There is a sign hanging beside my piano. It says “Don’t shoot the piano player. She’s doing the best she can. ” Buck calls the black Yamaha “Twitchy Baby’s motorsiccle piano.”
One side of this room is filled with sliding glass doors; the other side with book shelves and a fireplace.
It’s been about seven years since I pulled all our books off shelves, thought about some type of cataloging system, and ended up just handling them fondly and putting them in boxes, as I did again today. In seven years, quite a few additions have been made to the various shelves all over the house.
The folks buying our house want to close the sale and move in three weeks earlier than planned. We’ll try to make it happen, but there are a lot of little tea cups to wrap. Forgive me for a singular lack of creative spark tonight. It’s been a long day, and I’m going to go cuddle with my man and my big dog.
Weather reports from Pensacola have been good while we have been gone, with much needed rain falling on the baby trees. We plan to return to Pensacola for about ten days this Sunday; then will drive back up here to finish packing.