The Piano

About twenty-nine years ago we acquired this piano.  I grow up with a piano and took lessons as a child.  My piano teacher was appropriately named Mr. Keyes.  I was a poor student; sadly I didn’t like to practice.  And more sadly my Mother didn't like to listen to my whining and understandably didn't like to pay for lessons which I didn’t prepare for.  So she let me quit.  Not my proudest moment.  Nevertheless I wanted to have a piano in our home.  It just seems to me a home isn't a home without a piano.  So when the opportunity arose twenty-nine years ago I jumped at it.  Only three hundred bucks for this baby. 

It was in sad shape when we got it.  So Mr. Man removed the very ugly antique green paint and took it back to its natural finish.  The worn keys, well they just added character.  Over the years we have moved it seven times.  And with each subsequent move it has gained what seems like about 200 pounds a move.  Simple put it weighs a TON!  Mr. Man said we would never move it again.  That it must stay with the house  in the event we should ever move.  Well as much as I’ve grown accustom to this now priceless baby Huey, I've longed for the day to have a new (or new to us) piano.  One that was smaller, one that weighed much less and one that had all working keys.  I wasn't looking for one I just knew that someday it would find me.  (That's how things work for me.)  And it has.  So we found a loving home for our first piano and last night brought home our “new to us” piano.  And I love it!

 Welcome home!