Sonja singing and playing
on her little kalimba
a samsula delightful instrument sounding like a clear babbling brook washing over me
Last night i went to bed rather early, and when i was just sleeping, there was a knock on my window and a sweet voice waking me, like a dream. It is Sonja.
Her voice, i wouldn't call it sweet; it can reach notes, i cannot even dream of, and you can only imagine the power, it scares the bears. And so beautiful, it has you sit on the tip of your chair and all you know, is her voice filling the theater.
Hey i am no music critic, but she is a very good soprano!
Anyway, running around naked, i say, do come in.
(haha, as i write this my husband calls, he will be home in an hour, he was gone for 4 days, i'll do and say the same thing)
This morning Sonja and i were going to go berry picking, but we didn't get to the patch till 4 pm. In the morning she brought out her kalimba, and she, with a little input of me, started making new songs. It was wonderful.
And finally at 4, we got to the berry patch, the strawberries bigger than ever,
And.... THE RASPBERRIES are ripe. The first ones.
They are worth picking, please come and pick with me, as i find it hard to pick alone, but i do like to end up with at least a half dozen jars of jam. A dozen litres frozen raspberries and then all the desserts from now on till the end of the summer.