After the terror and adrenaline of yesterday's mug incident, I needed something calmer to do today.  Now, I have a piano.  I have had this piano since I was small(er) and my granddad used to listen to me practise whilst calling out jokes about my playing.  I got Grade 1 and everything.

I know, I know.  You all need a minute to get over the awe at that one.

In the main, what I remember about piano lessons is that my teacher had a three-legged dog.  And a grand piano in a musty, spacious room which had the sort of doors onto the garden which I always imagined on the houses in Austen's books, all squares of glass and white, wooden frames.  As far as piano itself goes, I remember the scale of C Major.

Well done, me.

Tonight, I took out a book about learning the piano and relearnt C Major (are you even meant to capitalise that?  Liz?  You know piano.), as well as learning F Major (going with a capital letter until I'm told otherwise - it is important to be consistent.), G Major and D Major.

Of course, given we have not retuned the piano in years, I still have no idea what they supposed to sound like, but I do know the patterns my fingers should make.

It was oddly soothing, even with the jarring notes and the head of a small black dog being inserted under my right palm.  Apparently, Pippin does not like the piano.  Either that, or Attic Mug has escaped and she was trying to warn me.

I think I will get someone round to tune the instrument and then it will only be about fifty years at my pace of music learning before I can play a few songs.

I am assuming they do sheet music for Fall Out Boy and Imagine Dragons.