Since getting back from Hawaii I've been spending a number of evenings with my new favorite toy, and it's not a scrapbooking tool.
Long forgotten and thought to have been gifted to someone who would have better use for it (like my hula implements for example), I don't even remember what prompted me to ask my mom about it when they were here last January. I was ecstatic when she indignantly responded that she would never give that ukulele away. I couldn't wait to get the ukulele in my hot little hands.
Neglect and a cool hiding place have kept this beautiful Kamaka ukulele in, surprisingly, mint condition. My parents bought this ukulele for me when I was 10 years old (which means it's pretty stinking old) and wanted to learn how to play. I convinced them to let me take the ukulele class offered at a local library after school. I still remember the frustration of learning how to pick through the entire scale and placing my fingers in the correct fret. I also remember the hum of the strings as I strummed my first chord. It was magical. Simply magical.
I still can't quite get some of the chords, but I am enjoying the process of re-discovering the joys of my ukulele. I wish my 10 year-old self had grasped then the fun of really playing a ukulele. I am finally going to give this ukulele the treatment it deserves: make some great music.