I'm so irritated about my last post that I decided to take a break from all of my theology (I've been thinking about it nonstop for three days) and post some pics.
My first guitar is a bass that Andy bought me when we were dating. I loved learning it, and I enjoy playing, but I don't normally get asked to because practically everyone can play the bass. It looks black, but it's actually a dark sparkly brown. I saw it at Mars one day and loved it, and it was on sale, and since you know how much Andy and I love things on sale, he went back for it later and bought it for me -- I think 6 years ago, maybe longer.
My second guitar has a lot of sentimental value. I love my dad and used to watch him play his guitar (A D45 until it was stolen, I forgot what he has now, but it's almost as nice as the 45) when I was very little. I can remember several occasions, but for some reason I never thought of playing myself. Then I married Andy, who taught me to play, and my dad was so glad that I was learning, that he bought me this baby Taylor for my birthday -- I think that was 3 years ago.
Then, this year for Christmas my uncle Mark MADE me a guitar. Yes, he made this! The electronics and everything! Can you believe it? Look at that inlay!
The funny thing about me getting this guitar is that Andy broke his acousic guitar (and we had just sold his bright blue bass) by dropping it on its neck, so the main player in our family, Andy, didn't have a single guitar and I had three. The same day uncle Mark gave me this guitar, I was planning on giving Andy his Christmas present, which was a beautiful Martin, so it worked out in the end -- but I milked it for all it was worth, saying, "Oh Andy, I'm so sorry you still don't have a guitar..." So, of course, he was giddy, in an Andy sort of way, when he got his guitar later that afternoon.