My dad called me last night to tell me that, Tragedy of Tragedies, my grandfather's piano had been stolen from the family farmhouse outside of Olathe (KS). My dad had been rather casual about not locking the house and just trusting to chance that no one would come in, and despite the fact that people obviously did come in he persisted in being ... in denial. I kind of thought it would be nice to have the piano, in part because I thought it was pathetic for such a pretty thing to be mouldering in a house that was practically falling apart around it, but when it didn't make it out here with the load of stuff my brother and my dad U-hauled out this summer, I pretty much gave up hope of ever seeing it again. Well, good for the thieves, and good for old Tinkletunes, I'm sure he'll be a lot happier wherever he wound up rather than serving as a nest for mice.
The ballet discussion last night was fun if somewhat disorganized. I did find out that William Forsythe's company will be coming to Berkeley in the summer, so it looks like I'll be seeing San Francisco some time around my birthday.
I really need to get down to Elliot Bay and get a new diary - not to mention the second book in the "Kushiel's Saga" series. I'm planning on taking the first one (and the copy of "Fall of the Kings" I just finished) over to Cort's - I'm sure he'll love them.