Practice

Practice

Practice makes perfect

I have heard many times.
Practice, practice.

Keep on trying.
My discipline for musical practice is totally lacking.

I am skilled at skipping to my favorite tunes on the CD
(or used to drop the needle on my favorite song on the vinyl discs of yore...)
In Jr High,
I played tuba adequately I believe. I had my Mom forge my practice schedule, not feeling the need.
Then I couldn’t ask my Mom to forge for me any more.
The instructor and I had a set too and he forced me to practice.
I didn't need to, I yelled, give me something challenging to play!
I was bored by the tedious Jr High music bass notes, repititous, no variation.
So I quit. The heavy brass instrument was not mine anymore. Somedays I regret
not toughing it out, practicing more, and keep on trying.
If only Howard Johnson had been my Tuba instructor,
Could we ever have played a duet?

When I think of one thing I have practiced,
it is my passion: sewing
As I sewed and sewed and poke my fingers, untangled threads,
I recalled Donna's grandmother showing us how to embroider,
my Mom sharing little witticisms like
a lazy woman's thread is long and gets tangled (meaning a not lazy woman has a shorter thread and changes more often but saves time not de-tangling...get that?)
Still my threads get tangled, little mistakes,Minor bumps.
I move through the projects better now, sewing smoother and with better results.
Overall a reward for the patience that comes from

Practice….