Tuesday, November 27, 2012
I started off early on a Sunday morning walk and I turned right instead of left. Being a creature of habit, I always turn left on my neighborhood walks. That morning something pulled me to the right and what a delightful change of pace and walk of discovery it turned out to be.
I found myself walking down one of my favorite streets in town. It is in a well-established neighborhood and nearly every home is unique and charming. The flower gardens were put away until Spring, and all of the yards were neat and tidy.
Englewood Forest. In our back yard we have a huge, beautiful cedar tree that is part of this old forest. The park has paths covered with fallen pine needles and the scent of the pine trees lining the path was intoxicating. The grey squirrels appeared to be on hyperdrive as they scampered up and down the trees getting ready for the cold weather ahead.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
As I had to work all day today and then come home and bake a pie, I don't have the energy to post a recipe. But I will post this wonderful pie crust recipe very soon. My pumpkin pie filling was courtesy of the back of the Libby's pumpkin can. My mother always made her pumpkin pies using this recipe and it was always a hit growing up. Tried and True. That's the motto of the day.
P.S. I hate pumpkin pie. Happy Thanksgiving to you all.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
I have two pianos in my home. The first one, pictured above, is an antique inherited from my two English great aunties who resided in Vancouver, B.C. This piano was made in England by a London company, Chappell and Company. Amazingly the company is still in existence today and located at the same address as is listed on my piano. Using the serial numbers found inside the piano, I was able to e-mail the company and found that the piano was built between 1880-1890.
My sister Linda at the piano at the great aunties house
The piano is my first musical love. Though I spent many more years playing the flute, I first learned to appreciate and play music on the piano. As a very young girl, I would listen to my mother playing magnificently moving pieces by Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, and Chopin. I was in awe of her talent. Her music books were a mystery to me, with page after page filled with lines of black notes I didn't understand.
I soon began taking piano lessons given by Sister Amy, a quiet, serious nun at the church we attended. She gently taught me to read music and play songs and I have fond memories of her. These memories come to a screeching halt with recollections of the recitals that were inevitable. Being a shy, introverted child, it was more than I could cope with, so the piano lessons came to an end. A year later in the fourth grade I started playing the flute and never looked back at the piano. Until I brought home the estate sale find.
I know I will never play the piano like my mother, but I have returned to my first musical love and hope to continue tickling the ivories for years to come.