I recently picked back
up the recorder after dabbling in it briefly in fourth grade and
college. Interestingly, the experience is very different this time
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Sheet music lessons my
mother gave me when I was a kid suddenly click into place. (Well, some
of them.) I realize the recorder is the childhood instrument of choice
because running up from the bottom to the top is a scale starting at C
and ending at B.
And, on the negative
side, my cats remind me vocally that shrill noises aren't necessarily
pleasant on the ears. Here, Huckleberry is doing his best to cover up
my sheet music so I can't play. Strider is hiding under the trailer
waiting for the caterwauling to stop.