It's been sitting out there for months, the poor thing.
In our back lane.
We walk past it every day on the way to school and I almost cry for it.
I have a piano.
I had piano lessons between the ages of 8 and 17.
I love to play.
My piano was given to my Grandma for her 21st birthday.
I remember 'playing' it when we were very small at Grandma's house.
It was moved to our family home when my brother and I began piano lessons.
The piano was a revered piece of furniture.
We were taught to respect the piano.
Nothing was to sit on it other than treasured photos.
We were not to scratch it, bang it or treat it roughly.
The piano was almost sacred.
So to see one sitting out in the weather is sacrilege to me.
I must admit that my poor piano is not treated with quite the same care that it had in my childhood home.
It is used as a dumping ground, as are most flat surfaces in this house.
It does have nasty scratches and hasn't been tuned for years.
But I still love it.
I still love to play.
Unfortunately I suffer from extreme stage fright so I don't play for anyone else, just me (and my family).
This is my piano...
One day I would love to own one of these...
But, you know, that's in my wildest dreams.
Do you have a piano?
Or a treasured piece of furniture?
