"A Different Tune with Frozen Fingers"
Miriam Johnson was our piano teacher and her three worst students were me and my brothers Denis and Michael. More interested in sports than classical music, it was a challenge for Mom to ensure that daily practices were completed. As noted in a previous column, Saturday morning's lesson included a mile walk to Miriam's house on Spring Ave in all types of weather. January winter's were tricky, regardless of how "bundled" you were for the journey. Inevitably our hands were fresh frozen when we reached the side door to her home. Therapy for frozen hands included a regimen of running cold water onto your digits, followed by warm then hot. I'm not sure if she charged my Mom extra for the water before we "tickled the ivories."