The old mandolin

Recently, I referred to my grandfather's mandolin, which he played with friends in his home town of Böblingen, Germany. He eventually gave the thing to my mother, who also plays the instrument somewhat.

Today, I asked her about it. I thought she'd have to dig it out of storage, but in fact it was standing in a corner in her bedroom. It looks pretty good, though there is some buckling on its face around the sound hole/pick guard.

The instrument was manufactured by Meinel and Herold, a very old musical instrument maker. The M&H plant was closed in 1973 by the East German government. I guess they weren't into music.

Today, my dad explained that, for a time, Opa played the violin, too, but he was forced to abandon the instrument because the sound it made caused my dad to vomit.

I assume this difficulty arose when dad was a baby.

But I didn't ask.

TigerAnn enjoys the good weather. She endlessly lobbies to be let outside.

Here she is giving me the stink eye earlier today.

She lives for hunting mice and lizards.

What're you gonna do? A cat's gotta do what a cat's gotta do.

She catches lots of 'em. Usually, she gives me the thing while it is still alive. At such times, she seems to think that she and I are hunting together. I play along, though my intent is to save the poor thing. I am usually successful.

I feel it is important never to betray one's cat.

I try to disguise the fact that I have rescued the mouse or lizard.

To be a friend to TigerAnn, it is important to be good at sleight of hand.

I think that I have succeeded in disguising my rescues, but in her own way she is suspicious. "Where," she seems to ask, "is my mouse? YOU had it last."

I immediately change the subject.
Women are complicated.