Ticklin' The Ivories...

Today, I decided to tackle a major cleanin' upstairs in our ol' farmhouse.

As I was goin' through boxes and boxes of papers, I came across my very first piano lesson book. Tucked inside were a few of my piano recital programs.

I took lessons for about 3 years back when I was a young'un. My teacher, Miss Waller had to be 110 years old back then. She could be as mean as a hornet which was probably why she was never a "Mrs."

She was always slappin' my hands tellin' me to "Keep your wrists up!" and she would literally cringe if I hit the wrong key. So when I played, most of the time she looked like she was havin' a fit.
Since I never remembered which pedals to use; I would get "happy feet" (like Steve Martin) and use them all. Man, I drove the poor woman crazy. My Tuesday afternoon hour long piano lesson seemed like an eternity. (For the both of us I'm sure)

I think mama had visions of me playin' Chopin's "Minute Waltz" at Carnegie Hall. But I was thinkin' more along the lines of "Chopsticks" at the local B.P.O.E. (Neither one happened)

Every week Miss Waller would ask me if I practiced my lesson and every week my reaction was the same...

I may have not been able to play the Minute Waltz; but by the looks of that gold star in my piano book, I could play "Vacation Time" like nobody's business.
:> )