Of Coffee grown from a teapot shaped country

If you were having coffee with me, I would tell you tell you that, it feels like I spoke too soon when I announced Spring is here yesterday because today is a cold day like we rewound time to the middle of winter. But everything works out perfectly, we wont need an excuse to light a fire and drink a liquid hug in a mug…..

My friend Josh, left a comment on my last post that had me thinking, my country is teapot shaped and that is not a bad thing, it could be anything really; Oneta mentioned her state looks like a pan handle… what is your country or state shaped like?

A teapot shaped country south of africa

A teapot shaped country

Today is day 2 of my blog everyday challenge; and if you were having coffee with me I would tell you to allow me to pour you tales grown from my teapot shaped country.

I am the second born child in a family of five siblings (and now we are 4). I grew up in an extremely large family because my dad rest his soul had a heart of gold and if any relation needed a place to stay he would agree quickly without a second thought.

The family.jpg

We didn’t have rules any rules in the house; if we did they we less than ten and they weren’t really rules they were more like I would rather you didnts

If there was one rule we had, it was that the word cousin never be used, we had no cousins, we had brothers and sisters. In our culture my uncles (my father’s brothers) are my fathers and my aunts (my mum’s sisters) are my mothers and so their children are my siblings. It’s a great way to keep the family united and when my dad passed away although I missed him I never felt the void of missing a father figure.

Every school holiday we went visiting, either the paternal or the maternal grandparents alternating each time..

grandmaGranma

That one was not a rule that was a commandment. It helped to keep us grounded, we knew where we came from.

Grandfather and grandchild

My Grandad and I

All the stories told, suddenly years later I realise they are so much more than stories and this is why I too am a storyteller, keeping wisdom alive in the embers of a story.

If you were having coffee with me; I would tell you I was born to tell stories

Baby Beaton

 

I could speak before I could walk, and I walked before I could stand. I am told people found that highly disturbing I wouldn’t know I don’t remember…. What I do remember is that once upon a time my dad and I snuck out the house to go to a barbecue with the guys, I was made to swear not to reveal where we had gone, what we had done and whom we had done it with and was bribed with an insane amount of soft drinks, kebabs, ice creams and sweets. As soon as I got out home the first words out of my mouth to my mum were:

I am not telling you that I am not supposed to tell you that I was given sweets to not tell you that…..

I am sure my dad was not amused at all.

I am a fairly decent cook and I am super modest about it, you might even find my picture right under the definition of Modesty. Growing up my mum didn’t differentiate chores for the boys and girls she would just suggest, I would rather you didn’t leave dirty dishes in the sink, I would rather you all helped each other cook….

African parents are known for their heavy handed justice but I never got beat up, ,maybe we were model children and growing up without a father we were forced to be mature kids we never needed disciplining or rules…..

Family

already reading newspapers, helping “kids” with homework

My older brother was off at boarding school and so suddenly  I become “the responsible child”

Prefect

The Prefect

I was a prefect in primary school, a dorm prefect in junior high, a table leader at the the dining and a senior prefect in high school…. I never became a government minister though…..😂😂

what was your childhood like?

#MyAfricaMyWords

~B

 

PS a rare picture of my mum and dad way before The Kids

A rare photo.jpg

A rare picture of me being a baby

me .jpg

 

 

 

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Of September Blog Everyday Challenge

Hello September

Today marks the anniversary of my first blog post, a dedication to my sister moonI deleted that particular post; but it’s been four years since I created this WordPress blog.

Today is also Day One of my blog everyday challenge(s) during the month of September.

My name is Beaton but you can call me ~B.. everyone does.

beaton

My blog is titled Becoming The Muse; but to be honest the meaning of that changes everyday; there is no one truth. Yesterday I wanted you to be my muse, today I want you to be mused by me, and tomorrow maybe you shall muse yourse…… in musing you, I (a)muse myself…..

I hail from a teapot shaped country south of the continent of Africa; Zimbabwe.

A teapot shaped country south of africa

A teapot shaped country

NOTE: The map is drawn not to scale, superimposed Zimbabwe to its relative position to bring out the shape

It’s the first day of spring today but we basically have two seasons, summer and winter, and it doesn’t snow, not ever. I wouldn’t be surprised that our winters are warmer than some people’s summer. Basically our seasons are hot dry season, hot wet season, cold wet season, cold dry season…. Repeat.

My blog has shifted a lot from when I first started, when it was basically a digital diary of all the stories I wanted to eventually tell and I posted at a frequency of once a very long time *hides*

Dear diary

Now my blog has become a place; alive all by its self, a place I make friends and learn and teach a thing or two… who would have thought it?

I have had a blog for years now and still I confess I never think of myself as a blogger; I am a writer who happens to  have a blog:

 

If I am somewhere and they say we need a blogger here, the way they say *somebody call a doctor* in the movies….. 

I would be looking around as well, looking for the blogger being called for……. 

And here I am, a part of not just one blogging challenge but two …. #BlogTemberChallenge and #30DayAfriBlogger both are aligned with sharing the African Narrative…

Its official; September is Africa month at least on this blog it will be….

#MyAfricaMyWords

~B

PS I am curious if you could let me know where you are, its weird how you never really think about where the person on the other side of the screen is and sometimes you assume, even wrongly too ^_^

Of Anniversary Coffee With A Writing Challenge

If you were having coffee with me……

coffee mug next to fire

I would tell you that if you haven’t figured me out by now you really should know that I am is a story teller….. I tell stories. Life happens and I tell stories.

Well technically I write them, but in my head, as I write, I tell the story, and I imagine, you really are here, listening, my imaginary audience, I even imagine how you will react the way you are shaking your head right now and then reading this paragraph again from the start…. Its freaky isn’t it

I know right.

…..and there is a fire, there’s always a fire, the Story Gods are appeased by the flames, as it has always been. Fire is my spirit animal.

If you were having coffee with me I would tell you that you are a voice in my head, correction, one of the voices in my head. Don’t be alarmed I am not a crazy person, and stop It!!! Stop trying to imagine what goes on in my head.

My head for your own information is quite fine, I had it examined today even. I looked in the mirror and I thought to myself I look fine right? And my hair is quite long!!

beaton.jpg

 

My brothers agree with you too.

me and them.jpg

 

If all the people who thought exactly what you are thinking right now (yes I read minds sometimes besides you are a figment of my imagination remember) if all those people were doctors I would be telling you this story from the comfort of an asylum and I would be asking you why straitjackets don’t come in any fun colours…. A rainbow coloured strait jacket Id rock that.

rainbow.jpg

also dont believe my brothers they are no better, they just dont write

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If you were coffee with me I would tell you that if my blog had gone to High School it would be matriculating or writing its General Certificate of Secondary Education O levels just about now.

anniversary.JPG

As an anniversary gift to my blog I shall present it with a blogging challenge to write a blog post everyday for the month of September. The general theme of the posts will be #MyAfricaMyWords and you will get an insight into who I am, why I blog and the place I call home.

Brace yourself  and do drop by to read, hang out and encourage me…. If you would like to take part in this challenge, consider yourself tagged… You Are In. Bring a friend.

MyAfrica.jpg

Look out for the following hashtags on social media #30DayAfriwriter #BlogTemberChallenge #MyAfricaMyWords

~B

Ps I have been day dreaming on the future of storytelling I wont be impressed until someone invents (you know how some phones have that speech-to-text function) a thought-to-text function you simply think out the words and they are plucked out of your head to magically appear on the screen including the relevant images ……

You should come visit my head.

Have an awesome week.