Such a fun day. We started out early going to the home of a local woman who had been a piano accompanist for many local music students. She accompanied our son and his cello several times. I am unsure if she died or has retired to a nursing care facility, but her home was filled with treasures - violins and bows and sheet music.
Dean and I wandered the various floors. He rejected the maidenhair fern I wanted, but settled on a 100 year old parlor guitar which he bought for our son. It was cracked and he bargained them down from $250 to $100 - quite a steal for something which we found was probably used to play blues in NYC clubs and maybe worth somewhere three times that price. Me - I bought an old fiddle for $60 bucks and then found the purple chair from Ikea. $20 slightly faded, but so comfortable. Dean was appalled. "Not that," he said, but I insisted. It was so light. It now sits in my office where the parents of my clients gravitate toward it immediately and settle in for magazine reading.
I can imagine Anita, as was her name, reading in a soft evening light or looking over a piano concerto. I like that her spirit remains with me. The most precious object of all was the enamel folding card table I found in the other bedroom all spattered with paint. In addition to be a great musician maybe she dabbled in paints. Dean drew the line - "No that's junk." But it now sits in our basement as a perfect place to dry all the flowers I hope to dye with. Thank you Anita...
Dean and I wandered the various floors. He rejected the maidenhair fern I wanted, but settled on a 100 year old parlor guitar which he bought for our son. It was cracked and he bargained them down from $250 to $100 - quite a steal for something which we found was probably used to play blues in NYC clubs and maybe worth somewhere three times that price. Me - I bought an old fiddle for $60 bucks and then found the purple chair from Ikea. $20 slightly faded, but so comfortable. Dean was appalled. "Not that," he said, but I insisted. It was so light. It now sits in my office where the parents of my clients gravitate toward it immediately and settle in for magazine reading.
I can imagine Anita, as was her name, reading in a soft evening light or looking over a piano concerto. I like that her spirit remains with me. The most precious object of all was the enamel folding card table I found in the other bedroom all spattered with paint. In addition to be a great musician maybe she dabbled in paints. Dean drew the line - "No that's junk." But it now sits in our basement as a perfect place to dry all the flowers I hope to dye with. Thank you Anita...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please tell me what good thing you encountered today.