It’s been to Marc and Michelle's wedding and, three weeks later, the piano is home again! It needs a good dusting after riding in the back of a truck, but that didn’t stop me from sitting right down and playing the four songs I have learned. They are simple, with sparse chords, but my fingers remember what to do even when my eyes are frantically lost among the notes I’m reading.
When I slip up, I curse loudly (according to Everett, but what does he know? He doesn’t notice that I also whoop with the pure joy of it); well hey, at age 52, I should be able to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star without screwing up! The other three selections in my beginner's repertoire? Silent Night, Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory, and Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes. Not too impressive, nor do I care. I am having fun. And here’s the amazing part: I can’t sing and play guitar at the same time, but piano? I can chord, play the melody, and sing harmony! How can this be? I don’t know, but it feels good.
Now that the piano's back, I'm ready for the talented people to show up and party. I've got Mom's accordion, and a harmonica, and my bass guitar. Enough to fit everyone up with an instrument and have a kitchen hoe-down.
|So far this fairy seems to be keeping the cats out of the flower pot.|
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