THE SONGS OF A NIGHTINGAIL

  My Grandma Bradley (My Dad’s mother) sang in the church choir and with a group called the “Mother Singers” in Berkeley, CA until she was 80 – literally, till her last day.  She sang in a concert with the Mother Singers, and that night passed away from a stroke.  She loved singing, so it could be said she ‘went out’ doing what she loved.    My father had a wonderful bass/baritone voice when the family sang together around campfires in the summer, or the piano during the holidays, but he never sang with any group that I know of. Speaking of the bass voice, I’ve always wondered why it’s spelled that way instead of the way it sounds.  Here’s an example of what I mean . . . Okay, comic interlude over.  Back to where we were. (Pearls Before Swine is my #1 favorite comic strip!) My mother had a lovely voice and sang professionally with a band in her late teens and early twenties.  And I remember her singing around the house all the time when I was growing up.  But she never joined a c

  In the summer Our Groveland house sat slightly uphill of a little creek and at night the air was filled with the sound of the softly babbling creek together with a symphony of crickets and frogs and owls hooting - maybe a dog barking in the distance? In summer I’d lay in my deck swing for a while, swinging gently back and forth as I listened to that lovely cacophony of summer night music before heading for bed, and since our bed sat under an open window, I’d continue to listen to nature’s wonderful concert as I drifted off to sleep. A babbling brook Crickets chirping (you might have to turn your sound up a bit for this one) Frogs croaking The haunting musical hoot of the Great Horned Owl The musical tittering notes of the screech owl The far-off sound of a dog barking in A sharp or B flat? Also in the summer when we lived in Oakhurst there was a large covey of quail numbering around 20 that came running down the bank behind our bedroom and into our yard every morning just as it w

  The music heard from a jukebox is orchestrated.  We don’t really think about it, but there are all kinds of un-orchestrated musical sounds surrounding us every day, all day – and night, for that matter.  Cars and trucks honking.  Sirens screaming.  Cable car bells ringing.  Train whistles whistling.  Ship horns blowing.  Propeller planes' and blimps' musical sounds as they fly by overhead.   In season, if you live where it snows, sleigh bells jingling, and in summer, the happy music of the ice cream truck (which is orchestrated), to name a few.  There are, of course, the sounds of nature - birds singing & twittering, etc. - if you can hear them through all the other noise, er, I mean, music. J We live right across the street from a hospital so we hear siren tones all the time.  Also helicopters landing & taking off which have different tonal qualities depending on whether they’re taking off or landing.  You get used to it and after a while, the sound barely regis

  Banjo My husband’s Grandfather, Harry (Poppy) Brasier, played the banjo quite well. Clarinet My Dad played the clarinet in high school. Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures of him with it. Upright piano My brother and sisters and I took piano lessons from my Grandma Bradley – learning on her old upright piano similar to this one . . . . . . and practicing on the old mustard yellow upright at home. My brother and I are the only ones who continued to play the piano, however, and as he’s been taking further piano lessons of late, he’s better at it than I am.  Still, I’ve always loved to pound away on whatever piano I happen to have at the moment. I’ve played on a variety of pianos over the years.  First, of course, my Grandmother’s old upright and the old mustard yellow piano.  I plunked away on an old upright someone gave us after I was married and living in a little 4-room log cabin.  Believe me, I found a place for it!  Later, I had a light gray studio upright with chipped keys.