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    iStock_000002698155XSmallLast week, I mentioned that my broken-legged sister has been convalescing under my roof. What I didn’t tell you last week, but I’ll moan about today, is that there isn’t much to do in deepest Wiltshire when you’ve got broken hips.

    So, she decided to spend every day for the past few weeks playing the piano.

    Which is fine, I’m very happy for her, it’s a creative and fun way to pass the time.

    Only, I’ve been paying for lessons for three years now and in three weeks, Tam has shot past me in the impressive show-tunes stakes. It started with me teaching her the Entertainer. She congratulated me on my ability to read music – she’s more of an ear to the tune kind of girl. I felt smug because I knew my every-good-boy-deserves-fine-apples and she didn’t.

    Then she mastered Clair De Lune. As if it was a doddle. It’s not.

    I was feeling pretty miserable about my relationship with the piano after that.

    ‘You’re playing the long game,’ my sister assured me. ‘You are learning skill and craft and sight reading. I just wanted to learn one song I could show off at parties.’

    But I like showing off at parties too, damn it. And I can’t very well show off clunking my way through Somewhere Over The ruddy Rainbow while she belts out Clair De Lune. I wouldn’t get a round of applause, I’d get a sympathy clap.

    I shall persevere. She’s going abroad for six months so there is plenty of time for me to excel while she forgets everything she’s learned – yay me!

    After this week’s lesson, my teacher and I decided it was time I learned a Christmas tune, so that, by Christmas, I’d have something festive on my repertoire. You know, for showing off at parties.

    Teach sent me this list of possible tunes to learn:

    xmas songs 001

    I couldn’t decide. I’m not a decision maker, I’m a procrastinator. I ask other people to make decisions for me and then agree whole-heartedly with whatever they say. Call me weak if you want, I don’t care. Unless someone tells me I should.

    After much deliberation, which generally always boils down to me waiting for my husband to get home and then asking what he thinks I should do, I’m going with Little Drummer Boy.

    I really ought to stop using my husband as a crystal ball. Tonight, I’m going to make a decision for myself and I defy anyone who dares stop me. I’m going to… er… wait for it… BUY A NEW JUMPER WITHOUT ASKING ANY FRIENDS IF THEY LIKE IT FIRST.



    This is not me. It’s a Gap model in my new jumper.



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