I was sitting in the office today, and out of nowhere I had the strongest memory of being on the hangar deck of the Truman. Couldn’t figure out why for a minute, and then I realized I was wrinkling my nose and trying to breathe through my mouth. Someone had opened the outside door (leading directly to the parking lot), and the scent of exhaust combined with paint had wafted in. Scent memory is a funny thing.
Somebody wants the piano! (Who needs segues, anyway?) Our neighborhood has a message board, so I posted on it Sunday afternoon. I described the condition of the piano and basically said I’d like it to go to a good home. Otherwise, I’ll probably donate it. I got an email today from a woman who said she’s interested. Her daughter takes lessons and needs a piano to practice on, so I invited her to come over and see it. I’m very excited. 🙂 Yay for community!
momma betty
Be sure she knows the history. And that the bass end can never be fully tuned unless the crack is repaired. But for lessons–fine.
Zannah
I told them all that.