Hiya.

So, I spent about 25 of 30 years attached to a piano, but then I met a man who stole my heart, and left the piano behind in a country far, far away to live in a tiny house in Lancaster. After a good many months without one, I'm finding I really miss having a piano. My hands miss it.

I've been watching for an unloved piano. Where I come from, they're usually tucked away in dusty hotel lobbies, empty restaurants and schools that smell like industrial carpet. If you're clever, you can make deals with the cleaning staff to stay late and play while they mop. But here in this strange land, I'm having no luck.

Maybe I can adopt your unloved piano? I'll come and see it a few times a week and coax a little classical or boogie woogie out of it, depending on the weather. Other than the music, you won't know I'm there. I'm quiet and polite and eternally grateful for this opportunity to blow the dust off the instrument you've invested in but don't use so much anymore. Maybe I can teach you to play, too.

I'm in the center of Lancaster, by the way.

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