Ode to Our Piano: Guess What?

(For Parts 1 and 2 see Ode to Our Piano and What Happened Next)

Okay, so where we? Oh yes, our beloved old piano moved house yesterday to take up residence with a family of six children.

Except…

Make a brew and pull up a pew, this could take a while, the old lady hasn’t quite finished her story yet…

Last night I went bed sad at waving goodbye to our friend of 33 years but consoling myself – as lots of you have reminded me – that she will be given lots of love and attention in her new environment. When I got up today, I peeked in the ‘piano’ room and my heart skipped a beat. It looks cavernous, not helped by the fact that the shelves and their contents have also been removed while the floor is replaced and the room decorated. But, that’s ok, it will be alright in the end. We can get on with it now that we don’t have to work out how to manage the piano in amongst all the upheaval.

We went about our day, ‘discussing’ paint for the better part of it – our daughter is coming this weekend to paint the garage too (she’s bored, poor thing, so we thought we’d find her something useful to do or she’ll start decluttering again and they barely have a seat to sit on after the last one!) HB wants Forest Green ie the same colour he always does it, I want Sage, but there’s a £33 difference in price so guess who wins – again! (I’m keeping my powder dry, cos there’s the ‘piano’ room to come, haha!)

Anyway, back to the story…HB was about to go and buy the paint when I could hear him talking on the phone and his tone was downbeat, then I heard him say ‘I’m very sorry to hear that, I’ll speak to you soon.’ My stomach lurched. Those words usually mean only one thing, but as I’d spoken to everyone in my family in the last 24 hours, I realised it could mean only one *other* thing: a problem with the piano. It doesn’t play. It broke in the transfer. The daughter doesn’t like it. It’s too old and ugly. The husband hates it, it takes up too much room.

He trudges up the stairs to where I am resting in anticipation of the onslaught of testosterone later today when my grandsons descend on us. I hear his sigh and prepare myself for the words that are sure to come out of his mouth…

It doesn’t fit.

Come again? IT DOESN’T FIT?!!!

It doesn’t fit.

WHY DIDN’T ANYONE THINK TO TAKE A TAPE MEASURE AND MAKE SURE IT WOULD FIT?!

(I am a little overwrought by now)

They had to put it in the lounge, not the room they’d planned on becoming *their* piano room, and the neighbours have complained! Already!

‘Would you like it back?!’

ARE YOU KIDDING?!

DID THEY NOT TELL YOU HOW HARD IT WAS TO GET IT OUT AND HOW MUCH PAINT WENT WITH IT??

(Stressed and Distressed don’t adequately describe my demeanour now)

DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW HARD IT WAS TO LET IT GO AND NOW YOU WANT US TO GO THROUGH IT ALL AGAIN?!

Ok, calm down, Chris. All is not lost. She is just making sure.

She understood that a second person had asked us about the piano after she had said she wanted it. Yes, yes, that’s right! The lady was so disappointed when we called her last night to confirm it had gone. Yes, we’ll give you her number. Oh, but, wait a second, we told her there was one being advertised in the local newsagent’s and she was going to check it out. We’ll phone her and see.

SHE STILL WANTS IT!

Oh, thank you, thank you…

She has two children who play saxophone and want to have piano lessons at school but don’t have an instrument to practise on. Plus, she also came round a few weeks ago to donate some garden gloves for our Garden Glove Love collection, so that’s reassuring, too.

There’s a tiny snag, just a small, teeny tiny one: her husband wasn’t keen the first time she came to ask, but she had cajoled him into agreeing. She would have to go through it all again.

And so we wait…

See Ode to Our Piano – Flowers & Phew! for the final installment!

Copyright: Chris McGowan