A welcoming home

I told them my father was a musician and my mother an excellent cook, and brought many of them home. My kind mother always made something good. But one day a small orchestra - five musicians - came with me. I can still see them, climbing the five floors to our apartment with the bass drum, the cymbals, the cello and the rest of their gear! My mother's eyes opened wide, but she got them settled, peeled potatoes and found a few eggs to give them a good feast. Getting home from work, my father was very surprised to see the instruments piled in the landing and so many people at the table! But soon they were talking about what was happening to traditional music and the many, often talented musicians who played it. My parents didn't scold me, for they were very hospitable and sympathized with anyone in need, just as they welcomed the lost birds, dogs and cats I brought home. We always had several cats and for a few years we had a magpie that used to sit on my shoulder and noisily tell me its life story. It pulled out the fur of the cats sleeping under a sheet of newspaper, and every morning the cats would look for the little pieces of meat the magpie had hidden in its cage.