When I board the ferry to Shetland tomorrow night, I'll have a virtual wolf in my baggage ; undetectable by sniffer dogs, not requiring his own kennel in the animal enclosure, not really needing any care at all, just occasionally taken out, liberated from his digital billet and waved about a bit. Wolves just want to have fu-unn, you know?
Can't quite get my head around the fact that I've managed to dream him up so quickly. That's what happens when your publisher puts a rocket under your rear and invites you to light the blue touchpaper. Phwoarrrrrrr. We have ignition. We have lift-off.* We have...a sneak preview, without wolf, but with a fiddle because that, she said in a circular fashion, is why I'm going to Shetland tomorrow.
For a week of heaven. A week of learning fiddle tunes by 'ear', from a tribe of geniuses at Shetland's annual Fiddle Frenzy. Can't wait. All packed, me and my wolf, and rrrrrraring to go.
*We also have a decidedly sore derriere, but that's another story.
2 comments:
Tell Shetland I said hello. Someday I'll visit her.
Yes. And I will, too! Even though it's a heck of a long way from the cicada-ridden wilds of rural Michigan.
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