One afternoon a week we would walk in single file to Mrs Brady's room. We had to walk down a thin corridor with windows either side and it felt like a tunnel into another world, one of fun and music, of Mrs Brady's piano and her pink flannel tracksuit and the battered glockenspiels she sometimes let us bang away on. Mrs Brady sung everything she spoke in a lovely high voice like an old lady in church: "Are you reaaaddddyyy... And, one two threeeeee..."
We all saw her as a bit of a joke when it came to our primary education but she didn't seem to mind.
Once we all queued in front of her piano and took turns to find middle C. "If you can find middle C you can work out where all the other keys are on the keyboard," she told us.
I found it easily. Other kids would stick out a finger and plonk it at random on a key somewhere near the middle of the keyboard and Mrs Brady would sing, "Not quite, try agaaaiiinnnn..."
She got old and had to retire. There was a rumour going round that she had popped her clogs and was trapped inside the old Triangle of Silence for good, but I saw her coming out of Budgens once - I knew it was her from the pink flannel tracksuit - so I know that's not true. Brady will never die.
Next time I see her I might tell her I can't find middle C anymore. She'll be surprised: "But you were so musical! All those keyboard lessons!"
I'll explain that's not what I meant; I meant I've lost that certain point in life from which everything else makes sense - the key you hit and it allows you to stumble around something that vaguely resembles a tune. "I'm all out of tune, Miss," I'll say.
Do you reckon she'll understand?
We all saw her as a bit of a joke when it came to our primary education but she didn't seem to mind.
Once we all queued in front of her piano and took turns to find middle C. "If you can find middle C you can work out where all the other keys are on the keyboard," she told us.
I found it easily. Other kids would stick out a finger and plonk it at random on a key somewhere near the middle of the keyboard and Mrs Brady would sing, "Not quite, try agaaaiiinnnn..."
She got old and had to retire. There was a rumour going round that she had popped her clogs and was trapped inside the old Triangle of Silence for good, but I saw her coming out of Budgens once - I knew it was her from the pink flannel tracksuit - so I know that's not true. Brady will never die.
Next time I see her I might tell her I can't find middle C anymore. She'll be surprised: "But you were so musical! All those keyboard lessons!"
I'll explain that's not what I meant; I meant I've lost that certain point in life from which everything else makes sense - the key you hit and it allows you to stumble around something that vaguely resembles a tune. "I'm all out of tune, Miss," I'll say.
Do you reckon she'll understand?
2 comments:
If Mrs. Brady is a smart woman which I think she is, then I'm sure she'll understand.
By the way, I like your blog's new look. Nice banner.
Thanks! The banner's one of my favourite pictures we took on holiday a few years ago. The couple at the top annoy me though. I wish they weren't there so it would just be me alone on an empty beach.
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