She’s an upright upright butter colored piano of love. Does she make music? Yes! Is she as sweet as cream? Also yes. Did she help many a person survive the indignity of childhood piano lessons and so many practices for sweaty palmed church performances? Totally. Can you spread her on toast? No. She’s free (unlike regular butter and most pianos) and wants to go to a new home where someone plinkity plinks on her keys and maybe uses her to rest a nice cool glass of milk.