Harmony is any note your neighbor is not singing.

One week! Yaaay!

I thought this would be miserable, frustrating work, but it’s actually turned out to be fun. Who knew?
I’ve had my lack of musical ability pointed out in a million ways, both obvious and covert, and always by a loved one. Not once have I had a stranger or nemesis do that to me.

One of the sneakier ways has been to simply remind me that I have a tin ear. “They’re off tune. Can’t you hear that?” “I can’t stand that buzz. Can’t you hear that?” “That one instrument is off time. Can’t you hear that?”

No. No, I cannot. I cannot hear that. I just hear the music, and the movement to it, and the way it can fill the corners of a room and my mind and swirl through my chest.

I can’t tune an instrument by ear, either. But you know what? That’s what tuners are for.

I say unto you, Neener. Neener.

Ima do the thing anyway.

Harmony is any note your neighbor is not singing.

ps. I discovered this week that I’m not as alone as I believed.

pps. Wombats are adorable.