The kids have been back for in-person piano lessons since the summer, and I have found it comforting to be back in the studio sitting room, where we’ve been bringing the kids since Edwin was just shy of four.
Elaine’s melodic counting as she works one-on-one with students, the rhythmic drumming of the other students’ fingers on electric keyboards as they listen with headphones, the harmony as they all join together, and the music floating down from the private lesson above all work together to lull me back into a sense of normalcy.
Now, I love Elaine with all my heart. She has been an incredible piano teacher all these years and will only cancel a lesson if snowfall accumulates more than a few feet (for real). But…she has a penchant for those horrible Glade plug-ins. Over the years, some parents have expressed mild displeasure at them, one sent her an article about the possible harm of them, and others of us passive-aggressively unplug them.
Here I am surrounded by a sickly sweet, chemically-engineered pumpkin spice aroma, and I can’t figure out where she’s hidden the darn thing. And she’s been keeping the studio door open to the sitting room for air flow, so she’ll see me if I hunt in earnest.
These cloying aromas I have not missed so much.
My Corner of the Village 