Sweet bean gave us his smile four hours earlier than usual this morning. 3:00 AM hailed the awakening of our little rascal, who cannot sleep when there are mommas to be climbed and poppas to be tickled and boomers to be tugged. Bean is practicing his standing and can hardly stop himself. Indeed he practices in his sleep! I blearily eye him crouching and alongside me in the wee hours of the morning, his eyes still shut. He’s dedicated to his art.
Speaking of which, I travel to play a piano tomorrow. It may be my piano, if all checks out. My brother who knows everything (really, he does, he’s spectacular that way) pointed me to The Piano Book by Larry Fine; with this I will not only play the maybe-mine piano, I will dissect it. I will take it apart, ascertain the health of its guts, and do my best to put it back together again. And, I will do it with an air of unquestionable confidence; without that armor, I’d never be allowed my examinings. Time to put that stage-experience to use; I’m downright scared even thinking about handling a piano so.
But I’ll not buy it blind. Resources are too precious to waste on bunked instruments or an expert’s judgement. So, tomorrow, I pretend.