the piano

Yesterday we were working at the church -- again.

When some one asks if I am retired, I say yes, that is I work but I don’t get paid for what I do. In fact I figured that if I got paid as a contractor for the work I had done on various church projects, I could buy a new Caddy with the cash.

But I digress.

I was grouting tile yesterday on the stage of the church. Miriam was with me and she sat down at the grand piano and began picking out a song.

Miriam is not really a piano player, but she enjoys sitting and playing a few hymns. This time I encouraged her to play more. I liked to hear it.

It reminded me of the old days when she would do just that. Sit at the piano and play a hymn that was buzzing in her head.

We don’t have a piano in the house anymore. I bought her a decent keyboard some years back, and she will play it on a rare occasion.

So, as I spread grout, I listened to my sweetheart, and old memories flooded my mind.

Did I say that grouting is quite physical, but has very low intellectual demands, and that my mind wanders?