Moving Day!!! A new experience as we sort and decide which items will move from the village to the farm four miles away.
The big old upright piano gets special care. (And a few words from the men loading and unloading.)
The piano finds a home in the living room. The new dog, a German Shephard, finds a comfy place curled under the keyboard whenever mother sits down to play.
Piano lessons for two begin. My brother stays with it a year. Reasons abound for me to continue. So every Tuesday after supper mother (only rarely father) drives me across the top of the hill, down to the lake, and along the shore to the teacher they selected. Scales, simple arrangements of old standards, and hymns are assigned and mastered in varying degrees.
Life gets busy. The lessons are discontinuted for other music and church activities. Some of the playing continues. The music is still fun to play when I can select the tune.
Then one day we purchase a book of simple duets. The brother dusts off his music reading and works on the bass part. I repeat and repeat and repeat the top. We play for fun. And one day reach a pinnicale of sorts.
We’ve just started the long piece. Mother insists I run upstairs to fetch something. Off I go as quick as long, teen legs will take me. The thump, thump, tump of the piece continue in my absence. I slip back into my chair, catch the spot in the melody, and we continue the piece.