Waking Up Pa Ingalls’ Fiddle
Pa Ingalls’ fiddle was sitting on the table of the museum archive room. Still in its case.
The curator, Tana Redman, smiled at me.
“You’ll need to wash your hands before you play it,” she said.
Fiddle
Have Banjo, Will Travel
Late morning. Bobby and I packed the car for the Great American Road Trip. I tossed my fiddle into the backseat. Bobby placed his banjo in the trunk. I ate my third Larabar.