My Hatter 2026

Each year I have a new Hatter. This is not something I consciously choose. It comes to me.

I bring you Marco Rubio. We may not always agree, or ever agree, but I know you are working from your heart as does your boss. It will test you and try to break you. But the universe is your friend. Your role commences on the first day of Spring until the end of Autumn.

Good Luck. And I love You and Yours and Mine.

Love to Donny, J.D and Pete. We are ready to see your loveliness and courage, for all that is right to you and our global sanctuary, do not suffer fools, anywhere.

🐰💜Rabbit💜🐰

A Tapestry of Voices: From Jazz to Justice and Beauty

A Tapestry of Voices

Morning: Jazz, Warmth, and the Voices That Teach Me

My eclectic room space was cold this morning, the wind rattling around the windows while the boxes of vintage finds waiting for attention were scattered around my bed, as the pets played in and around them. Guests had only just left, the sanctuary settling back into its own rhythm. I put on Jazz FM — the music that has steadied me through more anxious recent years than I ever expected to live through.

Jazz FM is more than a radio station. It’s a whole world.


A place where:

  • genres blend into each other
  • presenters become familiar companions
  • interviews feel like conversations you’ve been invited into
  • the book club opens new doors
  • the history of music is taught gently, without effort
  • personalities shine through — warm, quirky, knowledgeable, human

It’s a station full of characters, each with their own rhythm and flavour. It’s education combined with comfort. And I understand it would be impossible for any person to enjoy each branch of the Jazz spectrum, so many genres within one word. Dinner Jazz. Jazz Funk. Dub Jazz. Electric Jazz. Afro Jazz. Modern Jazz. Contemporary. Traditional Jazz etc. Listen in and choose your own … mix and match 🎵 🎶 🎼 🎷.

I love sax, harp and flute. But really, there’s a space in my heart for all of it.

This morning, Tony Minvielle was on — with that unmistakable warmth he brings to every conversation. Like the other hosts there, Tony has a way of speaking to artists that makes you feel like you’re sitting in the room with them, not listening through a radio.

Today he was talking with Jill Scott — affectionately known as Jilly from Philly — a vocalist whose sound carries the weight of history. At 53, she has returned with a new album after more than a decade away from releasing original music.

Her new album, To Whom This May Concern, was released on 13 February 2026. It’s an independent release through her own imprint Blues Babe, with distribution via Human Re Sources / The Orchard. A masterclass in taking back your career. A woman in full command of her craft.

Jill grew up surrounded by music, shaped by the soul and jazz traditions that have travelled the world and become a universal language. Her influences run deep: Nina Simone, Sarah Vaughan, the horn players who taught the world how to bend a note into a story.

People say Jill can use her voice like a saxophone, and I believe it. You can hear the breath, the phrasing, the emotional curvature. It’s not imitation; it’s lineage. A shared honesty with the greats.

Her lead single Beautiful People feels like a warm exhale — a song that arrived early for many listeners, like a quiet messenger of what was coming.

Jazz begun with our dear ones across the pond in America, but jazz belongs to everyone now. It’s global, borderless, a language of unity and peace. Jill’s voice feels like part of that lineage: rooted, soulful, unafraid.

And she is not alone in this independent renaissance.
Emma‑Jean Thackray, working from her home studio in Leeds, Yorkshire, is another stunning face of modern jazz — a multi‑instrumentalist and producer blending brass band traditions, electronica, and spiritual grooves into something entirely her own.

Leeds to Philly. Emma and Jill. Two women manifesting something much greater from their own sanctuaries.


Yesterday: GB News Debate, Courage, and the Women Who Refuse to Break

Yesterday, in a completely different corner of my world, I found myself drifting into my usual rhythm of catching up with TV. I’ve never been someone who can sit still long enough for a full film; my life is too kinetic, too full of movement and responsibility. So I dip in and out of things, and as you know, that often means GB News.

Not because I agree with every topic — but because I enjoy:

  • debate
  • humour
  • freedom of speech
  • the characters who appear on screen
  • the energy of people thinking out loud

Yesterday, Nana Akua — stunningly individual, unapologetically outspoken — sat down with Nina Aouilk. And Nina wasn’t alone. Her daughter, Celeste, sat beside her, beautiful and free in that effortless way that comes from being raised in truth rather than fear.

There was something powerful in that image: a survivor and her child, both whole, both present, both refusing to be defined by the cruelty of others.


Nina Aouilk: A History of Survival and a Mission of Protection

Nina’s history is not an easy one. She survived the most unbearable physical and emotional torment at the hands of men who believed they could break her spirit. They tried to silence her. They tried to erase her. They tried to make her small.

But she refused.

And that refusal is written into everything she does now.

Nina has become a speaker, educator, and advocate for women who have suffered abuse — not from a distance, but from lived understanding. She works with survivors of:

  • coercive control
  • honour‑based violence
  • cultural oppression
  • the quiet, invisible forms of harm society still struggles to name

Her talks are direct, unflinching, compassionate. She speaks into the fire so others don’t have to burn alone.

She and Celeste are now working to create safe spaces for women and children — real rooms, real materials, real support. They’re asking for help, inviting people to contribute through a donation page that supports the resources needed to build those sanctuaries.

It isn’t charity; it’s rebuilding.
It’s protection.
It’s hope.

Watching her, something in me answered.

I want to be part of that. Not someday in the abstract, but in the near future, when my own life steadies enough to let me step forward. I want to contribute to the creation of those safe spaces. I want to stand with women who have been silenced, intimidated, or harmed. I want to use my own resilience — the same resilience that has carried me through years of digital interference, stalking and sabotage of my bedroom, business and livelihood. Using my attempted erasure — to help others find their footing again.

Please note. Due to the sensitivity of this topic and the problems endured, I have not added any links here to protect the vulnerable. These links are however available via web search.


The Realisation: These Worlds Are Not Separate

And that’s when it struck me: these worlds I move through — jazz, debate, sanctuary, resilience — they aren’t separate. They’re threads of the same tapestry.

Jill Scott’s voice heals.
Emma‑Jean Thackray’s voice innovates.
Nina Aouilk’s voice protects.
Nana Akua holds space with fire.
And I, in my own way, am learning to hold space too.

This is my world. A tapestry of sound, debate, music, personality, survival, and intention. A life stitched together by the voices that keep me company and the courage that keeps me moving forward.


🐇💛Rabbit💛🐇