Z’s ivories are tickled

I needed to print something, which worked, and then needed to scan something a few minutes later. Although the pages I’d printed didn’t use colour, the yellow toner had run out. Scanning to the computer didn’t involve printing anything of course but, all the same, the scanner wouldn’t work until I’d replaced the toner cartridge. Fortunately, I had one. Honestly, it’s no wonder I drink.

My piano was tuned this afternoon. The tuner and I have been friends for a long time and we chatted about people we both know and exchanged a few anecdotes of a musical nature – mostly, that is. One involved winter underpants and another involved bread and jam, but neither is for general distribution. It turned out that he first came to tune my mother’s pianola (the same one he was working on today) in 1973. I’ve known him all his working life, she must have been one of his first customers. We know that because he remembers me getting married, and that was the year.

I’m off to London again tomorrow. My meeting is at 2.30 in Islington, so I will probably get the 4 o’clock train home again, because I don’t expect it’ll take more than half an hour. If it overruns and I don’t make it, my off-peak ticket won’t be valid until 7 o’clock, so I’ll have to amuse myself for a few hours. But that’s never difficult to do in London. I can’t make plans with friends though, in case I do make the earlier train. But we’d probably only prop up a bar somewhere, so it’s just as well.

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