I vowed today that since work got cancelled due to the crazy ice storm, I would sort every piece of sheet music that is stashed on my cluttered bookshelf. For years, I've let it accumulate into madness, dreading the day when I would have to face the consequences of my disorganization and put it into some kind of order. There is a plastic bag filled with photocopied music that I haven't even opened in years. I fought the impulse to just toss the entire thing, but as it usually goes, I'm glad now that I didn't. The first lost piano treasure in this mess, was a practice schedule from 1992 (I just turned 9). My teacher made me write down how many minutes I practiced per day and then a parent had to initial the bottom. This particular week, I practiced pretty diligently considering it happened to be my birthday! My dad was the parental initialer whose handwriting looks strikingly similar to that of a nine-year-old's...fishy, but I was a very honest child. He just has t