Time for a bit of lutherie techno-babble

I've been working on three instruments. I started them more than two years ago, but building time is hard to come by on an average day. When I really need to make progress, I wind up doing most of my work between midnight and 2 a.m. I've been putting in a lot of those late nights recently because aside from needing to get these instruments into the (very patient) players' hands, there is a convention with a competition coming up in November that I would like to have an instrument for. If I can reach a point where I can start varnishing before the middle of October, I think I'll make it.

I share what I do online, both on Facebook and Instagram. I like answering questions for people who know little if anything about the process, and comparing notes and techniques with fellow luthiers who may do some steps differently. I make a point to stop and take a picture when I'm at a stage that would be visually interesting, but I don't share everything.

Among the things I don't tend to share are certain setbacks or mistakes. Not really because I'm embarrassed—mistakes happen and are often a good learning/teaching opportunity—but because the kinds of things that come up would take too long to explain, and I don't have a lot of time to spare. There are also sometimes things I have to ponder and make decisions about that are equally hard to explain succinctly. So I thought I might take a moment to lay out an example of that kind of problem here.

The most recent step I've been working on is graduating my back plates. I get the arching—the curvature of the outside of the plate—finished first, and then the scooping out of the inside of the plate is done with a combination of goals in mind.

As with most steps in violin making, I start with the largest possible tool, and work my way down to tools that remove smaller amounts of wood as the process becomes more refined. In the case of graduating, I start with large arching gouges, then move down to finger planes, and finally to scrapers.

 

 

I wrap my fingertips but I still got a small blister this round

 

So the factors involved that inform what wood I move from where and how much are: Thickness forming certain symmetrical patterns, tap tones related to the final pitches created on the top plate, flexibility, and weight. 

I have some basic patterns I learned in school that I form by measuring in from the edges of the plate to areas known as the break points and stop, as well as a "thin spot" that parallels the outline, the center, and some transition places. I check the thickness of the plate at these points with a set of calipers, and keep adjusting until I have the symmetry I want and the measurements I'm looking for. The school patterns are a starting point. I have a few ways of flexing the plate in my hands to see if it feels right, and if it's too stiff, I keep removing wood until I like it better.

I also start checking tap tones. There are two I'm interested in: One where you hold the plate at the thin spot along the upper bass bout and tap where the soundpost will eventually go, and one where you hold it in that soundpost area and tap a lower edge. I hum the pitches I hear into a tuner (currently using a link on my laptop) and note the pitches. Ideally, I want that first tap tone to be within a whole step of the octave tap tones I got when graduating my top plate, and the second tap tone to be a third, fourth, or fifth away from the first. My teacher's mantra about this, however, was "Don't hang on tap tones." They are the least important of the factors I'm trying to achieve, but still of interest, and if I can manipulate them to where I want, I do.

The final thing is weight (measured in grams) which I'm rather new to. We didn't discuss weight as a factor in school, but I suspect it generally falls in line when you accomplish the first three things. I discovered in discussions with luthiers over the past few years how many prioritize weight in the graduating process. The weight to aim for varies based on density and quality of the wood, but there is still a range that is useful to know.

Viola plate telling me how much more wood to remove

Now with all of those factors laid out, here's how my graduating went this round. 

The Amati model violin that I'm making for my daughter ended up 4g heavier than I wanted, but I like the flexibility. The tap tones were confusing. The top plate was a clear F, but the soundpost tap on the back alternated in my ear between sounding like an F# (yay!) or a C# (boo!). I know there are overtones, and both pitches are probably present, but I feel better when I get one clear pitch. I really didn't want to go thinner anywhere. I was pushing it with my measurements because I wanted to bring it into the better weight range, but I decided since the flexibility was there, I'm not going to worry about the last bit of weight. I can't drop below certain numbers without compromising structural integrity. Here's a picture of the plate held up in front of my bench light so you can appreciate how thin it is.

The viola I managed to get down to a weight I'm happy with, and good flexibility. The tap tones I think are okay, but the top was the one this time where the pitches were confusing, so it was hard to know what to match to. The graduation was definitely on the thin side, but that's where it apparently needed to be in order to flex properly.

The Guarneri model violin as of this writing I am still pondering a bit. I'm scared to take it any thinner, but I still don't like the way it's flexing, and the weight is almost 10g too heavy. The tap tones are great, but I'll probably have to sacrifice those to trying to make the plate less stiff. But I have no idea where to take the weight from right now. I may switch to tuning my bass bars for a while and come back to it.

Part of what makes violin making interesting is that it's never the exact same process twice, and there are always ways to improve your skills. Occasionally a step will go perfectly, and there is certainly satisfaction in that. But most of the time there is problem solving to do, and new circumstances to try and hone your abilities. 

I think often about my mom describing how as an artist, when she used to work almost exclusively in watercolors, that the day a painting came out exactly as she had imagined it and there were no surprises, it inspired her to move on to a new medium. Craft is about replicating things cleanly. Art is about exploring something new. The beauty in violin making is working in that crossroads, where you are creating a tool that needs to work properly, and also making it uniquely your own.

Each new instrument gives me the chance to try and improve upon what I've done before. I can't wait to hear how these latest instruments sound. And I already have ideas for the next batch.

Summery Summary

 

This summer has been a lot, and it went by too fast. Time to jot some of it down before it all slips away!

On the travel end of things, it's been a simpler year. No mandolin adventures abroad, no camping trips or visits out west. We managed a trip to our cottage in Michigan for a few days where the highlight was that we finally had both the money and sense to arrange for someone to deep clean it before we got there. We don't have enough time when we visit to both clean it and relax, and the point of going is to relax, so the cleaning was overdue. The maid was wonderful, and even found a new arrangement for the twin size beds upstairs that at first we balked at because it was new (and at the cottage we seldom strive for "new") but after a few moments had to concede was much better.

Cookouts and walks and board games. I think often about how my grandmother used to spend a full month at the cottage every year, and how nice it would be to settle in there like that. Someday. When I'm not as needed to do so many school repairs over summer.

 

 

 

We also had someone come in and update all the electrical stuff, which was another thing that was overdue. Now we can do exciting things like use the microwave for more than 30 seconds at a time without tripping the breaker.

Unfortunately, we may need to budget for a new roof at the cottage as the next big thing. I really don't want to pay for another roof. We had to do that on our first house, the garage for that house, our current house, the violin store building, and my husband's childhood home in Oregon before we could sell it this summer. That's too many roofs! Oh, and selling a house two time zones away? Not fun. But after two years it was time and I'm glad someone will get to enjoy living in that nice little neighborhood.

The other travel we did this summer was all related to the Celebrating Women Luthier's exhibit. I had the two instruments I'd made for two of my kids on display, along the scroll I carved that will go on the third soon. It was a marvelous exhibit that started at Potter Violins in the Washington DC area, and then moved on to Reuning and Son in NYC (down the street from Carnegie Hall), a surprise stop at the Reuning and Son shop in Boston, and finally at Sapp Violins in the Chicago area.

We did a road trip to NYC (with fun stops to stay with family in Ohio each direction), and that was amazing. I don't normally get to include my family in my luthier-world events, but at Reuning and Son I was part of a panel discussion where my mom, husband, kids, brother, and sister in law all got to attend. I loved that. My brother and his wife arranged for us to stay in their next door neighbor's place (which was vacant at just the right time) in Washington Heights, which is always a joy. Prettiest part of Manhattan in my opinion, and we enjoyed walks to Fort Tryon Park and the Cloisters. We ate well mostly because we ate in most nights and my sister in law is an incredible cook. We also ate out at a Turkish restaurant one night that we could bring the dogs to. And not a typical stop on most visitors' trips to NYC, but I was really pleased to get to see my brother's new office at the Child Mind Institute.

In no particular order, here are some New York pictures:

View of the Hudson River on our walk to the Cloisters.

 Kids at the obligatory visit to the Nintendo Store, and at the Cloisters.

 

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 Dog cousins!

Homemade lime cheesecake with fresh berries at the end of a delicious feast our final night.

 

Insanely intricate miniature carvings on display at the Cloisters. (I own a lot of tools, and I have no idea how I would approach trying to carve something like this.)

 

Aden on the balcony of the room she stayed in.

 

Subway Domino!

  

My brother's apartment is both the doors on the left, and the place we stayed is the door on the right. Interestingly, those two side by side apartments are technically in different buildings. We never take it for granted that we have such a lovely place to stay when we are in New York. Also, Pepper!

 

Outside the new digs for the Child Mind Institute! They have some excellent art inside. Also, Domino the subway dog in a bag!

 

Some of my family and friends at Reuning and Son for my panel talk. Such a pretty space!

Panel selfie!

It worked out very well for me that I crossed paths with a friend heading to DC in time to deliver my instruments to the beginning of the Celebrating Women Luthiers exhibit, and that the last stop was in Batavia IL where I could not only attend the opening, but pick my instruments up at the end of the show. The event at Sapp Violins was incredibly nice. I got to drive in with a fellow luthier, and meet my other brother there and show him around. We arrived early and stayed late and enjoyed every minute of it. Here's even a shot of someone playing one of my instruments, which is always a treat.

Speaking of lutherie... I've been doing my best to make progress on the two violins and viola I've been working on forever. For a plethora of reasons, I'm behind schedule, but my current goal is to maybe have something done in time to enter in this fall's Violin Society of America competition. We'll see.

 

 

The main impediment to my work lately has been pain. 

My right knee started to hurt back in February, and by St Patrick's Day, I ended up in urgent care because I couldn't walk. After x-rays and ultrasounds I still can't tell you what's wrong with it, but they sent me to PT before opting for anything invasive. PT helped, although I honestly am never sure if the main factor for healing is simply time. About a month ago the physical therapist gave my right knee a passing grade and let me go. Now the left knee is failing in the same way. I'm doing the exercises I learned in PT, but it's hard. Some nights the pain keeps me awake. Moving in any way is difficult. You don't realize how much you twist and shift your legs in bed until it hurts every time you do it. 

Chronic pain is demoralizing. It lures your focus from everything you'd rather be doing, and it's boring.

And sitting on any chair where my knees are pitched too high is excruciating. I've been avoiding mandolin rehearsals this summer, partly because after ten minutes in a folding chair my knee feels like it's screaming at me. I may have to bring some kind of cushion when orchestra starts up soon or I don't think I'll get through it.

I have another appointment with the sports doctor soon, and I hope she can help. (Considering how much I have always detested running, the idea that my injury is connected in any way to something like "sports" is very funny to me.) I miss being able to walk without having to think about it.

Fun things this summer!

My kids have really upped their game with Mother's Day breakfast in bed.

I started a little Domino painting on our garage, but I can't finish it until my knees are good enough to get that low again. I don't think the dog approves.

The goofiest non-violin project in my shop is gluing up the oddest snow globe I've ever seen. One of my kids bought it for her little sister last year, and it's inexplicably a seagull standing next to a littler seagull in a snow globe. So I need to put that back together at some point.

Between graduation requirements and participation in the National Honor Society, Quinn needs lots of volunteer hours. We did some of that this summer by signing up every few weeks to make bag lunches for an organization called Street Angels that works with homeless people in our area. She's gotten really good at shopping for, and assembling, 50 lunches at a time.

I think my favorite summer project has been making a cube mosaic display for my violin shop. I have wanted to do that since we opened in 2008, and I finally decided I needed to make it happen rather than think about it. It took me a while to build the box, and then find the right dolly to prop it up, but I'm happy with the result. Although there was a prolonged issue with getting my bulk cubes. I ordered 240 stickerless speed cubes to start, but after playing with some designs, decided it would be worth it to double the number of them to make a more detailed display. I ordered another 240 cubes, but through a mix up, I got sticker cubes. I returned those then had to wait for the stickerless ones to be back in stock. When those arrived, they didn't match the original cubes! I wound up exchanging the original box of cubes for more cubes that would match the newer ones. So that was more complicated and drawn out than I imagined it would be.

Mismatched cubes

480 cubes is a lot of cubes

 

In the end it all worked out, and I love the display. We run photos through a grid generator online that breaks the picture down into pixels a dozen cubes at a time, then I arranged the cube faces and Quinn lines them all up in the box. We've done two pictures so far, and plan to change it up again soon.

The only concert I played this summer was for Juneteenth with the Black Diaspora Symphony Orchestra. It was a powerful program that included pieces I feel lucky to have gotten the opportunity to play. The one I can't stop thinking about is

Dayvin Hallmon conducting rehearsal

Seven Last Words of the Unarmed by Joel Thompson. It's one of those things that is hard to recommend in a way, because it's devastating. But also very beautiful. It was emotional to play and kind of wrecked me a bit more each time we played it. This is an important composition that deserves to be much better known. 

I felt the same way about the music featured in the NYC concert of women composers at the lutherie exhibit. Some of the best music out there remains obscure because it isn't in the standard repertoire. We need to put more music by underrepresented groups front and center for all our benefit.

It's hard to stir the people in our house out of our own quiet projects, but we did go see a drone show downtown. We watched it near the North Point Water Tower. I really liked something akin to a fireworks show without the noise. (Domino does better with fireworks explosions in our neighborhood than Chipper did, but it still bothers her.)

There were several things we expected to do this summer that we either didn't get to or didn't finish, but I was proud of Aden for doing some work with the 3D printer. She made a small dog for a friend that was only a few inches tall, and really cute. One day she will make us a Domino design we can print out. Mona has continued to crank out more and more amazing plushies for her Etsy shop. (Check out the butter cats and the cheese mice!)

The main thing I'm annoyed not to have gotten to by now is my novel. I hired a lovely editor this year to give me notes, and I finally have a direction in mind for when I edit it. I just need actual time to sit down and do it. 

Time has been hard to come by this summer, but thankfully at work my assistant came back again and helped me get dozens of cellos fixed for the school system over the past couple of months. Cello work is particularly hard for me when it hurts to stand. So work has been extra busy, but thanks to my assistant, it didn't kill me.

We were hoping to organize a trip to Six Flags for Quinn and her friends before summer was up, but that required planning on the part of the kids involved, so that was likely doomed from the start. (This generation is impressive in many ways, but planning things is not one of their strong suits.) 

I can't believe school starts next week. Although I appreciate the abandonment of the mid-August calendar this year which got Quinn a longer summer than usual. She's a senior. My last kid in K-12! How did it go by so quickly?

Rufus King High School

 

I'm glad Aden was home this summer. I'm glad Mona is nearby. I'm assuming once Quinn decides on a college that she'll be home next summer before we deliver her to some new campus. But there is no way to know if we'll have another whole summer like this one with all five of us in the same place able to spend time with one another on a daily basis if we wish. I hope so. But I'm not counting on it.

Here's to diving into fall! I'm excited to see what awaits.

Heritage

I recently played a concert where we were asked to wear clothing that represented our culture or heritage, and in lieu of that, concert black or something colorful. This was a Juneteenth concert, so I understood the sentiment.

However, in my case, I genuinely didn't know what to do with that.

What am I?

I am half Jewish, but not in a way that plays out beyond attending weddings and funerals. It's out there, but it's not mine. There's Hungarian and Latvian stuff in my family tree, but not taught to me by anyone I know. There's German heritage on my mom's side that includes my great-great-grandparents here in Milwaukee coming from Germany, but I can't tell you specifics. I know when Ian and I visited Berlin, we were amused to find the food in the hostel to be essentially the same thing we'd get served at my grandma's. Occasionally when we eat a standard looking dinner with meat, potatoes, and a vegetable we'll now call it ethnic food. 

There is nothing in that mix that seems appropriate to don as "my heritage." I certainly wasn't going to show up to the concert in a dirndl.

Culturally, I'm just an American. More specifically, a Midwesterner. Which means whatever I'm wearing on any given day counts as cultural attire. That's only (potentially) interesting if I'm somewhere other than the Midwest. I look a bit out of place in New York. I know I stood out in India. But in Milwaukee? Being American in America is just the air we breathe. Not much to see.

There are different ways to approach heritage. For me, it's only of interest if it's directly personal. I love telling my kids stories about my parents and grandparents, and sharing any stories they passed down to me about people they were related to. I'm curious about connections that feel alive. Tracing back family trees beyond a point where no one has stories to share doesn't generally hold my attention.

My husband is someone who does genealogical research and has traced back his family tree pretty thoroughly. He's stopped at graveyards to locate ancestors, and looked through census records. His heritage includes Germans on one side, and Native Americans on another. When people ask where he's from, he usually says the West Coast, and if they press it, he claims to be ethnically Californian, and if they push it further he can trace family back to Oklahoma from the Trail of Tears. Does he consider this his heritage in the sense that he's been handed down traditions or lore? No. He grew up in Oregon, but he's lived in the Midwest at this point longer than he was there. Researching his family tree has more to do with his appreciation of history in general, and he wants to share with our kids their place in it.

I understand that on one level, but for myself, once you search back enough distance that it's reduced to data rather than stories, it doesn't belong to me more than to anyone else. 

I also believe we shouldn't be chained to people in the past by accident of birth. I happen to have a lovely family that I enjoy being connected to. But I don't get to claim credit for any of their accomplishments merely by association. Just as I don't have to feel guilt for things my ancestors did. It would be really cool if I came from a family of luthiers that went back generations, and I could trace my skills to specific people in the past, but I would still have to make my own mark. And if someone in my family tree was awful, that's not on me. I have a responsibility to do the right thing now, regardless of the past or where I came from.

I'm sure I would find it distressing if I found out I had ancestors that owned slaves, but primarily because the concept itself is horrible overall. My husband did find slaveholders in his family tree, but those particular relatives were Native American. That one is complicated to process. 

In my home growing up, we had rather loose traditions. There was just stuff we did, but it wasn't imbued with any sense of obligation to the past. We had a secular kind of Christmas because Christmas is fun. I know my dad was never comfortable with a Christmas tree in the house, but he understood why that was a nice thing for his children. I asked him once why he still referred to himself as Jewish since he wasn't practicing, and he said you can't be the first person to turn your back on thousands of years of an unbroken lineage without feeling the weight of it behind you.

Ian and I have raised our children in the same general way we knew growing up. We do things that have become part of the American landscape like secular Christmas and Easter. We love costumes at Halloween. We like repeating the same menu every Thanksgiving and crossing our fingers over whether or not the orange jello will set or be served as goo. But many of those activities that we consider traditional are evolving as our kids have become adults. I like that we do things because we choose to.

In my mind, having those moments be chosen rather than dictated by a particular heritage makes them more special, not less. I remember several years ago when I was suffering through something complicated, and told my family that we could forego anything to do with Mother's Day that year. It wasn't worth the hassle and I didn't feel particularly deserving. But then that Sunday morning rolled around, and there was Quinn at the end of my bed with a breakfast tray and the annual small bouquet of lilacs. I expressed surprise since I had said it wasn't necessary, and she told me it "felt important." I still tear up when I think about that.

I find other people's dedication to heritage anywhere from charming to perplexing. I understand why if a person had a religious or cultural tradition that they loved and was handed down over generations why they would continue it. I also appreciate wanting to feel a connection to places and cultures that were stolen from someone. Things that provide inspiration and comfort are important. But tradition isn't synonymous with good, and I can think of many examples of groups or rituals that don't add to the betterment of the world. When I see people clinging to symbols of the Civil War and defending it as heritage, while willfully ignoring vile parts of that history, I am anywhere from confused to appalled.

Weddings are a big moment for heritage. I remember planning my wedding and expressing to my dad that I wasn't sure what to draw on, since we didn't have anything we followed that came with a particular set of expectations. He said I had all of human history and culture to choose from and to pick what appealed to me, but that's not really true. I don't remember public discussions about cultural appropriation back in the 90s, but even then I knew not to "jump a broom" at my wedding just because I thought it looked neat. Traditions are supposed to mean something, and treating other people's heritage like a grab bag is disrespectful.

When my brother married a woman from India, they had wedding ceremonies in both Ohio and Calcutta. It was amusing to see my sister-in-law express a fascination with whatever was traditional to do here, and enthusiasm to do any of it, but my brother preferred to be different since few of those traditions meant anything to him. Then in India, I watched the reverse, where my sister-in-law rolled her eyes at many elements expected of her at a traditional ceremony and my brother was all in. 

Other people's heritage always looks more interesting. When I lived in Mexico for a summer back in college, I loved the culture there. And one of the teachers at the language school I was attending told me that Americans were the most interesting of all the international students to ask where they were from, because there was always more than one answer. Only the Americans consistently claimed multiple sets of heritage. When asked where they were from, they always said "America" first, and immediately followed it up with whatever ancestry they knew, such as German or Jamaican or Korean.

Ultimately, I think people should feel free to drop whatever traditions from their heritage that don't serve them well in this time and place, and to embrace whatever parts give them security and purpose.

I asked my youngest daughter during the intermission of that Juneteenth concert what she felt about the question of heritage as it relates to our family. She agreed that identifying as anything much beyond being an American or a Midwesterner was a stretch. She liked that we can be creative about what we call tradition in our home. She feels loved and supported and doesn't need to look to the past for that. What we've made for ourselves is enough.

So what did I finally choose to wear? A top handed down from my mom that she made decades ago. It's fun, it's colorful, it's unique, and my mom made it. Since she also made me, I can't think of a better way to represent my heritage than that.

Dear Dad, 2024

Dear Dad,

This is the ninth Father's Day without you. Did I remember to call you on the last one in 2015? I hope so. I don't remember.

I was just glancing through pictures from back then, and it's odd to see how young Quinn was in particular. She was only eight when you died. There is such a world of difference between eight and seventeen. How much of you does she remember? So many of those memories must include your being sick or needing a walker. That's so unfair. I wish she had more experiences like mine, where you shared information about history and the world at the dinner table, surprised us with poems, dashed around city streets going from one gallery or bookstore to the next, always greeting me with a smile, and tucking a twenty dollar bill in my palm at every visit claiming it was overdue allowance. 

We never really got an allowance growing up, did we. There was a week where I remember I got a dime, and my brothers each got a nickel, and then there was a stretch where you had a stack of comic books you drew from once a week to mostly the boys because after my first couple of copies of Magnus the Robot Fighter, I lost interest. Then randomly in high school you thought twenty a month or a week was deserved for no reason I can think of. We had paper routes, so we didn't need it, but I liked the extra record money. I guess my approach to allowance with my kids has been the same. I'm happy to just get them what they need when they ask, or hand them money if they are going somewhere they might need it, but they seldom ask for anything. They have what they need. They don't feel entitled to more. I feel like my brothers and I grew up with that same sense. When I hear people say if you don't pay kids for chores they won't appreciate the value of money, I never buy it. I think it depends on the kids and the circumstances and the examples they see around them. The example I got was to make good choices, and books and art were among those.

So, let me think what I would update you on if I could call you this year.

I guess first is to let you know that Mom is okay. She had a scary fall down the front steps on her birthday back in October, and that was a mess. She broke her heel and had to be off her foot for months. It still hurts, and she's moving a little slow, but she's healed up remarkably well. Arno and Barrett and I took turns going out to help. She had lots of support from friends. Physical therapy made a difference, and she's back to her regular life as far as I can see. She's making beautiful work, including finishing up the project with the small cabinets to house books based on different trees. You'd be amazed. I know she still misses having you there to help her determine when a piece she's working on is officially done. All the current work is stunning. 

Mom actually told us a really funny story about you recently. We were in Pleasant Ridge for an unplanned evening (after touring U of M we were supposed to go straight to the cottage, but decided to visit Mom and stay there a night and she put together a meal so much more elegant and tasty than anything I could have done if given a week to think about it) and we started telling Dad stories. And she described how the first time she tried to cook for you in your apartment she opened the oven to find the smallest skillet she'd ever seen, and your response was, "Oh! I lost that six months ago!" She also said your cabinets were filled with empty boxes you found attractive, and things like a chipped teapot that couldn't be used but were all aesthetically pleasing. We may have a gathering later this year just to record everyone's stories about you (so they aren't lost like a tiny skillet in an oven).

The U of M tour was fun. We've taken four official college tours with Quinn so far: Beloit, Lawrence, U of I Chicago, and U of M. So that's two small schools in small towns, one small school in a big city, and a very big school. My inclination is to have Quinn not too far away so she still has access to things like home and the doctor she likes etc., and in a small enough environment that she doesn't fall through the cracks if she's not assertive. But big schools have advantages, too, I just worry. I just want her to have a good college experience. She doesn't know what she wants to study, but she's good at all subjects and loves to learn.

Quinn's a lot like you in many ways. She's quiet and serious and smart, but with a really wry sense of humor that takes people by surprise. She's particularly good at Spanish and art and writing, and of course geography still. She joined the debate club and the National Honor Society this past school year, and she also had a paid internship with some sort of sustainability company. She has nice friends, her grades are good.... The only thing I can think of to improve upon would be for her to practice piano regularly. I ask her every semester if she wants to continue lessons, because I know it's frustrating for both her and her teacher that she's not putting in the work, but she insists she wants to keep going. If she wants lessons she can have lessons, I just don't know what's happening from her point of view. Anyway, Quinn is lovely. It's easy to imagine how much you would enjoy going with us on college tours.

Mona's doing great. I wish you could see her art. I know you called her out as a genius many years ago, but her aunt recently said the same thing when we were in New York recently. I'm not entirely sure what's happening in her apprenticeship because she's very private about her life, but I know she loves the things she's learning and appreciates her teacher. There is so much more interesting stuff to know about tattooing than I ever realized, and she loves learning it all. I really think this path is a good fit. Plus she loves having her own apartment above the store, and she regularly pops in on us at home to hang out, especially now that Aden's home for the summer. I love seeing all the siblings together.

Aden's taking the slow path in college, which is fine by me. UW Stout is affordable, and she loves it, and she's still grappling with managing ADHD and anxiety and performing well in her classes. She's very good at what she's doing, and has won several awards so far, but turning in regular assignments, etc., is still a struggle. She's made some beautiful art, some of which I've had framed to hang in the house. Her current obsession is sea monkeys. Aden continues to be a delight, and I'm glad she wants to take advantage of being in  There are lots of classes she still wants to take, and I don't have any timeline she needs to fit into. 

How many years were you in school? Hamilton College, Univ of Geneva, Columbia, Wayne State.... I think I'm missing something. I have it in my head that you were at Teacher's College for a bit, but Mom disagrees. I know I wrote all of it down (your entire school and work history) on my laptop years ago where you gave us a hilarious blow by blow of many things, but that was one of the items lost when my computer crashed. I figure if anyone could see the value of taking your time to enjoy being in a learning environment while you can, it's you. So I tell Aden her grandpa would have approved, and to take whatever classes make her happy.

All three kids are so sweet and funny and kind. I worry about them and love spending time with them and wish you could visit with them. You would find each as fascinating as I do. 

Your other granddaughter loves college (of course) and is studying art history and anthropology. I hope I get to see her this summer, maybe at the cottage if we're lucky. Your grandson is bright, creative, funny, and surprising. He had his first cello lesson the other day, and if it sticks, I may wind up building one more cello after all. I really thought I was in the clear and would never need my cello form and templates again! But we'll see. He's one of the few people on Earth I would actually make a cello for.

Oh, and speaking of building, I was just in New York where a couple of my violins were part of a show of women luthiers! It was the second leg of a touring exhibit of instruments, and the showroom was just down the street from Carnegie Hall. You would have loved this trip SO MUCH. I wish you could have been at the makers' brunch with me and Mom and Arno, and I was on a panel talk that I think you would have enjoyed, and the concert that evening (all woman quartet playing music by women composers on instruments in the show) was amazing and you would have loved everything. It's impossible to walk around that city and not think of you with every step. We even walked all the way to the Cloisters on our last afternoon in town (which on my wonky knee was quite a feat). You made it to the Cloisters finally, didn't you? Wasn't that a running joke for a while that you kept meaning to get there, but somehow never did? The whole trip was wonderful, Arno's new office is great, their renovated apartment is incredible.... You should have been there. I wish you could have been.

Ian's good. He spent part of this Father's Day at the violin store running the rental charges. I've been really happy to see him use more of his retired-from-the-Army time to get involved in projects he's interested in, like his Wisconsin Association of Railroad Passengers group, and more Linux things. The other apartment above the violin store freed up, so we made it an office where he can set up the 3D printer, etc. I still need his help running the business, but I want him doing more of what he wants to as he can. Oh, and we're finally in the process of selling his childhood home. It's been two years since his mom passed away, and he agreed it wasn't good for the house or the neighborhood for it to just be sitting. Emotionally that's all still a lot, so I handled as much of that as I could. Losing a parent is awful, so I understood. I wish I didn't understand so well.

I'm trying to get myself unstuck with my writing projects. It's weird that for me being stuck has nothing to do with actual writing. I don't have any trouble writing and have never suffered with any kind of writer's block, but I have a need to finish a project before committing to the next, and the wedding novel has been stalled for years at this point, simply because I don't know what to do with it. I finally decided to send it to an editor and get professional advice. We'll see. She's had it for a couple weeks, which means in my head I feel like the whole book is garbage. Few things are worse than handing someone a book you wrote and then having to wait for them to read it. But it's a start, I hope! I just want to be unstuck and start playing with more of my projects.

Health wise, this year has been annoying. I feel like I was fine, and then I turned 55 and fell to bits. My right knee got all swollen and I couldn't walk for a few weeks. Physical therapy is helping, but yuck. I was kind of relieved when I found out the mandolin orchestra wasn't going to Spain this summer, because I don't think I could handle airports, etc. I'm on a CPAP machine now, which is stupid looking but I like sleeping through the night. I'm wearing aligners again because something was off with my bite. I had another biopsy, which was uncomfortable to say the least, but the results were benign. I have a thyroid check coming up, I need meds for my blood pressure, and I have another colonoscopy scheduled in about a month. I figure since colon cancer took both you and my grandpa, that's not something I can afford to ignore. That's too many things! I don't like going to the doctor. I have thoughts for when the last child is out of the house for getting both Ian and myself in a better eating and exercise routine, so maybe that will help with some of it.

I'm sure there was more I wanted to say, but I'm getting tired and I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow. I do miss our Monday chats. I don't reach for the phone anymore when I think of something to tell you, but I still think of things I would say all the time.

I miss you. I miss you so very much and it still hurts. Is there an age that's too old to just want your dad? If there is, I'm not near it yet.

Ha, the dog just came in to nudge me into petting her, and I make that same funny wgshkk! wgshkk! sound to her that you used to do to our cat and dog. Domino is such a cutie. She'd have let you pet her!

I love you, Dad.

Kory