Last month, before Ogden died, I did a poll on Twitter to get suggestions about what I should blog about. I was hoping that people would pick food but of course it was the subject I wanted to blog least about was the one that was chosen.
Okay everyone has seen those newspaper reports about people who get taken to court and sometimes evicted because they’ve been playing the same song over and over again and sometimes very loud. That’s me except for the sound level.
Psychologically anticipating the next sound and knowing what the next word is elicits a feeling of comfort in the brain so I’m givng myself a hug. Lots of people do this and most people don’t force their neighbours to listen to it.
It explains I suppose why I’m reluctant to listen to new music. I’m still listening to the Doobie Brothers with the same regularity I did when I was 14 which was *coughs* ago.
I’ve sang in choirs over the years most of them assoociated with sacred music. I’m still a fence sitter when it comes to God but, like a lot of other fence sitters and atheists, sacred music is fantastic to sing. When music is composed for God it is composed in a way that is different to composing it for man and that’s why it’s so wonderful to sing it.
I sing out loud at home all the time. When I’m not talking to the cats I’m singing something. I’m one of those people who can’t shut up even when I have nothing to say.
I used to sing to Ogden all the time and when I did he used to come and sit with his back to me and press himself up against my legs and I used to stroke him from his lovely silky head down over this rough lurcher type hair. I groomed him at times when I sang and that suited him well too.
This is what I used to sing to him. I’d say enjoy but my voice isn’t what it was.