Singing and Cutting

Last night Richard had friends over, we ate by candle light, and burnt a camp fire. Nicholas started playing guitar and singing all these French songs. It was beautiful; sometimes his wife would join in. I think I got a recording of it, haven't checked the quality yet. We talked a bit about singing, and how people don't know all the old folk songs anymore. People don't sing socially anymore. It's strange and sad. Sometimes it can be beautiful, but others uncomfortable. I almost sang Shenandoah, lack of practice, uncomfortable. I do want to play an intrument. Piano. Though the uilean pipes or concertina is more portable, both are expensive. I like the pipes more I think... We started cutting pieces for the office this morning. Got an early start to take advantage of the cool air and sun power. All the desks cut out and in place look shallower than I thought, but it will work, such a small space! Oh well. There'd be nother if not for us. It's nice to do some wood working, but worrisome as well. I worry more being in these mountains than anywhere else we've been so far. I'm most nervous on in between days, not know what to expect from the next host. I'm usually fine once we get therel it doesn't take a lot of skill or thought to weed a garlic patch. But here, testing my design and construction abilities puts me a little on edge. This is amplified by the extreme lack of privacy here.

A bit on a word: what's a word for a good sound? A good sight is beautiful, and good taste is delicious, what about sound?