Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Hydrangea Ideas

While waiting for the bus in Gouda, I listened to someone practice the piano, old fashioned pieces and  not badly played. I inspected the hydrangeas next to the bus stop, and all the other foliage in full summer bloom. A retired person was exercising their free time and motor skills. It was a day off from sitting in the office. I had just finished a long rehearsal and, before returning to Amsterdam, was heading to the not Amsterdam prices thrift store to look at skirts. Solid color skirts, the kind to which I am rarely attracted.  I stood at the bus stop looking at the collage of greens, whites, purples and pinks in the abundant vegetation and reminded myself, “Sensible one colored skirts, missy.”

“You’re off for something un-Bohemian then?”

My office colleagues know about my arty side but still...I get more compliments when I am dressed a bit more reserved. My summer wardrobe is a little sparse. Three Bohemian kaleidoscope skirts from which two don’t fit well.

“Do you know of a grand piano I can practice on?”

As it happens I have one in storage. I am looking for a place to put it. There are a number of hypothetical options and a great deal of fantasy. Mine mainly.  I would also like to have more time to practice again. Hey, I said to the pianist, you find me a place to put the piano and you can practice on it.

“The house,” I was told about my house in Gouda that sold last month, “was bought for a contrabassist student. She wanted to take over the mirror because she needs to practice in front of it.” The mirror is immense and I couldn’t move it easily any place for storage.  “So the house will still be used by a musician.” This was launched at me in triumph. The topics of the house, the mirror and the piano had all been battle axes in my marriage.

Can you hear my heart breaking?  While I am in a manner pleased about the house passing on to another musician, I am also watching the final part of the total destruction of my former life.  It’s not dying of hunger, or a third world problem, but it’s a little bit of my soul that is drowning in unhappiness, the part that kept treading water for so long hoping to reach land.

I think I need to go eat some salt for buoyancy and move on.

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