My Prrrrecious . . .

As Gollum is wont to worship the Ring, I have hoarded an adulation in secret for far too long . . . A piano of my own.

During our 4 years in Egypt, I spent the first year tracking down pianos to rent. At the turning of one year, I found a Piano Guy. The adventures that ensued were painful and arduous, and will be given full justice in retelling, but that's for another day. The purpose of today's tale is the acquisition. I obtained my piano and there it resided in my living room for the next 3 years. Egypt time came to a close and the music maker was returned to Piano Guy.

We returned to the States and I have been in withdrawals. Not that I consider myself a concert pianist. I don't play that well. I took lessons all through my childhood, but quit at the age of 11.In retrospect (as all past experiences are viewed) that was not a very smart choice on my part. Don't worry, I have a little version of myself turning 11 in a short year and a half, so not to worry about karma. I rediscovered the piano while I was studying in Spain my senior year of high school. It became my escape and I retaught myself many things. Though I don't think I've regained my former glory. Für Elise will never be topped nor will it ever be lived down. Ever.

Moving on to college, I was grateful for the pianos in the dorm basement. I spent many a happy hour, twinkling away my worries on those delicate ivories. The rest of the building is probably thankful for the soundproofing in that studio. Once I got married, we inherited a wonderful digital keyboard from my sister-in-law, Callie. We still have it. I would pull it out occasionally, but it was usually kept out of reach from the sticky fingers of my offspring.

Coming full round again, I have managed to keep a piano in my peripheral most of my life. But never have I owned one all my own. Which comes to the purpose of this story, how to get a piano. I was listening to the radio the other day and kept hearing advertisements for a piano sale. The BYU-I music department has a sale every year. They have music labs and sell their pianos every year. Nice. So I figured out where said sale was (it was not easy to find) and wandered in with Jacqui in tow. I plunked on a couple keys and drooled over the black, glossy baby grands. Even though I knew my reality would be a digital piano. I'm not the biggest fan of keyboards, but let's be realistic. What with all of our gallivanting around the globe, it's not that easy to lug a +1000 lb object to each residence. That and the challenge of finding someone to tune it each time we move. And periodic tunings in country.

Digital keyboard have made great leaps and bounds past their ancestors. The biggest hurdle I faced when trying to convince myself that a keyboard was the real thing was the feedback in my fingers. Also, . . . . . wait, I'm boring you, aren't I? The main point is, I'm now pleased with the advances of digital pianos. Enough so that I took the plunge. I bought a Kawai CP117. (another statistic you don't care about either, huh?) Basically, it's a freakin' sweet piano!!! That I bought for a song! And a little dance if you count Jacqui's meltdown in the middle of the showroom! I was having a bit of buyer's remorse for the rest of the day. Rethinking to myself, "I don't remember playing EVERY key. Do they all work? And I didn't try out EVERY function! What if . . . ?" Then it was delivered. All uncertainty melted away. I sat down and played to my heart's content. I played a song for my babies before bed. I got up when I couldn't sleep and played MY piano. My. Piano.