snippets

It is late afternoon, and the sun is slanting through the west window. Somebody just pulled something absolutely tantalizing out of the oven, and somebody else is at the kitchen table, quietly writing a letter, and Mums is playing piano. It is the new piano, given to us by a kind Vermonter, and we are grateful. It has been used well and loved much in many homes before ours, and we are the next happy recipients of its warm tones. And Mums plays well. I could never grow tired of hearing her soft touch on those keys.