#SoCS October 27/18 – Bone

Linda’s prompt for SoCS this week…

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “bone.” Use it any way you like. Have fun!

Have you ever played the trombone?

Or have you ever really wanted to learn to play an instrument growing up?


When I was younger, there was always that musical inclination. I was blessed to have been sent to a wonderful private school where tuition for pretty much any instrument you wanted could be arranged.

My parents enquired about me learning the piano when I was a mere 4-year-old tot, but at that time they were told my fingers were too small to be able to play (funny, when you see the teeny musical prodigies on the internet nowadays, some are barely out of nappies!)

Having been told that was not possible, I tried a couple of others. I took recorder lessons, and even though I never took any exams, I enjoyed it, and I still have my original recorder with me, over thirty years later! I can still play a mean Polly Wolly Doodle too!

Then I attempted the guitar. Acoustic, it was, and though I wish I had been able to stick it out – quite fancied being the one at uni who could pull out her instrument (guitar, I mean – naughty!) and strum a tune, singing along melodically… but it wasn’t to be. The teacher, Mr Mason – I’ll never forget him – was rather strict, and I recall him sitting there with a pack of fruit Polos ever lesson. He would listen to me playing my practised tunes, all the while sticking the end of a pencil into the hole of the Polos and hooking one and popping it into his mouth. Then, if you had missed a note, or played incorrectly he’d use the end of that same pencil to rap your knuckles!

I told Pops and Mum that I couldn’t go on, and so the note was sent – my term’s notice had been given. My friend was in the same situation too. We dreaded our lessons, but knowing there were just a few weeks left made them more bearable. Then one day we went in and found a different Mr Mason sat there. A rather dapper young man who coincidentally had the same name as his predecessor. He was rather dishy, in our 10-year-old eyes, but the lessons weren’t meant to be.

My guitar sat there, gathering dust. And it also followed me to my marital home, along with the recorder.

At sixth form, I was firm in my decision to become a teacher and it was suggested that I try and learn a little piano as musical skills were always sought after in a teacher. The lady who was my tutor was astounded that I had been put off at a young age, and she tried to teach the 16-year-old Ritu, who was less sponge-like than the 4-year-old Ritu would have been like. I picked up a few things, but a few months of lessons weren’t going to make me a maestro.

This instrument also followed me to my now home, but not a full-sized piano. I had a large keyboard.

The kids love that there are so many instruments in our house. Lil Man is a dab hand at playing the Dhol drum, being self-taught to a degree, then taking lessons. Lil Princess is great at picking tunes out on the keyboard, and she is actually quite good at the ukelele!

And me? Well, I can sing, at least, and dream of a version of me that may have been one of those amazing pianists, tinkling the ebony and ivory keys for the listening pleasure of others!

Ivory – now, is that tooth or bone?


And two Haiku penned a couple of years ago, dedicated to my musical journey!

Loved my recorder
Even though I couldn’t play
Very well at all!


Stood in  a corner
My guitar gently weeps
Not played anymore

Ritu 2016

Catch ya later Peeps! Happy Saturday!


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