danza

Today everything is hoppin'. The weekend is beginning really early and SEVERE EMERGENCY MODE has begun here in preparation for The Other Reunion. Yesterday didn't happen because tomorrow is so engrossing. So there's a lot of buzzing but I'm hardly involved in any of it. I myself have been walking about in the sun barefootedly and I looked at the garden for a while doing mental weeding and then I picked up the gladiolas the storm had blown down and brought them inside. They are in a vase on the dining table now and I can't stop looking at them. They are so fabulous and bold and tall and content. They make me delighted.

I am considering in my mind a complete overhaul of the Spinet. I was considering in my mind chopping it all to splinters with the Paterfamilias's machete and making a resolution to give up every other luxury I would ever want to use money for like education and food, and taking all the money I have and buying a sleek black grand piano, a Steinway I think, a really really really big one. But then, I thought, where would I put it. Plan B is overhaul. First I'm going to dust it off lovingly. This is what we call small steps.
My dear little piano. We are both so poor and beautiful.
I am very untroubled and silent, only being Now and only thinking about the little boy coming today in four hours. When I was looking at the spinet earlier doing all that considering, I noticed that it has slowly and surely changed since he began to come play it. There are sheets of smiley faced stickers where all my Beethoven used to be and there's a glass full of colored markers on my pile of staff paper and little scraps we've practiced drawing treble clefs on and the metronome is sitting open and askew in a prominent place because all of the sudden it is fun? Whence cometh this? My piano is becoming a teacher piano. It's a mommy piano. This is terrible and different and so OK.