The usual meaning for the term “keyboard warriors” is those angry trolls who make sure social media is always stirred up with arguments and untruths. For our purposes, though – and during Teach Music Week – we’ll look at the keyboards that tie our family together. Piano keyboards. Dad remembers taking piano lessons when his family lived in Lowell in the early 1940s. He was ten or 11 and would walk just a few blocks to get to Mrs. Salmonson’s…
Dad stopped in his tracks, inhaled deeply, smiled, and declared: It smells like Mom! No, I didn’t sneak a spritz from the perfume bottle that still sits on her dresser. And I didn’t raid their bathroom cabinet for shampoo or lotion. Even better. Gary and I had a pot roast simmering in the slow cooker. I wish I’d taken a photo of the finished product. But then again, pot roast is not known for its photogenic qualities. Sidenote: If you…
My parents are nature lovers. (For a reason I don’t recall, this moniker was often pronounced “nay-CHOO love-OOS” over the years.) My two older brothers even went to “nature camp” back in grade school. Indeed, they each won a free week at Nature Camp for scoring highly on tests given following Saturday morning nay-choo films at the local museum in Pittsfield. I went just once. Sacrificing Saturday morning cartoons for a chance at nature camp just wasn’t worth it to…