Dear Diary,
Today’s entry is brought to you by the letter ‘V’. My grandpa played the violin and I thought he was magic. It is one of my fondest memories of my grandpa, he died when I was 8 and I don’t have many clear memories. I don’t remember him playing around Christmas when you think someone would be more likely to play. He might have played then but I don’t remember it. What I remember is pitching a tent on the lawn in the back yard; grandpa would pull the barbecue onto the lawn by the tent and we would roast marshmallows and he would play the violin/fiddle and sing. They were rarely songs I new, although he would sometimes play songs that we knew like ‘She’ll be coming round the mountain” but the last song he would play was “Twinkle, twinkle little star” then he would let us look through his telescope until we were falling asleep as we stood there waiting for our turn. Then he would get us settled into our sleeping bags before he went into the house. Hearing a violin, or fiddle always makes me think of my grandpa and our camp-outs. I also would love to learn to play the violin, well truth be told I would prefer to play the fiddle; I know same instrument different style.
Until next time,
Me
