Saturday, and time to do things other than guitar making. Playing with the children, baking blueberry muffins and feeding the chickens. I wake to find one of our children has slipped into our bed, and as I open my eyes I see this perfect creature washed up by the soft nocturnal tide. He pings awake and is off to find adventure and breakfast. The workshop isn't completely off limits so some more polishing takes place. Frank calls in on his way West and sets up his first guitar - sounding as good as ever. I take the opportunity to sort out Gordon's guitar which I will get back to him after the weekend. Finally, a picture of the Weissgerber having its bridge glued on.