the music...

The other day Jack mashed his thumb in gym at school. Dancing. Actually, it's a nasty sprain that has doubled the size and added some interesting color variations to the skin of his right thumb. So he hasn't been able to practise the piano for the past few days. We miss the rousing renditions he normally provides us of an ever growing list of hymns, while we are getting ready for school in the mornings! :( He has been advised by his parents that he may quit studying piano when he can play the hymnbook, and he isn't wasting any time.) His sisters, however, continue to practise away, and I love listening to their music. So tonight I am grateful for my Grandpa who funded the piano we received as children, and parents who funded the lessons... And for the insanity that drives me to teach my own children to play. I am the only person I know who does this, and for good reason. Living with one's piano teacher, day in and day out... practise in and practise out, requires alot of patience and grace, to put it mildly. But it also frees up our schedule, granting us alot of flexibility when it comes to lesson times and lengths. And gives me the sweet satisfaction of knowing I can give Jack and Mary and Emma something valuable, even though I am just their mother.

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