This week I was going to write something worthy about what makes a good short story. However, events overtook me and yesterday I took delivery of my mother's old piano. I was so excited. It's been over four years since she died and I've wanted to move the piano here since then, but haven't quite got round to it due to practical and emotional reasons. This year I decided it was time. I've been itching to play the piano again for years now. I had lessons as a teenager and reached the dizzy heights of achieving The London College of Music Grade 5 in theory and practical. I'm horribly out of practice now, though.
Anyway, after a few phone calls and a very efficient removal company (GP Removals) in Leamington Spa, I saw Mum's beloved piano being taken off the back of the removal van. It was an emotional moment. And exciting! I watched nervously as the removal men negotiated the tricky turn in our extension, upending the piano to get it into 'the music room' (sounds very grand, but it isn't!). Finally it was in place and I couldn't wait for them to leave so that I could play.
I unpacked a large box of Mum's sheet music and found some of the pieces I used to play. The only one I could remember well was Beethoven's Fur Elise. I struggled through it, but I did enjoy playing it. I was surprised to find that the piano wasn't terribly out of tune, but later in the day once the central heating had got going, a few notes were sticking and not sounding. I hope the piano tuner (or someone) can sort it out.
Now I'm contemplating refresher lessons. Yes, I'm that enthused. The writing? Oh, that can wait!!