I heard a quote once, that our Universe, should be called a Multichorus. I think this is true, whoever you are, wherever you are, you sing your duet, or solo, or group part and in some way are part of the huge choir of the world.

Music is a language anyone can speak, it reaches over barriers of age, time and culture. It is ‘quite’ a big part of my life. As aforesaid, I play piano, flute, guitar (very badly, ‘Oh when the Saints’ being my most polished accomplishment), and sing for fun. I love listening to music. About last week I was flicking through songs and found this one called Fix You. I listened to it and was nearly in tears by the end. The writer connected with me in a way he will never know. That is what I think is beautiful about music, most everyone interprets it in a different way, some it just passes by like a river, and others hold it in the treasure trove of their hearts forever.

Music inspires feelings. Anger, love, sadness, happiness, sass 😛 Dancing has always brought people together, to be fair, it leaves some stood on the sidelines, but from ballet dancers, to dads, everyone can enjoy it and just ‘let it go’…. 😀

Music brings people together. Think back a couple of weeks to the Manchester attack, a while after this they did the One Love Manchester concert. Thousands, and I mean thousands of people listened whether through radio, (it was on nearly every station), television, or live, people all over the UK and the world, were touched. To me, it was a vivid picture that in the face of horrible things like that, we will stand together.

Basically I think we should never underestimate the incredible power of music in the human heart. From Beethoven to heavy metal, it pulls the strings of our hearts and brings us together.


Awesome Blogger Award!

Thanks Hannah for nominating me for this award! I am not quite sure what it is… But thanks! ❤ Check out Hannah’s amazing blog at


Created by Maggie

This is an award for the absolutely wonderful writers all across the blogging world. They have beautiful blogs, are kind and lovely, and always find a way to add happiness and laughter to the lives of their readers. That is what truly defines an awesome blogger.


Thank the person who nominated you.

Include the reason behind the award.

Include the banner in your post.

Tag it under #awesomebloggeraward in the Reader.

Answer the questions your nominator gave you.

Nominate at least 5 awesome bloggers.

Give your nominees 10 new questions to answer.

Let your nominees know that they’ve been nominated!

The questions:


  • Why did you start your blog?


Ummm, why did I start my blog??? I don’t really know to be honest! I think I read Hannah’s blog and thought it was a super cool idea, and here we are!


  • What is your favourite part of blogging?


My favourite part… Being able to share my life, poems and stories with people.


  • Would you rather have a few loyal commenters or lots of silent followers?


Hmmm, that’s hard, probably lots of silent followers.


  • What is your favourite childhood memory?


There was this time my family and I were at this huge, grassy place which used to be an estate. We were having a picnic and just all playing and laughing, I just remember it as a sunlit, happy kind of thing.


  • What is your favourite topic to write about?


Just things about my life! I like to write poetry, and to share that with people, I think the amazing thing about stuff like poems and music is that whoever you are it can touch you, even if you don’t understand what the writer/ composer was talking about.


  • Funniest moment of the week?


Of this week? I was at this group I go to on a Monday, and my friend Tom messed up a line of Shakespeare very badly… The whole room was in hysterics.


  • What is your favourite word and why?


Perpendicular- because I LOVE the way it sounds… But I totally think that we should adopt these words in Britain:

  • Shemomedjamo (Georgian)
    This word describes that feeling when you are really full, but your meal is just so deliciously amazing that you can’t stop eating it…
  • Yuputka (Ulwa)
    You know when you get out of bed at night, and you are creeping to the bathroom (or wherever) and you get that prickly sensation of something lightly crawling on your skin… That is what this word is.
  • Boketto (Japanese) 
    The act of gazing uselessly into the distance, deep in thought.


  • Who is your favourite fictional character?


That is sooo hard, I may have to give a top five:

  1. Elizabeth Bennet
  2. Mr. Darcy (Die-hard Pride and Prejudice fan, right here, folks)
  3. Kenneth Ford (Rilla of Ingleside)
  4. Aslan (Whenever he appears in the incredible Narnia series I feel a sense of peace like nothing can go wrong.)
  5. Ella (Ella Enchanted- another of my absolute favourite books!)


  • What did you have for breakfast this morning?


Cereal. Nothing special… 😀


  • Who/what inspires you the most?


Jesus! But aside from him, my older sister is pretty amazing, and I am deeply inspired by Rachel Joy Scott, who is a real life hero who died in a school shooting in 1999. (The movie about it is called I’m Not Ashamed.)


I am so sorry, I only know a handful of bloggers so can only nominate one….

My sister Hannah! She has a great blog where she reviews books and theatre performances. Here is the link:

Here are some questions Hannah:

  1. What do you love most about reading?
  2. What is your favourite thing about life at the moment?
  3. What is your favourite movie?
  4. Which season do you like the most?
  5. Which movie or book character do you think you are most like?
  6. What is your favourite animal?
  7. Are you a day or a night person?
  8. Where is your favourite place you have ever been?
  9. Chocolate or Sweets?
  10. Favourite celebrity?

The Yellow Dress.

This is a poem that I wrote about losing childhood. When I was about 9, I had (as I describe) a yellow dress. It had pink flowers on it and was, in all opinions aside from my own, very ugly. So for about a summer of my life I walked around looking rather like a battenberg. This poem started off being about another dress I owned, it was a huge, heavy, denim dress with massive pockets perfect for holding notebooks or a small teddy bear, but I changed it to be about my Yellow Dress. Anyway, I hope you like it!

The Yellow Dress.

By H. Evans

When I was younger,

I wore a dress.

A yellow dress.

I mock myself now.

But then,

The ugly material was as beautiful to me

As silk or satin is now.

I laugh.

But really,

I cry.

Missing my yellow dress.

And the girl in it.

Now I stand

For hours.

Sifting through my clothes.

Searching for a yellow dress.

That can’t be found.

Gone like the girl who wore it.

My memory hates the yellow dress.

But loves the girl who went with it.

Who grinned at the way the yellow stuff

Caught the sun.

And turned to gold.

My sister scorned the dress.

When it didn’t fit me anymore.

I tried to make her wear it.

But love,

Like anything,

Cannot be forced.

And even as the soft cloth slips through my fingers.

So the girl.



Glancing back over her shoulder,

At me.

Tied down with more beautiful dresses,

That make me feel small.

Flying in her yellow dress.


With the sheer exhilaration of life.

Painted against my memory,

A patch of yellow in my past.

In which I meet a spider

My sister and I were in the kitchen, suddenly my mum gave a little scream and ripped off her slipper. I looked down onto the bottom shelf, there just slipping back behind a pile of place mats, was a spider. Now I don’t like spiders at the best of times, but this was no ordinary spider. This was the Goliath of spiders, the Voldemort, the Sauron, he was the prime example of what a spider wants to be, huge, black and I don’t hesitate to admit, pretty terrifying. Eventually Mum convinced Emily to catch or kill the spider. She began to endeavour to do so, unpacking the random things at the back of the cupboard that had probably been in there since the Vikings attacked Britain. Anyway, she failed to destroy our foe so I decided (for whatever reason…) to have a go. I sat down and gingerly took out a tin that had been pressed against the bottom of the cupboard for so long that it was a little stuck, I gave it a push, there behind it was the spider, I held the tin out from me with two fingers. Yuck. But Mr. Houdini ran up through a gap to the next shelf. So I began unpacking that one, the huge glass bowls were quite heavy, and I was worried that I would drop them in surprise if the spider did appear. However he seemed to have heard the noise for he went down again, (that is one thing me and the spider share: the inability to make up our minds). This time I caught him in a cup. 😀 yay! Emily then tried to take him out of the cupboard but at present he is still being suffocated or starved in the bottom of the cup.

Later Note: My dad somehow got the spider out of the cupboard in the end… Superdad! My dad put the spider outside, where he belongs, and apparently he rushed straight back to the house. We however barred the doors and windows and hopefully our uninvited visitor will not come again.