Piano climbing starts in big steps

When my son Richard was a baby, you could not take your eyes off him: twice, I walked out of the room, walked back in just enough time later to have put the laundry basket down in a bedroom and come back to find him on top of the piano, or, the second time, when I’d learned to move a little faster, standing on the keyboard and nearly there.

This was before he learned to walk.

This was also the kid who would later be minoring in organ performance (that’s the Mormon Tabernacle organ in Salt Lake City, but sorry, no Tabby Choir accompaniment.)

Parker, meantime, is climbing the stairway to some haven up there he’s aiming for. When he gets there, he knows, if the doors are all closed, with a fuss he can get what he came there for. (The going up is easy, it’s always the going down part that takes some serious learning.)

And I just finished the third Christmas project. It amazes me forever and always how working on one project will spark new ideas for the next several, creating a momentum as well as some really nifty knits. I wish I could brag and show them off.