Independent fingering

I love it when pillow talk, after thirteen years of marriage, is snugly, smiley and a chuckle. Reviewing key aspects of the day, noting issues, both laughing over the same things, sharing hopes and expressing gratefulness for each other. Today, son's birth father is coming to visit him for the first time in four years and will be staying for the weekend. Mr Doris is delightful and enabling about such matters. I just find it odd when the Ex is around and I find it even more odd when he does not appear in the least bit curious to see his son during these vital growing up years.Thank goodness for Mr Doris, the best dad my son could have ever had.

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Piano lesson yesterday revealed that my fingers do not all work. Or rather, are lazy and I've gotten used to not using them. I have at times in my life had typing as a large part of my professional work and yet I very adequately type with only my thumbs and first two fingers of both hands. Seems my piano playing wants to do the same thing, which is a little difficult when ten fingers are not always enough so one has to use them all and my pinkies keep wanting to fly up like I am holding the finest bone china tea cup in elegant company. Apparently I am not to stress over it and just exercise them a little each day, getting them to all work independently.

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Yesterday evening in the cold, sleet and dark, my sister and I attended a candlelight ceremony at the local cemetery to remember those that have died this year or in recent times. My niece sang in the choir, a brass band played and there was a tree of lights switched on. It could have been a beautiful ceremony except there were too many thank you speeches for organising the event, not enough gravitas and it was just too cold and uncomfortable. How on earth the brass band coped with frozen fingers and lips I just do not know. It still seems strange that our mother is gone and that it is already eighteen months since she passed.