L'accordéoniste

I want to tell you all about my awesome weekend.

Because, well, it was awesome. (Hint: It involves a peacock mafia.)

I'd also love to do the dishes that are scattered around my kitchen, make a test batch of marshmallows, and work on the various Christmas projects I have going.

But I can't. Because I have to practice the accordion.

It's that time of year again - when I have my students (the speech class, in this case) do the Take-a-Risk Goal Project.

I am, of course, completing a goal right alongside them. And the risk I decided to take was to commit to learning to play a song on the accordion. It's a major and very scary risk because there's no way in cuss that I have time right now to learn a cuss song on the accordion (yes, my weekend also involved seeing Fantastic Mr. Fox. It's also awesome).

And so, I delay my weekend's story, my dishes, my marshmallows, and my projects. And I pick up the accordion and play.

Be grateful you can't hear me.


P.S. I received a large, long mysterious package in the mail today with no note or indication of who it is from. I also love it. Or, I should say, them. If it was you who sent it, will you please let me know so I can thank you properly? And I'm sorry I opened it before Christmas, but I was looking for a note and discovered the unwrapped present instead.