Do Re Mi

I have heard it from enough people now that I believe it is an empirically proven fact: Moms who play the piano should not actually TEACH their children to play the piano. 

Ugh. I took great pride in the fact that this could not be true for me at least....that I could certainly save our family a lot of running around and a lot of money by simply teaching my children the "Good Boys Do Fine Always" rules. And the rests. And the half notes. And the scales. 

Apparently, in this case, as in many others, I do not rise above the rules and laws of nature. I get much too distracted during their practice times when I hear a wrong note. It is much too difficult to NOT stop and correct said note. I'm sure my mother never struggled with this. After all, she just listened to me practice, blissfully unaware of what things should have been sharped and which should have been flatted. To this day, she swears she loved to hear me practice. 

There was a bit of poetic justice recently when, upon hearing me bang out some old Baptist offertory arrangements on my parents' piano (fyi the Baptists like their songs loud and full of arpeggios and glissandos...more amens that way) my youngest son commented..."Wow. I didn't know my mom could play the piano so good." 

Amen, brother. Amen. Now go practice your scales. And I'll ignore that missed note. Just this once. 

Dear Publix

Dear Publix,

I need to apologize to you. Because...oh....lo these many years I have taken you for granted. Your clean, brightly-lit wide aisles. Your ability to stock when customers are NOT in the store. Your always possessing such apparently exotic items such as sour cream. And popcorn. Your paper-or-plastic bags for which I did not have to pay. Your carrying my groceries to my car WITHOUT asking for money. Your free bagging. Your pleasantries...hello, goodbye, have a nice day.


Oh dear, sweet Publix. I will never take you for granted again. And while I acknowledge that yes, my Bodegona (aka grocery store) is far better than it was a few years ago..from what I hear, people needed to wear closed-toe shoes in the past in order to avoid feeling the rats running across their feet....I miss your generic ice-cream that rivaled Breyer's and Edy's. And I miss the helpful workers in the ugly green vests. And I miss the free balloons and cookies. Oh. Yeah. That was for my kids. I digress....

To sum up: while I miss shopping at the place where I never truly appreciated that "shopping is a pleasure," I will choose to be grateful today that my dear old Bode DID have sour cream....and DID have the eggnog that my teenage son requested....and that I DID have everything I needed to make a nutritious dinner for my family.


But next time I'm back in Florida.....Publix Moose Tracks Premium Ice Cream is at the top of my list. And I'll take it in a plastic bag. Just because I can.