T-Bone came home with a big surprise tonight.
“Happy Mother’s Day Birthday Anniversary!”
My jaw hit the floor when he came in dragging this behind him. Partly in surprise (wow!), but partly because he brought this huge thing home on the subway. In rush hour. Ha.
I’ve been wanting to take piano lessons for years. And have been talking about it for years. I’ve got an old piano waiting for me back home, but we haven’t managed to move back to Chicagoland yet to be reunited with it and T apparently got sick of listening to me wistfully talk about it.
So now we’ve got a digital one to learn on in the meantime.
The more the merrier, if you ask me. A home can never be filled with too much music.
I briefly took piano lessons as a kid. I think I was around ten and they lasted one summer. I’ve always regretted not pushing to continue, but it’s never too late to start again, right?
Right?
I must admit, I’m a bit nervous. I’m not sure how we could fit formal lessons into either our calendar or our budget at the moment, so I need to start on my own. T dug out his old music theory textbook from college to get me started on the basics and I’m starting to research “teach yourself” books and websites online.
The piano sits on my desk, daring me to come over and play. Only I don’t know how.
Musical folks — how would you attempt to tackle this new beast, if you were me?
