a week and I have built three in a month; however the absolute improbability of reaching such a goal makes me smile whenever I think about it. What if I really could pull it off? What if I don't pull it off? It simply doesn't matter. It will be fun. It will be a challenge. Thinking about the possibility makes me feel good.

I subscribe to a number of woodworking channels on YouTube and every once in a while I get a suggestion to take a look at a video of someone's workshop. One of the video suggestion was about the workshop of a dulcimer builder. I've never given much thought to dulcimers but down the rabbit hole I went. I watched the suggested video. Then I looked up other dulcimer makers. I read a bit about the history of mountain dulcimers, listened to people play them and found an article on how to make a dulcimer without using any power tools. I was hooked and another idea occurred to me.

Boards for the dulcimer top ready for glue-up

Most years the Southern Alberta Woodworkers Society has a 2X4 contest. You don't actually have to use a 2X4 but you do have to use the equivalent amount of wood. I began to wonder if I could build a mountain dulcimer from a 2X4. My research tells me that the folks who first made dulcimers in the Appalachian mountains used whatever wood they could get their hands on and sometimes they used bent nails for the frets. I decided to use one of the cedar 2X4's that I had in the garage. I ordered fret wire, tuners, and strings off the internet and they should be here in the next couple of weeks. I'm learning how to plane thin pieces of wood by clamping one end to the bench. I'm excited to get out into the shop and start work at the beginning of the day. I've checked the back and top pieces to see what they sound like when I tap them. I don't know exactly what I'm listening for but I know I want wood that rings and doesn't go 'thunk.' I'm a little worried about getting the frets in the right place but I'll take it one step at a time and learn as I go. Of course, once I get a dulcimer built I'll need to learn to play it at least a little and that too, will be challenging and exciting.

I think another reason to attempt a dulcimer is as a precursor to a ukulele build. With the encouragement of a member of SAWS, and partly because of my new desire not to put things off, I contacted a luthier who helps people build their own instruments. I asked if there was a chance I could work with him. He emailed me with a 'yes' and a request that I phone him. I did. We talked and I might be able to start a build as soon as the end of February.

I know there will be frustrations and moments when I wish I had never thought of tiny boxes, dulcimers or ukuleles, but I'm excited by the possibilities. I'll let you know how it goes.