The baby and music.

This afternoon my brother came into my room with a smile that carried full scale mischief, he was followed in by my father who was holding a tiny onesie. It is yellow, mustard is the right word and I wore it as a baby. It was so tiny that I doubted that it was mine even though my mother confirmed it too.


It was a little disconcerting that I was once so tiny and helpless (I know I wasn’t born at my current size but…), and I depended on my parents for everything. I do not appreciate them enough for being excellent parents and for their patience which I always take for granted as I meander through life, making my mistakes and finding my feet.


I also haven’t thanked them for bequeathing me with a fierce love for music that makes this world habitable and perhaps even beautiful for me. One of the reasons I started a blog was to have a place to express my love for music, I thought I’d set up a music themed blog eventually- a dream that never came to be. I still write about music and today I have an entry in the beautiful series on the

It’s titled music, love and the occasional heartbreak please click on the link and let us know your thoughts on the piece. Timi did an excellent job in chiselling at my writing until it shone. I saw a tweet addressed to writers telling them how important it is to get an editor who understands your work and what you’re trying to do, that way they’ll do their jobs and you’ll still sound like you. As Timi and I sent emails back and forth in preparation for today’s post, I finally understood what that tweet truly meant.


I’m excited that November is wearing off slowly and surely, I was born in December and I’m very partial to that month of cool breeze and festivities. I pray that the remaining days of November will be spectacular and that December will be much better.







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