what's not to love & the piano teacher story

Sorry I've been away a couple days. Busy. Missed you. So much to tell. Where to start? First, a poem written today: a most enchanting sunny, breezy day.

Chameleon on a Brick Wall

This sunny moment,

birdsong overfills the air.
The sun has been lumbering all day
across a cloudless sky,
gently beseeching life.
A breeze jangles the
fresh-sprung clematis leaves
climbing the mailbox.
A chameleon sits on a brick wall
thinking of nothing but
his next meal. He doesn’t care a
whit for the beauty of his gossamer skin,
but I do. He thinks only of function.
If only I could live that way.
                     -Kimberly Laustsen

     Next, bargains. Yesterday morning, I noticed a rummage sale advertised in the paper. I had not been to one in years. The sale was across the street from the gym I was going to for a yoga class at eleven. Bingo. I got there right when it started at nine am. This rummage was to benefit a woman's shelter and children's charities. What's not to love about that? Also, the women running the sale were all insanely nice. Their stuff was top notch. Most of it was priced at my benchmark (ten percent of original cost), or less. Here are some of my buys. P.S. Some of these were purchased this morning, as I had to drag my neighbor/BFF, Tammilyn, there when they opened today so she could share in the glory. We spent several hours. Fun.

Brighton



Fendi

Purses, anyone? I know, I just got a Brighton the other week. So I like purses. Sue me. These were 15 bucks each. Big money, but, hey, it's for charity, people.

Blouse. A buck. I could dive into this fabric and never come up for air. It's that pretty.

Let's just start by saying I'm a music lover. I started piano lessons, a lifelong dream, a couple years ago. Right from the start, I could see that my teacher was a bit unusual. She was a large woman close to retirement age who ran around in stretchy cotton matching shorts and t-shirt sets every day of the year. Even if it was snowing outside. She wore long elastic gloves, which I suspected were for medical purposes, but I'm not certain. Her house, which she rarely left, was furnished in two grand pianos, and shelves and shelves of sheet music. That is all. She must have had some normal furniture in the nether regions, but I never saw those.

     She had several cats, which were given to roaming onto one's lap, or the piano without notice. One was instructed to let this happen, as the cats were sensitive, and we didn't want to hurt their feelings. Also, this teacher would often run into her kitchen, and emerge with a peanut butter sandwich to randomly eat during the lesson. A couple of times, she excused herself in order to lie down for a fifteen minute rest.  

     All these things seemed odd, but she had come highly recommended by an extremely musically literate friend whose own kids went to her for lessons. I figured if she was good enough for them, she'd do for me. And so it went until one fateful day several months into my lessons when she started crying as I played Blow The Man Down; a rendition  of which I was quite proud. At first, I thought; wow, I guess that came off even better than it seemed, as it has up and brought her to tears.
    
     Not so much, as it turns out. When the woman (who shall remain nameless, as I couldn't even name her if I tried, having literally blocked it out) finally calmed down, she proceeded to say, "Now that's the kind of music I hate. I can't stand it. It hurts my musical sensibilities. I just can't listen to that." Apparently, at her house, cats get coddled, but "Katie bar the door" when it comes to trashing humans.

      This is a true story. The woman was actually crying, sobbing if you want to know the truth,  because my playing was so bad. I should have said, "Dude, chill. This is not the philharmonic." But I'm the kind of person who thinks of a good comeback afterwards. As in months later.

     The worst part of the whole thing was, as luck would have it, this was the first week of the month and I had already paid for the entire month. Being a value-minded individual, even after her hysterics, I felt compelled to finish out the month. I'd paid good money for those lessons, goshdarn it. The next three sessions were, let's just say, awkward. At the end of them, my musical career came to an abrupt halt.

     Now I am a music appreciator exclusively, which brings me to this buy. Lots of interesting CD's. Twenty-five cents each. I love to try new artists, as I like to listen to music as I write, or do almost anything. I'm gonna break these babies out slowly, and get to know each one well. So far, the Ray Lynch, No Blue Thing, chosen at random for the first listen, has been wonderful!

Got 2 of these super cool old iron hanging thingies for two bucks each. I plan to put potted plants in them and hang them on our pergola out back. This is perfect timing, as our wax myrtle, which resided beside the pergola for a decade died of late, so I was looking to get some hanging pots to fill in where Old Waxie used to provide us afternoon shade on the back patio. These puppies could be just the ticket. Going to Home Depot tomorrow for chain to hang them. Stay tuned.

Vintage glass flower frog, fifty cent. Peter Max scarf, one dolla'. Need I say more?

 

Tomorrow I will share with you a super delish recipe. Up till now, it has been a closely held secret, but, for you, all will be revealed. I am off to watch Crazy Stupid Love. TTFN.