Guilt trip

A week today I''ll be on the final leg of a journey that began last spring, driving from Perth to Edzell to collect the Monkey. Part of me is very excited about this, although the excitement is, as so often when you've waited for so long for something, tempered by doubt. Suppose the Monkey is no easier to play, sounds no better than Morag? Suppose at a session someone says to me "where are your other pipes? I really like them"? It'll be fine, it'll be fine.

Then there's the guilt. Poor Morag. After all she's done for me over the last 18 months and all I've done is whinge and moan and blame her for my shortcomings, and now I feel I am going to abandon her. When I got my previous car I had already cried for weeks about losing the old one; picking up my most recent car I was so excited when I saw her parked outside the showroom that I didn't give the old one a second glance. It feels as though it would be cruel to abandon Morag, and yet, I'm not abandoning her. It's less (I try to tell myself) like buying cars and more like buying boots. It's always exciting to fall in love with a brand new pair of boots, and to be able to wear them out and about and have people admire them - lovely new boots! - but the old favourites are always there in the wardrobe, boots that have been worn, cherished and loved for five, seven or more years (one elderly and decrepit pair I've had for 16 years, and shabby as they are I still wear them from time to time, and love them dearly).

So I must try to stop feeling guilty about Morag and concentrate on looking forward to the Monkey and the next era of my piping life.