Pete plays trombone

My dad brought my trombone to me from Texas. I played for 8 years straight, and then I didn't play for nearly as long, about seven years. 

Wow. It's been an adventure picking it back up since I got it back from the shop on Monday. 

Pete isn't quite sure what to make of things. 

I caught him investigating while I was sorting my sheet music this afternoon. 

"How is this thing so loud?"

"Isn't that white thing supposed to make it quiet?"

I really thought Pete would hate it when I practice, but he only seems to mind when I am just buzzing on the mouthpiece. 

The neighbors probably hate me now, but they're lucky I even bought a mute after their 7AM Sunday morning weed-whacking session a couple of weeks ago! I'm not holding a grudge or anything, haha. 

If it happens again, I'll go outside and play my lungs out towards their house! 

I will! 

(And that really is a terrible threat right now since I'm quite awful at the moment.)