Yard Piano

After 90 years as a modest but serviceable Spencer upright, I was put out to pasture in the backyard of a kind and gentle piano teacher.  Or so I thought.  Alas, things went horribly awry and I found myself subject to the inglorious shame of experimentation and so-called 'prepared piano'.  And then there were the chickens.  Such humiliations.  
Of course, I am grateful for a wall to lean on and eaves to huddle beneath in the damp and mildew of my twilight years.  I console myself with thoughts of melodies long past: the Maiden's Prayer and Sweet-Bye-and-Bye, back when I had all my C#s... and pedals, and a reliable repeat action, and functional dampers, and back wheels.  Still, I can hum and I can dream.  And perhaps I shall rediscover my dignity on youtube...