Finished Templates and Molds

     I finished the templates and molds for the classical guitar I'm building for my friend Michael.  Here are a few pictures of everything except the acrylic templates.  We will hopefully be ordering the wood this week.  Then I will begin with the neck and bending the sides.  Should be fun and maybe not too frustrating.

     And here is chapter six.

Chapter Six

The Dark Woods

     “Where are they, Polly?”  cried Keona.  “Are they going to be alright?”

     “The last I could see of them, they were floating down stream on the barge.  I’m sure that they’ll eventually get off and be fine.”  Polly said, quite unsure of that fact.

     “But, how will they find us?  The woods are too thick for us to find them and I don’t know how they would find their way back to us.”  she said, frightened by the thought.

     “You are right about the woods.  We have been separated and the best thing for us to do is to head to the Dillieyard’s village and hope that they will be there when we arrive.”  Polly said.

     “But, what if they’re not there?  How can they find their way without the map?”  Keona said, anxiously.

     “They know to head due North when they cross the river.  Mr. Popper is very resourceful and I’m sure between his knowledge of the woods, and Bon Bon’s sense of direction they will be just fine.”  she said, matter-of-factly.

     “I don’t want to go in the dark woods!”  shouted Thea.

     “I know it is scary, but we have each other and we will be strong as long as we’re together.”  said Polly, trying to comfort the situation.

     “I won’t go!  You can’t make me!”  Thea yelled, and with that she became very serious.

     “Uh oh.” said Polly.  “Please don’t be too serious Thea, it will upset Una.”

     But it was too late.  The more Thea thought about not going into the woods, the more she couldn’t be moved.  The more she couldn’t be moved, the more serious she became.  The more serious she became, the more her powers began to show.  At first she started to change color, from her usual rosy complexion, to a dull gray.  She became duller and grayer, as she began to grow.  As she began to grow her shape changed.  She went from the shape of a little girl, until she was round.  She got grayer and rounder and bigger, until she had become a huge boulder, sitting on the river bank.

     “We’ll never be able to get her in to the woods now!” cried Keona.  “What will we do Polly?”  

     Then it started.  Una had taken one look at her sister, who had turned into a giant rock, and started to whimper.  Her mouth turned into a frown, and her eyes began to fill with tears.

     “Here it comes.”  said Keona, putting her hands over her ears.

     Una began to cry, but this was no ordinary crying.  It sounded like thunderbolts from the heavens, mixed with a thousand people dragging their fingernails across a chalk board, all at the same time.  The sound of car alarms, and fighter jets; of jack hammers and train whistles; of smoke detectors and cell phone ring tones.  

     Polly calmly looked at Una and said,  “Don’t cry.  It will be alright.  I shall sing you a song to make it all better.”   and without a thought, she began to sing the magic song, that only she could sing.

     She held up her hands to form a circle, “Here’s the ball for baby.  Big and soft and round.  Here’s the baby’s hammer.  See how she can pound.”  she sang, as she lightly pounded her open palm with her fist.  “Here’s the baby’s music.  Clapping, clapping so.  Here’s the baby soldiers standing in a row.”  she sang, holding up her ten fingers.  

     Una had started to quiet down slightly, and now only sounded like a rocket ship on lift off.

     “Here’s the way the baby plays, Peak-a Peak-a boo!”   Polly chanted, covering her face and then uncovering it quickly when she shouted “boo”! 

     With that Una started to giggle and smile, although she tried hard not to.  Her crying had calmed to almost the sound of a fog horn.

     “Here’s the baby’s trumpet.  Toot too too too toot.”   Polly hummed, holding her thumb to her mouth and waving her fingers as if they were trumpet valves.  Then she put the index finger of her right hand under the palm of her open left hand and sang,  “Here’s the baby’s parasol to keep the baby dry.  Here’s the baby’s cradle.  Rock a bye.”  Now she had begun to bring her voice down to almost a whisper.  “Rock a bye.”  She sang, gesturing as if she had a baby in her arms.  “Don’t you cry.  Go to sleep.  Baby bye.”  she finished, slowing to a stop.  

     It was quiet.  She looked and Una was asleep.  She felt something on her lap.  Thea had turned back into her self and was sitting on Polly’s lap.

     “How did you sing the magic song, without the Music Water?”  Keona asked, rather puzzled.

     “Well, I don’t know.  I just started singing, because it’s what I always do to calm down Una.  I wasn’t thinking, that without the Music Water, I shouldn’t be able to.”  Polly replied,  quite confused.  And then she had an idea.  “Keona.  Try to sing a little song for me.”

     “But I can’t.  No one can, because the Tigers have taken the Music Water.”  she said, acting as if Polly should have known this.

     “Just try for me please.”  pleaded Polly

     So, Keona opened her mouth and began, but nothing came out.  “I told you.  I can’t sing.”  she said, frustratedly.      

     “Now go over and have a drink of water from my water bottle, and then try again.”  Polly asked.

     Keona drank from the bottle and then opened her mouth.  “Moses supposes his toes they are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously.”  she sang, much to her surprise.  She began to dance and sing over and over again, “Moses supposes his toes they are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously.”  When she finally stopped she asked, “But, how is it possible, Polly.”

     “Get me the map, please.  I think I know.”  Polly said, with confidence.

     Keona brought her the map and she unrolled it and laid it out flat.  “Just as I thought!”  she exclaimed.  “We are here.”  she said pointing to the edge of the Tuffaluktee river next to the dark woods.  “See here, the river goes around these woods, which the Dilleyards live in.  Up here,”  she said pointing to the land upriver from the dark woods.  “is Bear Lake.  It is in a land the local tribesmen call, Little Canada.  I believe this must be where the Tigers live.  They must have put a drop, or more, of the Music Water into Bear Lake.  The Great Tuffaluktee flows in and out of it, and would carry the diluted Music Water all the way here.  My water bottle was empty and I filled it in the river just now!”  she said, excitedly.  “Not only do we have some Water Music for our journey, but we have a good idea where to find the Tigers.  We must fill all our water bottles, but we will save mine to use only if we should need the Music.”  she said.

     After all the excitement, they had a nice cup of tea, and Donkeyhotie ate some tall grass that grew near the river bank.

     “It is time for us to head north through the dark woods.  We must try to gain several miles and set up camp before dark.”  Polly said.

     And so, they entered the dark woods.  The sky couldn’t be seen and the trail was small and overgrown.  It was quiet, of course.  No bird song, or peepers.  No crickers chirping, or bugs buzzing.  Without the Music Water it was deathly quiet.

     “Polly, why haven’t the birds and bugs drank from the river.  If they had it should be noisy with all the life in the woods?”  Thea asked.

     “The animals only drink from the ponds, lakes, and streams.  They are afraid of the Knotty Heads and Hellbenders, and so, won’t go near the river, unless they have to.”  Polly explained.  “I should think that, before the Tigers stole the Music Water, it was probably very noisy in here.”

     They traveled for several hours, deeper and deeper into the dark woods.  The compass would give them direction when they came to a fork in the trail.  It was beginning to get on towards night when Polly stopped them and said, “I think we should set up camp in that clearing.  We can camp next to that large lone tree.”  She pointed to an area that was mostly tall grass, with a few rocks, and one enormous pine tree in the midst.  In this plot of land, they could see the sky.

     Everyone was very tired and so, were thankful to rest and have some supper.  

     “I shall set up the kitchen and cook our supper here by the tree, and we should set up our hammocks on those trees over there in the dark woods.  she said, as she pointed to the woods on her left.  “That way our food won’t attract animals to where we will sleep, and we won’t be bothered by mice and opossums, and such, when we lay down tonight.”

     The girls got their hammocks out of Donkeyhotie’s saddle bags and began to set them up, when they heard a stick snap in the woods.  

     “Shhh.”  whispered Keona.  “Did you here that?”

     “Dak woos!” said Una.

     “I heard it.”  Thea said.  “There’s something out there.”  she said, with a start.

     “Polly.”  Keona whispered.  “There’s something in the dark woods.”

     Polly turned from her camp stove just in time to see four of the biggest panthers she had ever seen.  Two were pure black like night time, with bright yellow eyes.  The other two were reddish brown, with black rings around their tails and snow white paws.  They all had razor sharp, metallic claws and huge ivory teeth.

     “Back slowly over here by me.”  Polly said, trying to stay calm.  “Don’t make any sudden moves, and don’t run.  Keona, reach into the saddle bag and hand me the matches.”  she said, as the panthers drew closer.  

     Keona did as she was told and put the matches into Polly’s hand.

     “This large tree that we are camped by is called a burning tree.  They grow by themselves and stay very dry.  Panthers don’t like fire, and with this match I should be able to... “  Polly said, as she lit the match and touched it to a single needle on the tree.

     There was a huge roar as the whole tree burst into flames.  With that, the panthers jumped back and Keona ran for the water bottle with the Water Music in it.  She took a long drink and then began to dance a silly dance around the burning tree, laughing loudly as she went.  The panthers looked on, not sure what to make of her.

     “Panthers you are not so bad.  You look to me, a little sad.”  she sang, with all her might, as she continued to dance the most silly of all dances.  “It seems to me you’ve been a sittin, and now you need to dance like kittens.”

     With that, the panthers stood up on their hind feet and began to follow her around the burning tree, doing the most silly dancing you have ever seen a large feline do.  As they danced, they began to laugh.  As they laughed, they got smaller.  As they got smaller, they got cuter, until the mighty, fierce panthers turned into kittens.

     “Panthers, now you look so nice, maybe we could dance with mice.”  she sang, and as the words left her lips, several field mice jumped into the chorus line and began to dance along.

     She sang, “As we dance this little jig, we need some help from the wild pigs.”

     Once again, out from the dark woods came a herd of wild pigs.  Black and pink, with sharp tusks and curly tails.  They ran in just like the others and stood on their hind feet also, but they danced the silliest dance of all.  Laughing, snorting, and farting all at the same time.

     “Don’t just stand around and stare.  What we need are dancing bears.”  she sang, in such a silly voice, that the pigs had tears running down their faces from laughing so hard.

     Out from the woods came five big fat brown bears.  They stood on their hind feet and began dancing.  One of them took Polly’s hand, one took Thea’s, and one took Una’s, and lead them on to the dance floor.  Not wanting to be left alone, Donkeyhotie joined in shaking his backside and swishing his tail to the song.

     They danced for hours as the night grew dark and the stars came out.  The burning tree continued to burn.  Finally the dancers were spent.  

     “I shall fix us some supper.”  said Polly.  “I hope you are all hungry.  Now I have a few things to cook.  If you would all bring me what you have, I’ll make my magnificent stew.”

     All the animals went scurrying about gathering what they liked to eat.  Polly put a large pot on the fire.  To it she added potatoes, onions, turnips, carrots, celery, acorns, berries, roots, and tall grass, that Donkeyhotie had gotten.  When it was finished she ladled each of them a bowl full and added some catnip to the kittens’ bowls.  They all ate until they could eat no more and lay down to sleep.      

     Polly looked around, as the girls and all the creatures lay sleeping.  She looked up at the bright stars in the dark sky and said a prayer, that Mr.Popper and his troop were resting well tonight and that they would all see each other soon.  Then she leaned over and blew out the burning tree, which looked exactly as if it had never caught fire.  She laid down in her hammock and fell fast asleep.

 

Chapter Five

     I went to Florida this past weekend to see my brother and sister.  Consequently I haven't done any work on the guitar, but here is chapter five of the story, along with Martha's illustration.

Chapter Five

Crossing the Great Tuffaluktee

     It had been five days, and the travelers were tired and dirty. They lost a day, by making the mistake of letting Mr. Struggles read the map.  They wandered around in circles, until they finally found the trail again.  They had covered many miles and were hopeful to soon see the Valley of the Lukers. 

     Thea asked, “How much further Mr. Popper?”

     Now, Mr. Popper was the worst person to ask.  He had absolutely no sense of distance.  He would always think that they were almost there, even if they had ten miles left to go. So he would always respond, “I think we’re almost there.  Probably just around the next bend.”

     Polly shook her head in unbelief, but the little girls didn’t know better.  “Maybe this time he’ll be right.”  thought Polly.

        Just then they emerged from the trees to see the most glorious valley.  It was wide and open, and full of blueberry bushes,fruit trees and tall grass.  There were herons and geese, and turkeys and deer in the meadows.  There were wild flowers of all kinds and colors, that made the valley look as if it had been freshly painted by some brobdingnagian artist.  The sun was shining and they all felt renewed and refreshed just by seeing this much of their destination.  The walk had been worth it, just to behold such a lovely place.

     “This must be the valley.”  Polly shouted.  “I had no idea it would be this beautiful.”

    “How much further to the river?” asked Donkeyhotie.

     “I should say, it’s probably just around the next bend.”  said Mr. Popper confidentially.

     Polly shook her head.

    “Look!  I can see the river!”  shouted Keona.  Then she ran around in circles, made crazy faces, and did cartwheels until she was out of breath.  Her sisters also joined in the fun and Bon Bon chased her tail until she was dizzy.

     Sure enough.  Right before them was the great Tuffaluktee river.  It was maybe a mile or more across.  No one knew for sure how far it stretched, but it was beautiful.  Blue like sapphire with hints of turquoise, and deep.  Some said it had no bottom.  It was infinite like space.  In that infinite space lived the otters, the trout people (brown,rainbow, and speckled), the frog women and turtle men, and, of course the fearsome knotty heads and hellbenders.  

     “Can anyone see the barge that we need to cross the river on?”  Mr. Struggles asked.

     “Yes, I see it.  It’s there, just past that last grove of orange trees.”  Polly answered.

     On their way to the barge, they filled their knapsacks and saddle bags with blueberries and apples, oranges and figs, and even blackberries and pomegranates.

Donkeyhotie ate several apples from right off the tree.  He especially liked Pink Lady, Macintosh and Winesap varieties.  And the girls ate blueberries and blackberries until their hands and faces were stained purple.  Una had to show everyone her tongue, which looked as if she had dipped it in ink.  Then they all laid down in the tall grass and rested, with the afternoon sun warming their tired bodies and lifting their spirits.

     “I have to admit that I’m a little apprehensive about crossing the river after hearing what Veaster said about the Knotty heads and Hellbenders.”  said Mr. Struggles.  “Does anyone know much about them?”

     “I know a little.  Although, I have never seen a Hellbender, but I have come upon some Knotty Heads in Caney Fork Creek years ago.”  Mr. Popper added.  “The Knotty Heads are fish.  When they are young, they have small bumps, or warts on their pale green heads.  As they grow the knots get bigger and turn dark green and red.  They make a sucking noise when they speak, that’s hard to listen to.  It sounds almost as if someone were trying, in vain, to draw their last breath, while choking up something stuck in their throat.  The Hellbenders, or Waterdogs, are huge salamanders.  They are roughly the size of large dogs.  They are slow to move on land, but swift in the water.  They have sharp claws on the ends of their webbed feet and hands, and very sharp teeth that can eat fish, bones and all.  They are beautiful colors.  Iridescent blue, pumpkin orange, blood red, deep purple, canary yellow, pure white, neon green, and every combination in between. 

     The Dilleyards used to fish the smaller creeks.  Not with a pole and line, but with burlap sacks.  They would go down stream and dam up the creek, then several Dillieyards would walk in the water, up stream, and drive all the fish toward the damed up area.  They would be waiting with the sacks and simply scoop up all the fish they could carry.  Then they would keep the ones they wanted to eat, but he Knotty Heads were too bony, so they would throw them on the dry land, where they would die from exposure.  And the Hellbenders were so fierce, that they were afraid to get near them, so they would tie them up in the bags and throw them back in the water.  It would take some time for the Hellbenders to chew through the bag and escape.  That is why they don’t like humans and are so protective of the river.  They are afraid that one day the Dillieyards might find a way to dam up even the infinitely deep Tuffaluktee.”  

     “That is so cruel.”  Keona said, with compassion in her voice.  “Maybe we can show them that not all humans are like that.”

     “Hopefully we won’t see any, and we can simply cross the river without incident.” interjected Polly.

     After they had rested and eaten their fill, the journeyers headed down to the river bank.  They came upon the dock where the barge was tied.  It was a small barge.  More like a raft than a barge.  It was obvious to them all, that they could not all cross at the same time.  The barge had a cable and pulley system attached to it that ran all the way across the river to a large oak tree on the other side. It ran through a pipe that was securely  fastened to the side of the barge.  When the rope was pulled on, it would travel through the pulley system, and one could pull the barge across the river without too much difficulty.

      “I’m afraid we can’t all fit on the barge together.”  said Mr. Popper.  “I will stay behind with Bon Bon and Mr. Struggles.  Polly can take the girls across with Donkeyhotie first, and then send the barge back for us.”  he said, feeling better about Mr. Struggles not riding across with the girls.

     Polly lead the girls onto the barge with Donkeyhotie.  “No sign of Knotty Heads, or Hellbenders yet.”  said Polly with relief.

     “If we’re lucky, we’ll all make it across before they know we’re here.”  Mr. Popper added, with concern.  “We shall see you on the other side.”

     With that, Polly began to pull on the rope.  It was a fairly windless day, and so the water was calm and the barge traveled easily across the great Tuffaluktee.  After, maybe an hour, Polly and the girls reached the bank on the other side.  There was a small field, and then the woods.  These woods were no ordinary woods.  They were thick and dark and there was something foreboding about them.  The trees were huge and it appeared that almost all sunlight was kept out by their branches.

     Polly helped the girls and Donkeyhotie off the barge and then waved her arms to Mr. Popper to signal that he could pull the barge back.  Mr. Popper could barely see them, but could make out the signal, and so, began to pull the barge back across.  He pulled for an hour, but would not let Mr. Struggles help, for fear something bad might happen.

     With the barge back on their side Mr. Popper, Mr. Struggles, and Bon Bon boarded the barge.

     “Mr. Struggles, I should much appreciate it, if you would sit with your hands in your pockets, and no matter what, please don’t try to help.”  Mr. Popper pleaded.

     With that, he began to pull on the cable and the barge began to make it’s way across the river.

     They had gotten about half way across the river and could see the girls playing in the field and Polly waiting for them, when the water started to ripple and bubble around them, as if boiling.  Bon Bon began to bark and run from one side of the barge to the other.

     “What is it!”  exclaimed Mr. Struggles.

     “I Believe the Knotty Heads have found us!”  yelled Mr. Popper.  “Try to stay calm.  They cannot hurt us as long as we stay out of the water.  I will continue to pull us across  and we will try our best to ignore them.”  

     Mr. Popper’s arms were getting tired from so much pulling, but he knew better than to ask Mr. Struggles for help.  The boiling of the water continued and the sucking throaty sound of the Knotty Heads started.  It was a horrific sound when made by many schools of them.  This further added to there anxiousness to get to the other side.

     Just then they felt something hit the side of the barge.  Port side, Mr. Popper saw a large, rusty orange colored, webbed hand, grab the deck of the barge.

     “The Hellbenders have found us!”  shouted Mr. Popper. 

      He was on his feet now and kicked the Hellbender off the side of the barge.  Starboard side another Hellbender had climbed on board.  It was a vibrant shade of pink with black claws and yellow eyes.  Mr. Popper kicked him off also as Bon Bon barked ferociously.  There were more coming from every direction.  Aqua blue ones, and bright white ones, and then the biggest one Mr. Popper had ever heard of.  It was blood red with coal black eyes and steel gray teeth.  He was coming straight for Mr. Popper.  

     Mr. Struggles, who had been sitting, with his hands in his pockets, like he was told, felt for his knife.  

     “I must try to do something.”  he thought to himself.  With that he jumped to his feet and lunged at the giant beast with his pocket knife, yelling  “I’ll save you, Mr. Popper!”

     As he did so, Mr. Struggles tripped and fell with his pocket knife held out straight in his hand.  He came down right on the cable that led to the oak tree on the other side, and severed it in two.  Mr. Popper kicked the large Hellbender off the barge and the rest of the salamanders slipped back into the river.

     On the shore, Polly and the girls had been watching in horror, and now watched as the barge began to sail down stream.  they ran along the shore until the barge, with Mr. Popper, Mr. Struggles, and Bon Bon, faded out of sight.

     “What shall we do?”  shouted Mr. Struggles.

     “We must stay out of the water and hope that we will come to a bend in the river that will put us ashore on the same side of the river as Polly and the girls.”  Mr. Popper said, trying to calm the situation.

      He began to notice a rumbling sound that seemed to be growing as they headed down stream.  

     “Do you hear that rumbling, Mr. Struggles?”  asked Mr. Popper.

     “Yes, now that you mention it.”  replied Mr. Struggles

     As the sound went from a dull roar, to an almost deafening one, Bon Bon began to bark.  The hair on her back stood straight up and her tail began to wag from right to left.  Mr. Popper knew this mean’t immanent danger.  He looked down stream, maybe one hundred yards and saw the most massive waterfall he had ever seen.  It was a drop of five hundred feet or more.

    “Bon Bon, Mr. Struggles.  There is a waterfall right in front of us.  We will surely be killed if we stay on this barge.  We must jump into the water and try to swim for shore!”  he yelled, over the pounding of the waterfall.

     “But what about the Knotty Heads and Hellbenders!”  shouted Mr. Struggles.

     “We shall have to take our chances!”  yelled Mr. Popper.

      And with that he pushed Mr. Struggles into the water and jumped in behind him.  Bon Bon dove in and began dog paddling for the shore.  They swam with all their might, but the pull of the waterfall was too much.  The more they swam, the less they seemed to move toward the shore.  They were worn out and the current was beating them.  Mr. Popper was so tired from pulling the cable, and fighting the Hellbenders, and now fighting the drag of the waterfall.  He felt himself begin to blackout.  He looked to see where Mr. Struggles and Bon Bon were and spotted them off to his left.  He felt a tug on his shoulder and the last thing he saw, were two coal black eyes behind Mr. Struggles and Bon Bon, and then a webbed hand grabbed them both from behind.

Back Work Board

     I ended up not having the time off I thought I was going to, so I didn't finish the back work board, but I did make some progress.  Here is a picture of the work board.  It has to be dished out to a 15 foot radius.  I've started the carving, but still have a few more hours to go.   Also, here is a picture of my new vise and shop stand, holding my guitar.  It is a truly amazing tool.

     Here is something from Rumi I read this morning.  So true.

You risk your life to feed desires,
yet you give your soul only short grazing spans,
and those grudgingly.

You borrow ten and repay fourteen.
Most of your decisions can be traced back
to cuisine and sex.

The fuel basket goes from one stokehole
to the next.  Six friends hoist
your handsomeness and carry it
to the cemetery.

Food changes going from the table to the latrine.
You live between deaths,
thinking this is right enough.

Close these eyes to open the other.
Let the center brighten your sight.

     And here is chapter four, for those following the story.

Chapter Four

The Adventure Begins.

     After what could only be described as a sleepless night,  Polly and Mr. Popper met up with the rest of the team.  The girls had not slept well, because they were so excited about their eminent adventure.  Mr. Struggles had gone to bed and gotten tangled in his hammock, and so, slept face down all night and had to have someone free him in the morning.  Bon Bon snored all night, as she usually does, and felt quite refreshed.

     The journeyers met the elders and tribal representatives at the edge of the tribal grounds.  

     “Here are your provisions.  We have packed food for a month.  Not the best food, but it should keep you well nourished.  We have hammocks for all of you, a medical kit, with everything you should need, and a few special surprises, we hope will come in handy.  This is your pack burro, ‘Donkeyhotie’.  I think you will find him, a very able beast.”  the representative said with a pleasant smile.

     “I like oats and straw, apples and figs.  I like to have my nose scratched, and don’t walk right behind me, because I like to poop when I walk.”  Donkeyhotie said, matter of factly.

     Veaster nodded his approval to Donkeyhotie and then began to address the travelers  with the last of their instructions.  “I can’t tell you how much this means to the tribe, that you are all willing to take on such an adventure.  Here is a map.”  he said, as he handed it to Polly. “I have mapped a course to the Dillieyards village.  You will travel deep into the mountains, and when you come to the Valley of the Lukers you will have to cross the great Tuffaluktee river.  There is only one place that we know of to cross.  Look for a wooden barge with a pulley and rope system attached to it.  You should be able to cross there safely.”  he added, trying to comfort their fears.  “Do not set foot in the water, for the Knotty Heads and the Waterdogs (also known as Hellbenders), do not like outsiders.  They can be very territorial and unpredictable.”  he warned.  “After you cross the great Tuffaluktee, you will need to head straight north to the Dillieyards settlement.  The forest is thick with rhododendrons and mountain laurel. It will be difficult to tell direction, so I am giving you a compass, which should help to get you there.” he said, as he handed it to Keona.  

     With a look of grave seriousness, he lowered his voice and said, “When you get to the Dillieyard village, you must ask for their chief. He is called Big Dee.  We know little of him, except that when he breathes, smoke issues from his mouth.  He is painfully slow to act and he loves to eat.  We have given you several boxes of Little Debbie cakes to offer him as a token of your good will.”  he said pointing to the saddle bags on Donkeyhotie.  “As you may have heard, there is a legend about the Dillieyards being Luck Suckers.  We do not have any proof of this, but take the necessary precautions.”  he warned, with a tone that made them all shiver with dread.

     “Monsieur Veaster.  I am not familiar with this legend.  Would you please share it with us, so we may be better equipped when we meet them?”  Keona asked innocently.

      “I shall tell you what I have heard, but bear in mind, that this is a story and nothing more.” he cautioned. “It was many years ago, before I was an elder, and before many of you were born.  There was a man from our tribe who left to seek employment with the Dillieyards.  His name was T Roice Settlehymer.  He met Big Dee and worked for him for seventeen years.  When he returned he was near death.  The shamans nursed him back to health.  He told incredible stories, of how the Dilleyards would look deep into your eyes as they conversed with you.  As they did so, the luck that each person had, would be sucked out and stolen by the Dilleyards.  It got so bad, that everything T Roice Settlehymer would do turned into folly and ruin, and at the same time everything the Dilleyards did turned to fortune and riches.  T Roice didn’t understand what was happening, until one day he happened upon a long time employee of Big Dee.  His name was Pabbie More.  T Roice new Pabbie from their years together in school when they were young.  Pabbie had been the smartest student, with the most potential.  It was thought that he would probably be an elder one day.  As the story goes,  he greeted Pabbie who did not remember T Roice at all.  Pabbie said he was in a hurry, for he had to be a Pollar bear in a cousin's funeral.  He mean’t, a pall- bearer.  After that he would have to go to Abraham Lincolnton’s house, to get a bullnoser to take to Nose Hair’s house, so they could kill the black ricoosters, that lived in the stacoozies.  What he mean’t was, he would have to go to Abraham Lincoln’s house to get a bulldozer to take to Rose Hair’s house, so they could kill the brown recluses, that lived in the jacuzzis.  Then Pabbie yawned and fell asleep standing up.  T Roice Settlehymer new instantly, that this was not the same man that had gone to work for Big Dee several years before.  It was as if his luck had been sucked away, and with it, his brains.  T Roice fled the land of the Dillieyards, with nothing but his life, never to return.”  Veaster concluded.

     “As I cautioned you before, this is only a story, which we have no proof of, but if I were you, I should try not to look directly into their eyes.” he emphasized once more.  “Now if you follow the map and keep a steady pace, you should arrive at the Tuffaluktee in four days.  If there are no further questions, we will bid you good day and Godspeed.”

     “We look forward to seeing you soon, with our mission behind us and the Music Water returned safely to it’s resting place.  When we meet again, I shall play us a beautiful summer’s evening, with the noise of crickers and peepers, and a huge bon fire with marshmallows and chocolate.”  Mr. Popper smiled and said enthusiastically.

     With that they turned, and putting one foot in front of the other, began their adventure.  Mr.Popper led the way, with Donkeyhotie behind, followed by Keona, Thea, Una, Mr. Struggles, and Polly. With Bon Bon bringing up the rear, wagging her tail from left to right, which mean’t she was, so happy, or she wanted something to eat.

     

     

Acrylic Template

  After many attempts, I finished the template for the headstock.  I didn't have any quarter inch plywood left, so I made it out of some scrap acrylic.  I took a picture of it on top of the book I'm using as a guide to building this guitar.  I have the next two days off and hope to finish the back work board.  Then we can order the wood and begin building.

   Instead of a quote, I decided to include a video. Cheryl Wheeler is a great song writer and quite a good storyteller.   This song is the way I feel all the time about my life with Donna.  

       And finally, here is chapter three, for those of you who are still reading.

Chapter Three

The Meeting

    The tribal meeting room was all but full when Polly and Mr. Popper got there.  The elders were there and the magicians.  The mystics and shamans, and the musicians.  The clowns and the comedians, and of course Bon Bon.  Bon Bon was a rather large English labrador.  She was completely black except for a small patch of gray on her muzzle and she always wore a red collar.  When I say she was black, I don’t mean the conventional black, but a black like space.  Something so dark that only the light makes it possible to see.  The same way the sky can only be seen at night, because the stars are there.

     Bon Bon was well known and respected within the tribe, for her wisdom and special powers.  She did not have the gift of speech, but she would communicate through her expressions.  When she made her eyes look very small and round, she was sad, or wanted something to eat.  When she made her eyes large and dark brown, she was in excitable agreement, or she wanted something to eat.  When she barked she was angry, protective, wanting something to eat, or looking for squirrels.  When she made her top knot head, she was not sure, uncommitted, or wanting something to eat.   And when she made the triangle face, she was in complete knowledge and understanding of the situation, and had an answer to the problem, or she wanted something to eat.

     Polly and Mr. Popper took a seat and waited for the proceedings to begin.  There was much talk and much anticipation in the air.

     A hush fell on those present as the door opened and the three tribal heads interred the room. They were cats. Not huge lions, or panthers, but small house cats. Otis, was a large tabby Tom cat, with a tiny, squeaky voice ; Fern, his twin sister,  was small and black, with white feet that would blossom into flowers as she opened and closed them, padding the air; and Veaster.  He was the old man of the tribe.  Not regal like a king, or pampered like a head of state, but worn and weary.  Like someone who has lived his life for others.  He was gray, with the most hypnotizing yellow, snake eyes you have ever seen.  He had two fangs that protruded from his upper lip and his back had a patch of hairlessness, where he had pulled his hair out with his teeth, out of anxiety.  His ears were shredded from fights he had endured, protecting the tribe.

     Veaster spoke first, “It has been reported that the sacred Music Water, that has been kept safe by the council in the chambers at White Side Mountain, has been stolen.”

     With that the crowd went wild.  People began to shout their questions and concerns.  The magicians began to blow fire from their mouths and the shamans began shapeshifting into various mythic beasts.  

     “So that’s why my dreameradoo won’t play.  Polly, this means the music is gone!”  Mr. Popper exclaimed with the shock of someone who had lost the very keys to life as he knew it.

    “But how can that be?  How could someone ever have done such a thing?”  Polly replied with great unbelief.

    Then from the front came a small high pitched squeak.  At first no one paid it much attention, but then, like a persistent  alarm clock in the morning, they began to quiet down little by little until all that could be heard was the tiny voice.  It was Otis.  He was squeaking with all his might trying to calm down the crowd.

     Now that he had their attention he began his speech, “Savages, please listen! This is very important.  It appears that the Tigers have stolen the Music Water.  We have eye witnesses that saw a tiger fleeing the chambers with the sacred water vase.”

     Again, there was a small uproar at the mention of the Tigers, but Fern put a quick stop to it by opening her paws and making them into flowers, which always fascinated everyone.

     “Please listen to what we have to share and keep your comments until we open up for discussion.”  She said with an heir of authority.  “Now Veaster would like to address you on the details and our plan to return the Music Water to the Council at White Side Mountain.”

     Veaster began to share what they knew of how the Tigers had broken into the Chambers and stolen the Music Water.

     To understand how important the Music Water is you must know a bit of it’s history.  The Legend says, that over a thousand years ago, one of the fathers of the seven tribes , that existed then, known as Lazerham, was exploring a new mountainside in the central region of what is now called Middlend.  He came upon a hole in the earth that was twice the size of a man.  He went into the cavern and discovered that it was well lit by the morning sun shining down the hole.  As he progressed, he found a clear pool of water that must have been several hundred feet deep.  He reached down to touch the water and it sang a song.  Now what was so surprising to Lazerham were two things.  One was that no one had ever heard music before.  There were no bird songs. No wind whistling  in the pines.  No chimes.  No drums.  No instruments of any kind. No one had ever sang or even whistled.   As the legend tells, there had never been a sound that could be called a musical note, up until that moment.  So, you can imagine Lazerham”s surprise. But an even bigger surprise was the second thing.  The song that was being sung was a song about Lazerham.  It was a song specially crafted for him. 

    Lazerham.  You are a good man.

I have searched for you as the shepherds do,

for the lamb that has lost it’s way.

Lazerham.  There is a plan

From the start we’ve been apart

But now let the music stay.

    As the legend says, Lazerham went back to his village and told the elders of the tribe.  They went before the elders of the seven tribes and it was decided that they would take a vase and fill it with the Music Water.  Then they put the vase in the chambers, so that no one, but the Council would have access to it.  They then filled in the hole in the earth, so that no one would ever find the water source and be able to use it for themselves.  For, they feared that if it fell into the wrong hands the Music might make people do who knows what.  They then decided that they would give a drop of Water to each tribe once a year.  If that sacred drop was mixed with a lake of water it would give the tribe music for a full year.  The music was strictly monitored by the elders of each tribe according to what they thought was fitting.  At first the water sang wondrous things.  It gave direction to people's lives.  It brought healing to those that would swim in it.  It brought comfort and great joy to all the tribes.  But as the years went on that wonder became less and less.  Some tribes only cared about the Music Water for entertainment.  Some didn’t much care for it at all.  The Water began to sing more shallow songs.  As the tribes grew, they fragmented.  At first just a few would split and start their own tribe, but then more and more.  The more tribes there were, the more the Water became diluted.  The elders would only give out half drops, and then quarter drops.  Each tribe developed their own genre of music that they thought was best.  Some tribes began to ban any type of song other than what the elders dictated.  Some tribal members were beaten, tortured, and even killed for singing different songs.

     The musicians of the Savage tribe were given freedom of song, but the Water became so diluted that it was hard to hear the deep music that their hearts yearned for.  

     “The plan to capture the Water Music from the Tigers and return it to the Chambers, will be a dangerous one.”  Veaster cautioned.  “The Tigers are fierce and very sly.  They have been hunted for years and will not think twice to attack any man or woman.  And they know the mountains.  It will be easy for them to hide and they will be hard to track.”  he warned.  “For this reason we, as your elders, have decided that we must solicit the help of the Dillieyards.”

     Once again the crowd erupted in a frantic commotion.  The comedians started yelling bad one liners, and the clowns ran around squirting seltzer water down people’s pants and throwing pies.

     “But they are the luck suckers!”  someone shouted from the back.

     “Quiet down, please!”  Veaster shouted.  “They may very well be luck suckers, but we don’t know that for sure.  We need their tracking skills.  You all know that they are extraordinary hunters, and have been tracking and hunting the Tigers for centuries.  Without their assistance we may never discover the Tigers’ den.  While I agree, that this could be very dangerous, we still think it is our only option.”  he said with all the authority he could muster.  “Now we have put together a team that we think would best be suited for this task.  I will not force anyone who does not wish to go, but I would hope that you all would rise to the occasion and do the right thing for the betterment, not just of the tribe, but of the whole world, for with out the Music Water, how will we survive?”  he asked with a heavy heart.  “As I call your name please come forward.  Mr. Popper.”

     Mr. Popper stood, but Polly held his hand tightly and would not let him go.

     “It’s alright Polly.”  Veaster reassured.  “You will be going with him.”

     Polly didn’t know whether to feel better about this news, or not.  She didn’t want either of them to have to leave, but she wanted to do what she could and if the elders thought she was up to the job, then who was she to think differently.

     “We have chosen Mr. Popper, because of his musical abilities.  We feel that when the vase is in his hands he will treat it with the utmost care.  Making sure that it won’t break, or spill and that it will make it to it’s final home without incident.”  he explained.  “As for Polly, we know that she would worry too much if she were not along with Mr. Popper.  Plus her abilities may also become very valuable.”  he knowingly said, with a smile.  The next member of the team, we deliberated about for quite some time.  Ultimately we found that we could not do without him.  That is Mr. Struggles.”

     The crowd went crazy this time with shouts of, “Are you out of your minds!”  and “This will be a “disaster!”  and “You of all people should know what happens when he’s around!”

 Mr. Struggles looked as shocked as everyone else.  He was not used to being asked to do anything.  Mr. Struggles had a reputation with the tribe that was not at all positive.  It seemed that wherever he went things got harder.  It was impossible to understand, but it was true.  If he helped you wash your windows, one would break.  If he helped you paint your house someone would fall off a ladder and hurt them self.  If you asked him to go for a walk with you, you would twist your ankle and have to hobble home.  He was nice enough, but no one wanted his help.   

     “Now, now!” shouted Veaster.  “We have given this much thought and have consulted the shamans and they verified our decision.  If Mr. Struggles chooses to go, it will be his decision and no one else's.”

    There was still quite a bit of murmuring, but the crowd seemed to accept this decision.

     “We feel strongly that, because of her strong sense of smell and her powers, that Bon Bon should also go.”  he said with much enthusiasm.

    The crowd nodded their consent and Bon Bon waged her tail, which showed her approval, or she wanted something to eat.

     “And finally, for the rest of the team.  This was a very hard decision, because of their young ages, but we have chosen the girls.”

     There was a gasp that came up from the crowd and Polly went white. 

     “How can they expect them to do something so dangerous at such young ages?”  Polly whispered to Mr. Popper.

    “I’m sure I don’t know, but if the elders think that the girls can help, then I’m sure it will be fine.  Plus, you know the strange and powerful abilities each one has.”  Mr. Popper said confidently.

     The girls had made their way down front.  They looked so small in front of the huge crowd.  The oldest was Keona.  She was six.  She was what some people would refer to as a firecracker.  She was loud and full of energy.  She loved to yell and sing and dance and run around.  And most of all she loved to be silly and laugh.  This was her power and it would serve them all well on their adventure.  The middle child was Thea.  She was four.  She also loved to laugh and play and do the things her sisters did, but she could also be serious.  A person could say the wrong thing to her and she would start to frown.  Then she would become very serious.  This was her power and it would serve them all well on their adventure.  And finally the youngest.  Una.  She had gone over to Veaster and picked him up and was rubbing her face on his.  He tried to get away, to no avail, and so gave up and began to purr.  She had just turned two.  She was also loud and loved to play and have fun, but if something happened to her she would cry.  This was no ordinary crying.  This was of a different nature.  This was her power and it would serve them all well on their adventure.

     “Now that you have all come forward, we should like to know if you all accept this great task that will benefit all of humanity?”  Veaster asked with anticipation.  “If you accept you will all leave tomorrow.  Your provisions have been arranged and your course has been mapped.  We know that this is much to ask of all of you, and there will be much danger and hardship, but you will be honored for your service for generations to come.  What say you?”

     They all of one voice said, “Yes we will go.”  except for Bon Bon who made her eyes large and dark brown, which mean’t  she was in total agreement, or she wanted something to eat. 

Headstock Template

     I spent several hours today making a headstock template, only to have messed it up in the last minute.  I've included a picture of it, although I'll be making another one this week.  It is white, only because the quarter inch plywood I made it with had laminate on it.  The next one I should be able to make in under an hour, now that I know what I'm doing and I won't have to figure out how big to enlarge the drawing in Bodanovich's book.  For anyone else using this book, you need to increase it 222%.
     After I finish this template I'll only have to make the cradle to hold the back, and then I can start on the actual guitar.  I'll begin by making the neck, which has the most carving and the most room for personal interpretation.

   

     Here is the second chapter of the story I've been writing.  This is a short chapter with no illustrations, but next week's, chapter three, has several.

Chapter Two

The Savages

     As a point of reference to our story I will digress for a moment and explain a bit about the tribe that Polly and Mr. Popper are a part of.  They refer to themselves as,” the  Savages”.  The proper definition of a savage is a member of a people regarded as primitive and uncivilized.  Sometimes known as wild men.  The Savages are most definitely wild men and women, but not like you would think.  They love parties of all kinds.  They can be loud and not always careful of what they say.  They love to eat and they love to cook.  They love to play and they most dearly love to have fun.  They stay dirty, because they love to get down on the ground, old and young alike, and play together.  It is not uncommon to see the old men dressed up like giant rabbits eating clover while the youngsters try to catch them with butterfly nets.  The young father’s like to play a game called, “stinkbug”, where they run around backwards on their hands and knees, while trying to pin their children to the wall with their bottoms.  This makes for loud, raucous fun.  The mother’s like to make places for their children to hide, out of sticks and rocks and things lying about.  We would call these things forts, but they call them farts.  You can imagine the looks they get from those outside the tribe when someone’s daughter yells, “Make a fart mommy.”  

      They love to play in the water.  It could be sailing boats down a muddy bank in the pouring rain, or the children playing naked in the drainage ditch.  But their favorite underwater game is called, “The Bucktooth Monster”, pronounced Bucktoof.  They go to the nearby lake, in the summer, and one person will pull his lip up above his teeth and become the Bucktooth Monster.  He will then chase the others around, under the water, until he catches someone and they, in turn, become the bucktooth monster. After a long hard day of playing the Bucktooth Monster, they build a large bonfire on the bank of the lake.  The children are highly skilled in making fires and everyone loves to play with the fire.  They sing and dance around the fire and laugh until they wet themselves.  They almost always smell of wood smoke and urine.

        As to their being primitive, they are, of their own making, and not out of ignorance.

They live in a land that most people would not live.  It is extremely cold in the winter with lots of snow.  It is, likewise, extremely hot in the summer.  In the spring and the fall it rains almost everyday.  They used to live in a beautiful valley with wildflowers and tall pine trees and flowing streams, but one of the other tribes had to leave their land, because it was too small for them to farm anymore.  The Savages decided to give them their land and they moved into the mountains.

     They built very small houses out of the wood from the forest.  They like to be close, so they don’t require much space.  They sleep in hammocks and in the summer almost everyone sleeps outside.  They love the earth.  They love to feel it between their toes.  They love to lie on it during the day and look for signs in the clouds.  They love to lie on it at night and watch the shooting stars.

     When they’re together they love to talk of the deep things.  Things that come from their hearts.  They tell old stories of great mysteries and tales that have been shaken from the very robes of God.  They speak of their dreams and they let their dreams speak to them.  Above all, they sing.  They sing a song that comes from their hearts, as one.  It is always different, but they always know the words and the tune.  In their singing together they come close to the Music Water.  In that space, It speaks to them, It comforts them.  It holds them, young and old, as a parent holds an infant.

     Maybe more than anything else, the thing that separates the Savages from the other tribes around them, is the simple fact that in all their relationships, they love kindness.  They love to take people into their homes that need a place to stay.  They love to have people over to dinner and to play board games.  They love to make presents and give gifts.  And most of all they love to forgive.  

     When they speak, they love truth.  They speak words that are true and honest.  Words that bring peace and restoration.  Words that heal.

     They are slow to action.  They would rather be careful than do the wrong thing.  But, once the decision is made they love to act!