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.