By Robin DearingWith the start of the new school year, so starts the extracurricular activities. Being that Margaret has never shown any interest in playing team sports (unless you consider tag a team sport), we’ve had to look for her talents elsewhere. It wasn’t hard to find where her interests lie (at this point, anyway — much like the winds in western Colorado, the passions of a 6-year-old are fleeting and erratic). She loves music. I’m not at all ashamed to admit that this delights me. We’ve been hoping that Margaret would have a love for music since … well, long before she was born. My husband couldn’t wait for Margaret to grow old enough to hold drumsticks and for her third birthday she got a tiny, but very real, drum kit. Much to Bill’s chagrin, she didn’t really take to the drums. Now the minuscule set sits in our basement next to our amplifiers played occasionally by Margaret but most often by our adult friends/drummers (and believe me, you’ve never lived until you’ve seen an adult-sized drummer kick it on a microscopic drum kit). This past June for Margaret’s 6th birthday, we let her decide which instrument she wanted to play. I was hoping she would pick the guitar and even went so far as to repeatedly show her the Hello Kitty Squier guitar Hart Music carries. She decided on the keyboard, stating that she wanted to play piano like her kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Bainter (who, in my opinion, is an institution and who Margaret thinks walks on water). Yesterday after school, Margaret had her first piano lesson with Mrs. Chavies (another Western Slope institution). I sat nearby and listened and watched and beamed and tried not to cry. She did great. She listened intently. She sat up straight. She showed enthusiasm and an understanding for what Mrs. Chavies was teaching her. As we walked home from her lesson, Margaret proudly shouted to the neighbors that she had just come from her piano lesson. She was very proud of herself. I was, too.