The piano came with the house which came with the farm which came with my farmer when we married.
It was tuned regularly when played regularly but for the last few years it has been neither played regularly nor tuned.
As pianos that aren’t tuned are wont to do, it didn’t sound as good as it should and it was only when a visitor tried playing it a couple of weeks ago that I realised how bad it was.
I called a tuner and who came out from town today.
Three hours later the piano was back to concert pitch.
My mother told me I’d regret not continuing with musical lessons when I was a child and she’s right. But I learned, and have remembered, enough to play simple tunes when no-one else is close enough to be annoyed by it and I’ve been playing Christmas carols to myself this evening.
The pianist has more enthusiasm than talent but the piano can’t be faulted and I’m very grateful to the tuner for that.
My playing reminds me of the story of the child who came home from school and reported that the new teacher was a better pianist than her mother because the teacher could perform with only one hand.