Yesterday afternoon I made my 15 minute journey to Innes Park as usual to do an afternoon of piano teaching. The five sisters and their good friend were all delightful as always. This week I was treated to the sight of a broken toenail…and then as a follow up…I got to see the large piece of toenail that had broken off. It seems my youngest student had been saving it just for me. While I am nowhere near as brilliant at capturing dialogue as Catriona at Circulating Library the conversation went something like this: Me: Right, let’s start with this one today (points to music book) Youngest Student: I broke my toenail. Me: Really, that’s no good. Okay, from here, what’s the first note? Youngest Student: Would you like to see? Me: Not really. (youngest student immediately starts ripping off her shoes and socks) Youngest Student: See, it’s all red. Me: (suitably impressed) Hmmm…yes that looks sore. I think you will live though. Youngest Student: Would you like to see the toenail? Me: Not really (youngest student races to her bedroom to find the piece of toenail and returns with it in the palm of her hand. For the record it was really quite large) Me: Wow, that is big…..No, you can hold it. Youngest Student: Ok (places toenail in her discarded shoes and sits back at the piano ready to play) Lesson continues as if nothing had happened. Then after all the lessons I was treated to dinner…yummy homebread and homemade sausages followed by a caramel drumstick. What more could I ask for on a Thursday afternoon?