First thing in the morning, I listen to the sound of hubby's alarm. Each different alarm blasts through my dreaming with a different tune. My morning is full of sound: hum of tea kettle, whir of the coffee grinder, sizzling eggs in a skillet, clink of silver-wear as I make hubby's lunch, children's waking noises, dog eating. I listen as his keys jingle into his pocket. The snap, snap of shoe laces as he laces up his Danner work boots. The pop of his work hat as he punches his hand into the dome of the cap before placing it on his head. There is the smooching sound as he kisses me "good-bye" before the thud of the the front door.
As I move through the morning I take note of how annoying our Blue Orpington rooster is; he crows all the time. Clack-clackity-clack sounds the train as it screeches by. The train-whistle pierces the morning air.
The song birds start to come awake and sing as they eat breakfast.
I play music as the kids and I start our day. I tag it "Music Appreciation" for our school.
The cat mew's at the door, wanting to be fed.
Today the sound of rain overflowing the downspouts punctuates normal day sounds. Rain pounding on rooftops is a strange soul soothing sound.
I tell the kids to take a break from piano practice several times a day. They have found a love for the Wallace and Grommit theme song and they each play it over and over and over. They are practicing playing a duet of the "Song of Storms" from the video game Zelda which, sounds just like the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory song "Pure Imagination".
The washing machine shakes and rattles as it spins out the grim of our lives.
As I check email I listen to music which is interrupted "grrrrrt" by the "blaaaaarrt-feeeeet" from my "bweeeegg" fraggy "flaaaarrp" sound-card "gleeeep". Always makes me laugh.
There is the ever-present whining and arguing between kids. There is also laughter, mostly from the kids-not enough from me. The dogs toe nails scratch across the hardwood.
As we move into the Nuclear Hour the T.V starts to blare against the sounds of me in the kitchen. Voices raise as hubby comes home "Daaaad!" they yell. Forks scrap against plates. Glasses clink. Sink fills with with bubbles. Sound begins to soften as the day comes to a close. Small ones recount the day to siblings. Noise settles down and sound is only pages turning in favourite books.
During the night, I listen to the sound of hubby's snoring, sometimes horribly loud other times soft....
