when you take a sip you buzz like a hornet

restringing a guitar is probably the most calming repetitive task i know.   the smell of spanish cypress compels me to hug my guitar’s body warmly.  the feel of the peaks and valleys of the wound bronze strings running across skin provides a sharp contrast to the smooth wood.  the chirping of skin sliding over the strings recalls the sound of sneakers against the floor of a gymnasium.  the first pluck of the new string produces a buzz that is felt in that one place deep in the chest.  you know the one.  i find it impossible to be upset by the time the last string is in place.