Here’s a Poem

The Old Piano

Once I am sure there's nothing going on
I step inside, letting the door thud shut. *
Dust swirls up from the broad slat floor.
It dances in streaks of dim sunlight
From clouded windows, twirling toward
The upright in the shadowy back corner,
Pulling me toward the upright in the back corner.

The keys are covered by the mahogany lid.
I write “PIANO” with my finger in the dust
Then erase it with my palm and regret it.
I wipe the grime from my palm onto my blue jeans,
Leaving a gray-tan streak, and uncover the keys.

Everyone plays middle-C; I choose A.
The hammer strikes the old string,
Which rings, twangs, groans, plunks.
The note pulses in my ears, through the piano,
Vibrating the other A strings,
Through the room, swirling with the dust.
I add C# but then play C instead.

I look around for a bench, a stool, a chair.
I see a 3-legged stool that should have 4.

My fingers find the notes I know in my head.
The honky-tonk tone of the neglected strings
Dissolves as the music surrounds me, fills the room.

I wish I could say that the music makes the dust clear
And the sun shine brighter through the windows.

When it’s finished, the last chord rings
Until it is muted, swallowed by the gloom.
I close the cover on the keys,
Letting it thud shut.


* The first 2 lines are from "Church Going," from The Less Deceived by Philip Larkin (Marvell Press, 1955)

The Argument For

Don't get me wrong. I am not saying that it is a good idea, or even okay, really, for my girls to spend their entire summer vacation in front of the TV, but I will admit that I let them watch a little every day. Once they have done certain things (like Pete practicing piano and Lulu picking up her toys and getting dressed) (or dressed again - it's hard to keep that kid clothed).

This summer they discovered "Time Warp Trio." It's a silly show about a magical book that sends these 3 kids back into history. They meet actual cartoon representations of historical figures and visit historical time periods and apparently my children are learning a little bit here and there. And it's hard to argue that there is no value in this program when Pete knows more about Mary Shelley than Husbandguy does (he said, "Isn't 'Mary Shelley' a pseudonym? It's a man, right?"), especially since she's not old enough to read Frankenstein yet.

On the other hand, it is not hard to argue that there is no value in watching another program about a square, yellow sea creature type thing and turn the TV off. So I still do that.

Once Again, Proud. of. Pete.

Pete had her Guild audition this past Saturday. It was in the same church where they had it last year, but they had added windows to the back of the sanctuary so I could actually see and hear her as she played this time. I tried not to stare because I didn't want to make her nervous, but when she was playing, I did sneak peeks since her back was to me and I knew hoped she wouldn't be looking behind her while she played. You'll never guess how she did. Seriously. Guess. Fine, I'll just tell you that she did AWESOME. Of course. And later that day we got an email from her teacher saying that she scored a "Superior." I can't wait to see her report card on Tuesday because you can't score a "Superior" without doing really well at a bunch of things.

Then on Sunday, the children's choir director had invited children who hadn't been in choir during the year to come and sit in for rehearsal and just give it a try (anyone could have joined at any time, but the invitation was kind of a come-see-what-it's-about-now-that-we're-done-learning-songs-for-services-so-you'll-know-you-want-to-sing-with-us-next-year), and Pete went. She sat with her arms crossed the whole time, but her lips were moving and she was paying attention so I think the arm-crossing was protective rather than defensive. And when it was over, she came right up to me and said, "I want to do this next year." AW! Me too!! I mean for her. I want her to do that next year too.

The church's music director had stopped by to play the piano for that rehearsal, which I imagine he doesn't always do since he's got his own choirs to direct and stuff, and after it was over, he caught my eye and said, "[Bel], you play piano, right?" and somehow that turned into me bringing home some music to learn so I can accompany them next week. So that was cool. Or whatever.

But this post is about Pete. Please join me in celebrating my Musical Child. I've always wanted a Musical Child.

Plus, also, she's just really cool in general.

First Assignment

Dad and I had an early dinner and headed out to my piano lesson. It was dark earlier than usual because the sun had gone down behind thick snow clouds. He parked the car behind the church, and as we got out and started across the street to the building that housed the church offices and Sunday school classrooms, we could hear the gentle tap, tap of the first snowflakes falling on the holly bushes that lined the side wall of the church.

The front door of the renovated old farmhouse stuck a little. It always took the slightest extra nudge to pop it open. My stomach jumped with the sound of the door un-sticking, and the butterflies that had been fluttering just a little became more forceful as we went in and started up the wooden stairs. I was always a little nervous before my piano lesson, but this night, each step up to the next stair just increased my nervousness because I knew that Holly would know that I hadn't practiced what she had assigned for me. Plus, I needed to cut my fingernails.

The lesson before mine was just finishing. I could hear the last few notes of a piece and then Holly's voice. My nervousness turned to a guilty dread as I listened to the sound of a folding metal chair scrape the floor and then the student's mother's voice getting nearer as they came toward the door. I hoped that they knew they could take their time. There were the usual hello's and how-are-you's when they opened the door and came out and my father and I went in. I took my time crossing the long room to the tall antique upright in the far corner. I sat on the round-topped wooden stool and was relieved to feel that it was too low. I stood and postponed my lesson a little longer by spinning it higher. Very slowly. Eventually, though, I had to sit down. It wasn’t that I hadn’t practiced at all; I just hadn’t practiced what Holly had told me to.

I sat and turned to Holly. “Before we start, can I play something for you?” I asked. I had read ahead in my lesson book and knew that I could play the next piece well. She agreed, and I opened my book.

I don’t remember the name of the piece or the way the notes looked on the page or even the melody. I have a vague feeling now that the piece was in the key of D Major. Maybe D minor. What I do remember is that when I started to play, I felt the music fill the room. I don’t know where it came from. The music didn’t come from inside me. It felt like came through me. It flowed out of me as if I was the instrument and the music played me. And while I played, I wasn’t full of butterflies anymore. I was confident and comfortable and whole, engulfed by the music.

Oh, Where to Start... Where to Start...

Did you miss me? Oddly, while I've been away, I have found me. More on that later. For now, here's what my Facebook status says tonight:

[MN] was totally confused when the girls and I got home from [Pete]'s piano lesson this evening and found [Husbandguy] cleaning the kitchen. I had asked him to take care of dinner because whatever virus had been stalking me last week is finally catching up (I made it wait until after Follies), and the first thing he said was, "There is a showing at 6." I couldn't understand why he was thinking about going to a movie! What movie? And what about dinner? It was 5:00 when we got home. And what about [Lulu]? Was he thinking we'd take her? She had fallen asleep (hard) in the car so was he just thinking he and [Pete] would go? It had been so long since we'd shown our house that it didn't occur to me that he meant potential buyer was coming to look at it! Anyway, fingers crossed... It's not too late to postpone the piano tuner yet so I doubt this is the one...

To catch you up, the Follies is what I'm going to tell you more about later, our house is still for sale and we haven't shown it in about a month, and I had been waiting to call the piano tuner because I didn't want to get it tuned and then move it and have to get it tuned again right away but it was almost torture to play it so I called him on Monday and he's coming next week so if we do get an offer from this buyer, I still have time to postpone the tuning and not pay twice, thus preventing the cosmic practical joke. Also, that is too many characters for a fb status so half of it is in comments (just in case someone clever wants to call me on that...).

Welcome back, MN!

Musical Me

Enough Already with the Nostalgia! You're probably tired of my "I used to be..." posts. Although, I haven't done one in a while... So here. Here's another. I used to be known for my musical ability. I was considered a musical person. I played nearly all the instruments in the band (I think saxophone was the only one I never attempted any version of), I took piano lessons for years and years, I sang in the chorus - even made it to All-State, and at church, I was in the voice and handbell choirs and did many piano or flute or voice solos. Ah, the good old days. When it wasn't unusual to hear things like, "I'm/We're singing/playing-the-[instrument] at/for [something]. Can you accompany me/us?" or "Our tuba player graduated. Now what will we do for the bass line? Oh, maybe you could..." "You" meaning me, of course. *wistful sigh*


Gone! It's All GONE! *tears hair* But then I moved here. What's the musical difference between NH and NC, you ask? I dunno. But for me it's big, apparently. Because here I am not known as a musical person. I'm known as a good baker, the person who increased PTA membership by 75% this past year, the mom of 2 brilliant and beautiful girls, and to some extent, a writer, but musical? Oh? You played the piano? Hmm. That's *snore* interesting... My one musical friend moved away years ago (and now is moving even FARTHER AWAY >:-P), and our piano stood neglected for many, many, many years. Until Pete started lessons. Yay for Pete! The poor piano was soooo lonely.

Slowly but Surely... Remember that I joined the church to join the choir. I think I mentioned that before (click the tag that says "church" below to read all about it). And then I decided not to join the choir because I don't want to have to go to the late service ever. That's too much of my Sunday away from the family. But then my need for music wasn't met by joining the church like I hoped it would be. So when I saw in our newsletter that the choir director was offering a 3-week music theory and sight singing class, I signed up. A little review would be a good thing, I felt, and just maybe...

Teacher's Pet? In high school, my band director invented an award just for me: The Most Instruments Played Award. I was honored. I earned it. I had talent. He knew it. I have been, now, to exactly 1 theory class and have already made a name for myself. We introduced ourselves and talked about our musical background, and the choir director seemed maybe a little impressed by mine. That felt good. And then he started the class, and all of the sudden I was again the Most Musical of People. The first class was, of course, very basic theory: note values, major and minor, key signatures, etc. Stuff I remember. By the end of the class, he was asking questions for us to answer and would say to me, "I know you know this," and then he'd call on me only if no one else answered. It was cool. Maybe I don't need to take this class... But he promised to cover chords and everything later, which I do need to review, so that will be good, and I know I can use practice sight-singing. And maybe he'll ask me to help out with the music in some way some Sunday.

Plus, it feels good. To be Most Musical again. Oh, and I stayed for choir practice...

Imagery

At her piano lesson this afternoon, Pete finished playing one of her pieces and then said, "Mrs. H? You know those music sidewalks that you walk on and they make sounds? When I played that piece, I felt like my fingers were a ballerina dancing on one of those sidewalks." Beautiful and fitting.

Piano Lessons

Pete's piano teacher lent Lulu and me a lesson book for very young pianists. Today was Lulu's second "lesson" (with me), and so far she's amazing. Last week she learned about high sounds and low sounds, which she talked about all week. This morning she learned about moving up and moving down, and a brief quiz in the car on the way home from Target showed that she's got that concept down too. The only problem we're having is that she isn't content to just do one lesson a week. She wanted to move right on to loud and soft after we talked about moving up and moving down and was very 2-years-old when I told her we had to wait for that. I just want to be certain she gets one concept before moving on to the next. Baby steps. We've got lots of time.

Anyway, so far so good. Wish us luck. I wish I'd had this book when Pete was tiny.

Piano Lesson

Waiting room.
I chose the couch
With the view of the bench
And your back when you play.
I brought a book
Apparently just to hold in my lap.

I know all of these pieces
But at home
You fly through them
In a race with the timer,
In a hurry to do
Anything else.

Your body blocks your hands.
I see the music in your shoulders
And your back.
I want to sit next to you,
Watching your fingers or
Playing Secondo.

When it stops,
When you stop playing,
My 7 year-old reappears -
Self-conscious, uncertain, awkward.
"Um... I don't know."

If only you could be
Always confident, proud, graceful,
Always playing the piano.

I like this place.



April is National Poetry Month so, in honor of that, several other writers and I are posting a poem-a-day for the whole month. If you decide to post a poem too, let me know and I'll post a link so we can all read it.

Pete Is "Excellent"

Pete played 2 memorized pieces for a judge this morning. She's been working hard getting ready for this for the last few weeks, and apparently all the hard work paid off because, her rating? "Excellent." Yay Pete!!

"Are You a Musician?"

After the service yesterday, I was trying to catch up with the music director at my church (I turned in my membership papers yesterday and so can say "my church"), but he was clearly busy and I couldn't catch him. I was on the verge of just trying next week when I caught sight of a table marked "Music Stuff" or "Music Program" or "the Table Where One Can Learn About Music at this Church" or something equally as obvious. I didn't hear angels or anything, but it was definitely a moment when another, more desperate person (like me in a month) might have seen a glowing halo and heard "Aaaaaahhh..."

"Look," I said to Pete. "I bet that's where I need to go." Pete said, "What?" I don't think she's quite as concerned about me joining the choir as I am.

When I approached the table and flashed my friendliest new-person-in-need-of-guidance smile (it's really very striking and always get results), I was greeted with this question, "Are you a musician?"

Am I a musician? Hmm... Am I?

Eighteen years ago, my automatic and immediate answer would have been, "Pshaw! Of course! What a silly question!" Because I was then. I played piano and tuba and flute and oboe and bass drum and many, many other band instruments (I won an award from our director for "most diverse") and guitar and sang and hung out with musicians on a regular basis for whom I wrote incredibly poetic little songs for them to screech into a microphone in their mom's garage or rec room (and who played in the school band or regularly sang with me in front of audiences). And even a few short years after that, I might have unhesitatingly said, "Yes!" because of PSP and her dad.

But I hesitated for an instant. I really did. Most recently my musicality has been limited to bedtime lullabies and warbling along with Music for Aardvarks in the car and counting to 4 while my sweet and talented Pete practices her piano. Oh, and singing in the shower, but a rousing chorus of "Let It Snow!" amongst the suds does not make you a musician (sorry, but it really doesn't). For just an instant I hesitated.

Then I said, clearly and with certainty, "YES." I am a musician.

I may be out of practice. I really need to hone my sight-singing and piano skills, but this is why one of the main reasons I went looking for a church. Music is almost missing from my life and this is wrong. The music program at a church seemed like the best place to get it back. It's a starting place, at least.

So I signed my name and my phone number and my email address and indicated that I'm interested in choir and play a little piano and am just waiting now to hear from the director. From what I've heard, he should be anxious to talk to me. Everyone seems to think he's desperate for musicians. Although from what I've seen he's more than sufficiently surrounded by talent...

And as an added bonus, later in the day I read in either the Order of Service or the monthly newsletter that they're starting an audition-only chamber choir! Ho. Ly. Mo. Ly. That is for me.

My Year in Review

Let's see... What did I do this year... What happened to/around me...

My husband worked hard every day at home and at work. He lost his job and found a better one. He continued doing what he does best and what irritates me the most.

My oldest daughter turned 6 and started first grade. She learned that she can read chapter books to herself and that 2+3=5 (and other "math facts") and how to write her name in cursive. She had her first guild audition and piano recital. She picked out the newest member of our family. She started mastering the elementary backstroke (which doesn't look very elementary to me - it looks complex!). She took her first trip to Ohio, my birth state. She made butter.

My younger daughter turned 2 and learned the sound that Q makes (and a bunch of other letter sounds). She made new friends everywhere she went. Literally. Everywhere. She thought about using the potty fulltime but decided it's not for her yet. She learned to count to eleventeen, but then exceeded that and counted all the way to 20. She discovered (unexpectedly, and surprising her daddy in the process) that it is fun to go underwater in the pool.

We, as a family, got a puppy and taught him to sit. Well, maybe that was mostly me, but he lives with all of us. We weathered stressful times before Husbandguy got laid off when everyone else in his office was losing their jobs and then while he was out of work. We used our season passes to our local amusement park enough to make them worth the money, but not as much as we would have liked. We went on several trips out of state and (re)connected with old friends and/or relatives we hadn't seen in forever (or ever met in some cases). We laughed and played and cried and yelled and smiled and sang and complained and glared and colored and read and slammed doors and painted walls and broke things and fixed things and kissed and hugged and grew and learned.

It seems that this post is more about what happened around me this year. I think I'll save what happened to me for a separate post. Either it would make this post too long to address it here or it wouldn't add anything and won't be missed. We'll see...

For me, It's Not About the Dancing

Pete and I went on our annual trip downtown to see "The Nutcracker" yesterday. Is it a tradition if you've only done it 2 years in a row? I think so.

The performance wasn't any better or worse than last year. I don't think. I have to admit that I missed a lot of the dancing. My eyes were on the orchestra pit. The music was live! How could I not watch the musicians? Next year I'm bringing my binoculars. To watch the musicians. Ballet is so much better with live music. And there were a couple of times (don't laugh at me) when the music got all dramatic and I got all choked up (I said don't laugh at me). For real. Tears-in-my-eyes choked up. I'm pretty sure certain the dancing wasn't what got to me, and I don't think it was the story (although I am a sucker for a sweet little fantasy). It was the music. Our little symphony is pretty good. And music just gets to me. Not only classical music either. All music. All kinds. I don't have the same reaction to all music, either. Sometimes I get weepy, like with this or with some religious or patriotic songs (those of you who know me best might think that's odd, but what can I say?). Sometimes I get all bubbly-inside happy (there is actually at least one Cure song that does that to me). Sometimes I get excited - heart racing, fight-or-flight kind of excited. Sometimes I get aroused ((blush))... I don't usually get angry (although I did get a little annoyed at the parent of the little girl who crinkled her cellophane for about 10 minutes after the lights went down for the 2nd act. I would have told her to stop myself if I'd been closer. But that wasn't a reaction to the music). In fact, if I don't have a physical reaction to music I'm listening to, I have to figure out why. So instead of listening to KISS sing "Rock and Roll All Night" with Husbandguy, I hear the lack of depth in the music and wish we could change the station.

It's kind of the same when I'm playing the piano or singing. At least it used to be. When I am comfortable with a piece, the music is physical for me. It comes through me. Or out of me. The piano - keys, pedals, bench even - and the music - melody, chords, harmony & dissonance - and I aren't separate. It's weird to say I become one with the music. And it's not exactly accurate to say that because that's not what it's like. Maybe it's right to say I become one with the piano. That's still weird, but it's closer... However I describe it (and I'll think of a good description as soon as this posts), it's physical. If it's not, it feels fake and it's frustrating and not pleasurable or worth doing.

So I wish they would always have live music at the ballet. Or if they don't, I wish they would print the information about the recording they're using, at least, because I think it's important. And I hope that at some point in the near future, HG says yes (yes=shrugs his shoulders and doesn't say no), that there's enough money for me to take piano lessons again and that he and the girls will support my doing that. And in the meantime, if someone has a copy of Bach's 2-Part Invention #13 in A-minor that you could share with me, would you send it along? I have a whole book of his 3-part inventions (thank you, TG), but I think I'd like to learn that one.

Probation

Pete is terrible about practicing her piano. If my parents ever wished that I would have a kid as difficult as me about practicing, they got their wish. After 3 weeks in a row of her just practicing 1 day each week, Husbadguy and I told her that if she didn't shape up, she was going to have to take lessons from me. Mostly I told her that, actually. Then she and I talked some more because she doesn't want to stop taking lessons from a real teacher and I don't really want to have to teach her (we don't always work well together), and we decided that she can have the month of October to prove to us that we're not wasting our money and that she's serious about learning. I asked her if she would let me be in charge of her practicing, and she shook her head no and I shook my head yes and she changed her shaking to agree with mine. Now I'm in charge of her practicing, and it's not as bad as I think she thought it would be.

So far so good, but we've got most of the month left to go...

More Minuet

Pete played the Minuet twice yesterday, the first section anyway - I haven't finished it yet. It sounded great, but she seemed hesitant to play it more than twice ("Aw! [[SIGH]] I'll do it tomorrow, Mom. [[SIGH]]"). I shouldn't have told her I arranged it because for some reason that makes her less than enthusiastic about playing it. Even though it's really for the Grandpa! What's the deal?

Bach's Minuet in D minor

The Grandpa is learning Minuet in D minor, and when he was talking to Pete on the phone the other day, he asked Pete to learn it too and play it for him so he could hear what it should sound like. That's what Pete says. So yesterday at her piano lesson, Pete asked her teacher for the music who gave it to her. So my newest project to postpone writing my novel is to arrange this pretty little piece for easy piano, and I really think I can do it. When it's done and Pete has learned it, I'll try to remember to post a sound file for you to hear (remind me if I forget).

Pete's Recital

Pete's very first piano recital was yesterday. She did an amazing job. She played Beethoven's "Ode to Joy." She got stuck in the middle on one note. But she figured it out and went on. We're very proud of her.

I'm Tempted

Husbandguy is totally willing to pick Pete up this afternoon and take her to her piano lessons. I think I'm only supposed to have him do that if coming off my steroids causes me to feel like I shouldn't drive, as it does frequently. The problem is this: I don't usually realize that I feel like I shouldn't drive until I am actually driving, at which time today it would be too late. So since Lulu was up last night for 3+ hours for no reason and I am currently feeling groggy and nauseated, I am tempted to ask HG to handle the piano lesson. Pete will be thrilled, and there's nothing going on today that I need to be there for. Plus, I wouldn't have to wake Lulu from her nap before she's finished. I already had to wake her up one time today so she could get around and come to the doctor with me. Poor sleepy kiddo. But HG is most probably going to have to leave work early tomorrow and take Pete to swimming because I am 98% certain that I won't be up for driving tomorrow, and I don't want to take advantage of him. But I am tempted...

For Pete from Moomie

In Charlotte a young lady lived
Who perfomed for the Piano Guild
She played song after song
(and some were quite long)
And all of the people were thrilled.

Suspicions Confirmed: She's Brilliant!

Get this, Pete got her Guild audition report card at her lesson yesterday, and she got a Superior+ rating. I'm pretty sure that's the highest rating they give. The way they grade is this: they give C's for "Special Commendation," meaning that you've done that thing particularly well and A's for things that "Need Attention" and leave a skill blank if you do what you're supposed to be able to do at your level, no more and no less. So a person would expect to get all blanks, at least, but it's a big deal to get a few C's and it's a Really Big Deal to get 23, especially when you only get 1 A! Pete hasn't even been taking lessons for a whole year yet, and she's only 6, and this was her first audition (Guild) and she chose (she chose) to do a full audition of 10 pieces. Ear training, transposing, and sight reading count at 1 piece each. She got C's for each of those, and her sight reading "was perfect!" which I suspected. She's marching around now all proud of herself, as she should be, and Husbandguy brought home McDonald's for dinner because that's what she wanted.

And I a little bit wish I did the Guild audition this year too.