The first crop of fiddles came to my door today. Five large boxes of Cremona Student models were waiting, each with their own case, bow, and rosin cake inside. I opened one up and felt as excited for its new owner as I was the first time I held my own fiddle. I got the bridge set up, the strings in tune, and rosined the bow and was thrilled at the quality of it. Compared to my first fiddle these were museum pieces. The long strokes of the bow were sweet after a day driving to Albany in a truck without air conditioning. 97 degrees and farm work I am okay with. 97 degrees and Albany I am not. I never was that into concrete and volume.
Hot days this week. I spend them all farming, writing, riding, shooting arrows and running. This place is a medieval boot camp, but I am feeling the healthiest I have felt in months. I got my highest score of the summer at the last team practice, double what I started with. It's amazing seeing what a few months of practice can teach the body and mind. Now when I aim an arrow, it matters.
Merlin and I train nearly every day. He and I made some progress today thanks to a garbage truck, but that's another story. We will ride on. If he think he can out-stubborn me he's got the wrong girl.
Storms on the way, followed by fireflies. I am ready for the barn.