There’s a peculiar thing about playing an instrument – it’s seems to be hard to stop at owning just one. I started off with a single tin whistle, bought so I could go to a night class and dabble in learning to play. My first fiddle came to me by chance when friends was clearing out their basement. I come from a family with no discernible track record with music, so it was a surprise to everyone when the fiddle started a whole new musical chapter in my life.
Since then I’ve accumulated a guitar, various percussion instruments, and more whistles and fiddles than I care to count.
I’ve just had a more unusual addition to my growing collection. My mom brought an old wooden piccolo to me this week, which had been found amongst my aunt’s possessions after she died. I find it hard to imagine that she might have played it, and am left wondering how she came to have it.
Thanks Isobel for suggesting the photo title!
