A Sad Guitar

The recorder upon which my sister learned (or maybe tried to learn) to play has been in my keeping for many years. Who knows why. Maybe one of my three learned. The eldest, the only properly musical one, might have conquered it.

It lives in the dressing up box and our two year old granddaughter calls it "the sad guitar" (or, more accurately, the "saggittar"). Both the younger grandchildren use it to make ear splitting sounds. I thought it would make a good blip so here it is.

Busy day ahead. Wednesday childminding with the player of the saggittar, yoga, public community council meeting and, much later, bed. In between times our friend M arrives. We're all doing lateral flow tests like nobody's business.