The Prodigal Comes Home
Two years ago, we moved from the farm. One of the things we stored there was my piano. My in-laws have had it ever since. I doubt that any of us thought that it would be 25 months before it got moved. Of course there are many reasons why it didn't happen. For the first several months, the living room at The Pokeaway went from this:
to this:
and then when it looked more like itself,
there were still so many things to deal with, that moving the piano was put on the back burner.
We had many discussions during those months when it would be the right time to move it back home. But it never seemed to work.
Sometimes it was because the trailer was full of other stuff and the process to get it cleared out was too overwhelming. Sometimes it was raining. Sometimes we didn't have the man power. Then we thought maybe we should wait until the floors were refinished.
Plus, I am a little protective of this piano. It was put into my care when the owner, who was a dear friend of mine, died. The deal was that I should hold onto it until her niece was old enough to bring it to a permanent home. That was 20 years ago. In those 20 years, we have moved it at least six times - not always with the best results. I wanted to be sure that the stars were aligned just right before we brought it over to The Pokeaway.
In recent months though, I have really missed having a piano at my fingertips (so to speak). There's nothing I like better than sitting down and tinkering away on the keys - playing favourites, making my own music and learning new pieces. It is very therapeutic. During Christmas preparations especially, I found myself longing for the chance to try out the new books I bought - I did go through them at work, but it just wasn't the same.
So when I found out that my husband had decided to bring the piano over as a Christmas surprise, I was overjoyed. Every day during the holidays, we looked for the right space and time. Some days were dry and would have been good moving days, but there were other factors missing - like man power, or energy [my husband enjoyed poor health over Christmas as well, just as an added bonus], or a trailer, and so on....
But on New Year's Day, the weather was good enough to give it a go. The boys were around and willing to give a hand. The trailer was up and running [with a small glitch that the lights didn't work, but I travelled close behind like those escort or flag vehicles], and my husband felt well enough to make it happen.
Because of former history, I remained nervous until 5 km from home. Then I relaxed into the knowledge that soon I would be able to sit down and play whenever my little heart desired [provided I wasn't interrupting an important TV show - it shares the space with the entertainment center]. If you were within 100 miles of our place on New Year's Day, I am sure you saw a bright light emanating from the back porch when the boys transferred the piano to the back deck and rolled it through to the living room. That was my smile.
WELCOME HOME, LITTLE PIANO, WELCOME HOME!
to this:
and then when it looked more like itself,
We had many discussions during those months when it would be the right time to move it back home. But it never seemed to work.
Sometimes it was because the trailer was full of other stuff and the process to get it cleared out was too overwhelming. Sometimes it was raining. Sometimes we didn't have the man power. Then we thought maybe we should wait until the floors were refinished.
Plus, I am a little protective of this piano. It was put into my care when the owner, who was a dear friend of mine, died. The deal was that I should hold onto it until her niece was old enough to bring it to a permanent home. That was 20 years ago. In those 20 years, we have moved it at least six times - not always with the best results. I wanted to be sure that the stars were aligned just right before we brought it over to The Pokeaway.
In recent months though, I have really missed having a piano at my fingertips (so to speak). There's nothing I like better than sitting down and tinkering away on the keys - playing favourites, making my own music and learning new pieces. It is very therapeutic. During Christmas preparations especially, I found myself longing for the chance to try out the new books I bought - I did go through them at work, but it just wasn't the same.
So when I found out that my husband had decided to bring the piano over as a Christmas surprise, I was overjoyed. Every day during the holidays, we looked for the right space and time. Some days were dry and would have been good moving days, but there were other factors missing - like man power, or energy [my husband enjoyed poor health over Christmas as well, just as an added bonus], or a trailer, and so on....
But on New Year's Day, the weather was good enough to give it a go. The boys were around and willing to give a hand. The trailer was up and running [with a small glitch that the lights didn't work, but I travelled close behind like those escort or flag vehicles], and my husband felt well enough to make it happen.
Because of former history, I remained nervous until 5 km from home. Then I relaxed into the knowledge that soon I would be able to sit down and play whenever my little heart desired [provided I wasn't interrupting an important TV show - it shares the space with the entertainment center]. If you were within 100 miles of our place on New Year's Day, I am sure you saw a bright light emanating from the back porch when the boys transferred the piano to the back deck and rolled it through to the living room. That was my smile. 
WELCOME HOME, LITTLE PIANO, WELCOME HOME!
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