The Plastic Frog and the Ivory Keys

After all the pleasant business of the last few weeks, the house has been quieter. No wonder the piano has been singing more, recently.

I just love how many people come and tinker around on the piano in the front room. First, I have two young students this summer. It's fun to have something to plan and prepare for, and even more fun to watch them progress. Then I, myself, am still playing around. Two weeks ago I finally played all the way through Clair de Lune, sight-reading the last two pages. It wasn't pretty, but it was exciting--it's a little thrilling, to be learning a real and challenging piece on my own, no teacher involved.

(Okay, tell me that isn't adorable, blurry photo and all...)

Cambrie has also learned a certain degree of patience regarding my piano practice. On a good day, I'll let her pick out a game ("A-Fog! Gim!" [Frog Game!]) and she'll sit in the living room and play while I run through a piece or two. That's about as long as she lasts, though. She's good about waiting until I've stopped playing (even if it's just to turn a page); then, with all her little girl charm, she'll sweetly ask, "A-Mommy play gim a-wit me?"

Of course, who wouldn't melt at that! "Aw, you want me to play the frog game with you?" "Yeah, sure!"

So I'll slide off the bench and scoot to where she sits, prepping myself for some real, genuine bonding time. That is, until she leaves me, hands full of brightly colored flies, so she can run to the piano bench.

"Cambrie, don't  you want to play the game with me?"

"A-Keemah play pano. A-Mommy play gim." Silly me. Of course it's Cambrie's (Keemah's) turn to make music while mommy tries to flick plastic flies into a frog's mouth.

If ever a plastic frog could look forlorn, then this one certainly is after being abandoned by its playmate.

When Cambrie and I aren't tickling the ivories, the house could just as easily be filled with music. Both Patrick and his grandma are taking lessons as well. It's commonplace to come home at 9:30 PM and hear Grandma playing her scales or "When the Saints Go Marching In." I am amazed at her dedication; a few weeks ago she tripped and fell in the garden, breaking her fall with her left hand. She broke her wrist. Would you believe she still wanted (one-handed) piano lessons each week? I feel very lucky to have a piano student that devoted to learning.

Patrick, my last student, has really been progressing quickly. He's never played piano before, though he has a basic music background and played percussion in high school. His familiarity with rhythms and his eagerness to learn have really shot him forward. My favorite part is assigning him pieces out of the books I used to play in, including the book with my very first recital piece. He, like his grandma, has a very sincere dedication that astounds me. I guess it's a little different when you're older and have that "I wish I'd done this sooner" mentality.

In any case, it's fun to be surrounded by music. It makes the day brighter and the house warmer. Now all I need to do is start getting ready for the Summer Recital next week (of course, more on that later...).