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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A carpenter’s daughter am I but I do so love music. So I built myself a lap dulcimer of fine wild cherry and walnut; I used my late Father’s old jigsaw, cutting each plank into an elongated guitar shape. Into the fingerboard, I measured, cut and hammered fret wire and carefully rasped away the roughened metal edges, so I could play without any harm. I sanded each one to a velvety caress, steamed wood, shaped, and clamped sides into place; a future musical vision, not just a typical hog fiddle but, a fine tranquilizing music box. On the top, I cut out flying birds and wood-burned, curly, swirling vines. I glued it all together carefully; making sure to wipe down all of the sides. When it was dry, I varnished it and then I sanded more. So many layers brought out the woods luster. No words explain the joy inside as my heartstrings did began to flutter. Installing the pegs to hold the strings; I carefully placed my screws then turning, turning carefully until they were solid there; I adhered my bridge to the top. Upon it then, I placed my strings; adjusting the bridge, and tuned it up. Oh, glorious be, such celestial sound as across the strings, I dragged my thumb. Such a magnificent harmonic thing; ah, the way those strings had rung. Off to YouTube I did go, for lessons I knew I’d find; and when I play my dulcimer, it’s serenity sublime!
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