An Ell, a Vee, and Three Eyes

I looked at my hands recently and drew back in horror - ack! These are my mother's hands! Old hands. Veiny. Couple of dark spots. My eight-year-old hands learned scales and arpeggios from Mrs. Vivian Fanning of Belfield Drive in Johnston, Rhode Island. Thirty minutes each day at our Janssen console piano. When we moved, my lessons continued with Mrs. Hattie Bowser of East Greenwich, who allowed me to learn pop songs from sheet music (although she nixed 'Peaceful, Easy Feeling' after reading the lyric 'I want to sleep with you in the desert tonight.'). Well, I was only 13. Back to Mozart.These hands now play a different keyboard. Fingers tap on keys. Letters create words. Words are strung together into sentences and phrases. Phrases become stories, and are turned into books.My 58-year-old hands will continue to tap out stories as long as they can. Veins and dark spots and all.