Sometimes I indulge in self-pity. This is one of those times, but it won't be a big one.

I have noticed how Paul makes no comment about food I make (that he eats) or about my piano playing or just about anything I do, unless it's a negative comment. Once in a while he'll say something is good, like a batch of hummus I made. Mostly no.

What this reminded me of what others in my life. Just about without exception the people in my life who were important to me withheld praise from me. And I am one of those people who thrives on praise, who hungers for it, needs it like food. I think, over the years, this condition has lessened so I don't need it as much, but even if I don't need it I like it. And wonder why it isn't there.

The exceptions have mainly been music teachers. One who said "There are no great teachers, just great students." Another who said "My best student is a math major", and another who told others I was "tremendously musical". I needed that so desperately that it's a good thing they actually appreciated what I did.

No, nothing more...now, anyway...