Playing my mother's mountain dulcimer

 When my mother died five years ago, one of the things I inherited was a mountain dulcimer I'm not sure she had ever played.
  She was originally from Tennessee -- part of the Appalachian area where mountain dulcimers were once popular -- and it had sat in a wooden box for who-knows-how-many years.
  A Christmas gift from Rick was two mountain dulcimer lessons and I finally had my first one.
  It's a pretty instrument -- slim and shapely, with a lovely twang that is a perfect accompaniment for the high-pitched Appalachian singing you can hear in movies like the lovely "Song Catcher."
  You play it on your lap, running your finger across one string while stroking across all three (or four, depending on the instrument) strings with a pick.
  My mother's dulcimer was hopelessly out of tune and didn't seem to hold a tuning (perhaps why she never played it) so my teacher, Mark Christian, loaned me his while hers was being examined.
  Today I practiced "Mary had a little lamb" and other childhood songs but I loved just playing around and running my finger up and down the strets while stroking with the pick. I feel like I'm "picking" my past, a beloved Appalachian history that runs through my veins even though I didn't grow up there. It's like the sound somehow belongs to me, even though I've never heard it before.
  I'll keep you advised on the first concert.