I also somehow managed to drop my own cello bow -- no major damage here, just a broken tip plate. My Red Wing teaching kicked in yesterday. As lovely as it was to see my students, I have to remind myself to keep them up to speed, as the second semester is jam-packed with action. Before the middle of May, they will have to thickness their plates, cut the ff-holes, fit and shape a bass bar, finish the interior of the rib structures, glue the sound box together, carve a scroll, make a fingerboard, shape and set the neck ... it can be done, but I might have to breathe down their necks heavily, which doesn't come naturally to me.
Meanwhile, I had my first Skype lesson with my Trinidadian students. The magic of it reminded me of the first time I sent a fax, back in 1990 when I applied for the position with Sandra Wagstaff Violins. In Beverley where I lived at the time, the only publicly accessible fax machine lived in a furniture store (by the same logic that you went to the pet shop to have your passport photos taken, and bought your eggs at the pub). Standing among the humdrum collection of veneered beds and overstuffed sofas, I felt transported by the idea that as my resume ticked through the machine, it simultaneously appeared in someone's office, half a world away. It seemed nothing short of miraculous then, just as seeing my Trinidadian students in my home office is now.
Just before I left for Trinidad, I finished the violin I made alongside my students last year. I posted some pictures of it in the photo gallery, but here is one more: