originally posted November 24, 2009
The fall of my second grade year I started taking piano lessons.
I'm not sure whose idea it was, Mama's or mine, but somewhere along the way our family acquired an ancient monster of a piano and I began taking lessons.
My teacher was Miss Hower, an old spinster who lived in a small, neat home in Hagerstown.
Miss Hower was exactly like one would picture an old spinster woman. She was a tiny lady, always perfectly dressed in her fancy old-lady style... dark flowery-print dresses, lace collars, brooches, nylon hose and shoes. Her hair adorned with fancy antique clips swept neatly into a bun at the back of her neck, Miss Hower always smelled of the lavender perfume that old ladies are so fond of. She wore wire-rimmed spectacles halfway down her tiny wrinkled nose, with one of those librarian chains that held them like a necklace when she took them off.