Pretty good is a long way to go

In the past year, Whit has rekindled his love for the guitar. His music has become a staple of our everyday lives. And we love it.

When I was growing up, I played the violin. And now that I am getting into HBO's second season of Treme (you should really watch it if you're into music at all), I have decided I want to pick back up the violin. (Enter daydreams of Whit and I starting a two-man band.)

So yesterday we went out and bought a cheap violin for me to practice on. (I have a really nice violin back home in the States, gathering dust in some random closet). But as I picked up this new violin, all the memories came rushing back. My beloved violin teacher, a kindly old man named Mr. Guess, tapping his foot while I played, a smile creeping up on his face. "Pretty good," he would say after I damn well perfected the song after months and months of practice. "Pretty good."

On my first day back on the wagon, I broke two strings trying to tune it. Nearing tears, I gave up.

But Whit would not have it. He immediately drove back to the music store and bought two more E strings.

So today I picked it up again. An hour or so later, we can now play our first tune: "The Star of the County Down."

We are having so much fun with it already. Now, our neighbors above and beneath us, probably would not call this "fun."