My (borrowed) Ukulele

Saturday morning and I’m headed to Milford. Along the way, I take in the small things that make our place special. Like the sheep farmer turned limousine owner and chauffeur who, wearing his Hawaiian shirt, dressed for his wine tour schedule and all, is in his laneway wearing sensible footwear—rubber boots—while giving the stretch-limo a wash with the hose. Sorta like washing three cars in one, must feel like.

Then I stop off for breakfast where, upon entering, the door on the right is Bailey’s Restaurant and the door on the left is an auto sales place. So, instead of a three-car wash, here you have a two-for-one choice.

Breakfast is done: dark rye toast, scrambled eggs with sausage and I’m already rolling into Cherry Valley where, lo’n behold, Kate’s Knitting has a sign out front, “Rhubarb for Sale.” I am in her driveway in a flash, already showing symptoms of rhubarb deprivation as a result of crop failure down in the Slab Creek patch.

Speaking of rhubarb, I mentioned way back when about my guilty feelings over not having found and re-installed the front panel of the bluebird house that winter winds had stolen away. The panel, that is. And that before I could locate and re-install the thing, the robin romance spring thing had crashed the space and the couple had begun nest building, creating more feelings of guilt especially when biker-bird starlings (can you imagine someone thinking it a brilliant scheme to import the first batch of the birds from England for an event in New York’s Central park in the 1800s? I mean what kind of a party was it?) began their site reconnaissance, the egg-eating buffoons that they are. Especially if said eating were to take place in my face, the bird house being only two feet from my morning window. But, as with rhubarb, all of life’s challenges find their solution, right?

Yes, the nesting thing: before my very eyes, at intervals through the fog of a jet-stream of days, a nest was completed, eggs appeared and were incubated. Little heads popped above the surface one morning with feverish too-ing and fro-ing by the romantic robin feeding duo right up to this one morning when, as my neighbour likes to put it: there they were, gone! Everyone vamoosed. Nature just gets on with it and I doubt if robins understand guilt. Do they know about survival of the species? You betcha!

So back to my Milford journey: with two large bunches of fresh rhubarb strapped into the passenger seat, I pull up to the Milford Library. Inside, it’s tiny, it’s fresh and it’s inviting. There to greet me is music teacher and renowned musician Don Hinde.

Don hands me the baritone uke he had previously talked to me about. It’s something like those tiny ukuleles everyone likes to play, except this one looks like it’s on steroids. And, it doesn’t tune to “my dog has fleas” (remember that?). We try to be quiet in conversation because it is a library, after all. Actually a library with a difference.

You see, Don is a volunteer who is responsible for doing the inventory and checking out all musical instruments that are donated to the music lending library. Yep! Check it out.

The genesis of the idea began in nearby Kingston, where a musical instrument collector decided to scale down (pun intended) his collection. He remembered himself as a kid, wanting to play music and being told there was no money available to make that happen. Which is probably what influenced him to learn to play and buy every musical instrument he encountered throughout his adult life, until the day the size of the collection was about to tip his house off its foundation. What to do, he asked?

Make instruments available through the Public Library system occurred to him. So he donated his collection. The idea took off and today the library is brimming with donated instruments. What to do, they asked? Share the wealth, they thought.

Then, a few County folks got wind of the Kingston instrument flood and thought, why not us? And so began the Prince Edward County Library music lending program.

To borrow an instrument, you just show ID with a library card and a lay down 10 bucks as a security deposit. You get the instrument for a month. It is renewable at no extra charge if no one else is waiting for it. Young or old, anyone can satisfy the urge to play whichever instrument might suit best. And Don will tune them, show you how to care for it, and introduce you to the how-to books available. Shazam, you’re off!

Think about it. Those Jimi Hendrix air-guitar licks you’ve been workin’ on for years can now be the real deal; with a little practice, that is. Or the clarinet or keyboard or drums.

Imagine, you bring the accordion home and after a while maybe realize oompah is not in your future, or maybe domestic pressures—known to sometimes happen— suggest a new choice would be the right thing. You bring the accordion back and change it up for a piccolo or banjo. See, it can be that easy!

So the baritone uke, you say? It happened this way. My son, Luc, takes keyboard lessons from Don. Don began to also introduce the ukulele to Luc as a fine way to discover the world of stringed instruments. I give my soprano uke to Luc (say that fast 10 times) and Don remembers the baritone uke sitting in the Milford library. See where I’m going here?

When I arrive on Saturday morning—the time he is available—Don has written out how to chord my baritone uke to match Luc’s uke and I somehow get the drift he is setting up a father/son travelling minstrel show. Don has also written out the chords and lyrics for the ol’ favourite, You Are My Sunshine. I mean anyone who taught the award-winning band The Good Brothers has an ear for talent, right?

So, new career here we go! Don’t be shy to join Luc and me in a singalong if you find us busking out front of Giant Tiger, the car wash, Empey Tires and other County hot spots.

And oh, by the way. Upon leaving the Milford library, across the street, I spotted a lemonade stand. A polite seven-year-old turned the music volume down on her laptop while she took my order for a double, straight up. Pink lemonade, hints of lime and vanilla with a rich bouquet of fresh lilac on a Saturday morning can be nicely paired with sesame bars and date squares. Oh, and one more BTW. Enjoy the lemonade served up with the self- guided Milford walking tour nicely described on a sign down by the Milford Pond.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy…”come on, sing along why don’t cha?