Music is the strongest form of Magic

Welcome to Poppy’s Blog!

The weather has been beautiful and we have a nice breeze that comes through in the morning and afternoon. In the morning, I sit and have coffee on my balcony while the woodpecker family have their meetings.  I have been keeping myself busy working in the garden, writing, crocheting, reading, bicycle riding, going on hikes, making masks, and of course watching "BOSCH"  Julie T. said I should check it out.  It has become my favorite series on Amazon.  Thank you, Julie T.  I sometimes treat myself to the "New York Times" and my favorite sections are the Weekend Arts and the Business Section.  Occasionally, I will attempt the crossword puzzle. 

How have you been holding up since the coronavirus outbreak?  I don't mind being at home, I have become a home body.  I also know I must be careful because my immune system was compromised back in 2007 when I contracted "Valley Fever" in Paso Robles, CA.  If I need to go shopping I do it early morning, and if there are too many people in the store, I will not go in.  I changed a few things I do, always wear a mask, keep 6 feet away and if anyone gets too close, I let them know. 

I would like to share a story while growing up on the farm. In times like this we need to cultivate positivity in our lives.

While growing up, my mom listened to all kinds of music and each of us learned to play an instrument. I was in the 3^rd grade when I learned to play the flute and piccolo. I played in the school band and my music teacher was Mr. Mora. We had spring and winter concerts. We practiced a lot and my brothers gave me hell.  Our dogs would howl when we practiced. My big brother played the trumpet and trombone, my other brother played the drums and my little brother played the saxophone. One Mother’s Day we put on a concert for my mom. She was “tickled pink” and smiled all day.  Those were the days!

          Those were the days, my friend

We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way
La la la la...

My mom signed us up for talent shows. We played songs she picked out, and they were not bad. My big brother played the “Lonely Bull, by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass on his trumpet, I played “Greensleeves a folk ballad by Aafje Heynis” with my flute. When I went on stage, I put the music stand up high so that nobody could see my face. Then, Mr. Mora my music teacher would come on stage and fix the stand. In the beginning I was stage fright, then I got used to it.

I now understand what my mother would say about music.  Music touches our soul because it expresses at times what we cannot verbally express ourselves or that it expresses nearly exactly how we feel. Its universal and, therefore, brings us together. It starts with a beat; raindrops tapping against a window, the roar of the ocean as the waves break and rush towards the shore, the beating of our own heart. Music brings me closer to creativity, tranquility, and beauty. I thank my mom for instilling music in my soul. Did you grow up listening to music? If so, what kind?

I will end with this quote “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”