I grew up with a piano in the house.  We took lessons but none of us was what you’d call a musical prodigy.  I remember all the piano teachers both the good ones and the bad.  Scales?  Yes, I can still play them.  One of the teachers had insisted on hours of practicing scales.

     However, there was one person in our house who could play beautifully, if you could catch her at it.  That person was my grandmother.  You truly had to sneak up on her to hear her play the piano because she’d never play when she thought anyone was home.  That woman could play like a dream.  I remember many a time hiding on the stairs, practically holding my breath to make sure she didn’t know I was there, and listening to her play.

     I miss having a piano and maybe one day I’ll buy one.  There’s always some old piano for sale in the newspaper at a cheap price.  I already know where I’d put a small one.  All my old sheet music and lesson books are stashed in a bookcase.