by Karina Meacham | Apr 27, 2018 | Children, Story
I remember sitting under the piano with my doll while she sang. It was magnificent old black Beale. Every Friday morning I would go along and bear witness to her magnificent voice. Un bridled, soul deep and unique to her. My grandmother’s singing teacher was an older... 
by Karina Meacham | Apr 23, 2018 | Story
Fe Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of an English Man. I will crush his bones to make my bread. Fe Fi Fo Fum. Was it just me or did your Dad play this hide and seek game with you when you were young too? As politically incorrect as it sounds these days, this rhyme my dad... 