Beautiful Oboe
Beautiful Oboe

The instrument of my dreams. Reacquainted with classical music, I drew near to the melancholic sound of the oboe. For some years I harboured the urge to play this harbinger of the orchestra. Not as sweet as the clarinet, not so down in the boots like a bassoon.

Then, it was – SHOCK, HORROR! I discovered the price of my dream; between $3,000 and $6,000.

So it was a case of – on to he next dream.

So, no more oboe. But I still love the sound.

We all have dreams. I am approaching 70 faster than I would like to; in less than two months, I’ll be there. In some ways that is a dream, arrive at 70. But then so it was a dream to fly, initiated when I was eight. I did. Oh, I flew in commercial airliners when my mother dragged me and my brother and sister off to Auckland for the school holidays. But I was 13 and I realised my dream to fly. It was in this…

A Harvard – A Dream

A 20-minute flight over the suburbs and over our house, I watched Dad working in the garden from above. But, it was a dream realised. I flew, my sweaty hands on the control column following the movements of the pilot in the back seat.

Yes, throughout one’s life one has many dreams. I still have some on my “List of Things to do”…