Being Me

Okay.  It's been too long since I mauled some innocent little nursery rhymes to death.... Humpty Dumpty fell off a wall But he was the size of Nepal. All the king's horses and all the king's men Said, 'We'll help him this time, but NEVER again.' Jack and Jill went up the hill To fetch a pail of water But Jill went 'Ohhhhhhhh!' and tore off her clothes And (surprise!) gave birth to their daughter. 'Mary, Mary, quite contrary - How does your garden grow?' asked someone who was passing who really wanted to know. But Mary Mary quite contrary, The question annoyed her so She battered him with her spade. Now he's the compost that helps it grow. Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, Jack jump over the candlestick. Jack be singed in a delicate place. Jack be red all over his face. Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep and doesn't know where to find 'em. Check in the butcher's window, Bo. Your lambsies are just behind

That's two lists that have amused me this week and I am going to inflict them on you. I need someone in the novel I'm avoiding writing writing to be able to get into someone's house through the front door, then commit a murder, and get out again without any damage being done to the lock.  No, don't ask me why.  I'm not even sure of the facts myself yet.  And I'm wishing I'd decided to write a limerick instead.  I can do those.  Here's one. There once was a writer called Fran Who said to herself, 'Yes, I can! I can write me a novel - make publishers grovel - And she started to draw up a plan. You see?  That took me one minute flat.  This damn novel is going to take me until 2046. Anyway, I googled, 'Can you pick a lock without damaging it?' I only had to type 'Can you pick a lock without ....' and it knew the rest.  It seems like a popular search, alarmingly (ha ha - unintentional pun!) and took me to what I'm sure

We got sent home early today from school because of snow.  I passed one boy in the corridor who's in my English class and he said to me, 'Hey, I suppose that means we don't get to have our English lesson.' Can you tell from the way I've written it what tone he said this in?  Just in case you can't guess, here's a picture of the kind of facial expression we're talking about here. Ouch! I said to him, 'Er, let's just run through that again, shall we?' and made him repeat it after me, word by word, in a sombre, mournful tone, wearing this kind of facial expression instead. Luckily, he played along.  He was probably thinking, 'I know she's crazy already.  I won't risk upsetting her.'  I nearly gave him three merits and a chocolate bar for doing so, but I think that would have laid bare my deep need for approval and affirmation just a little too clearly.  One so hates to look needy. The longer I'm

I loved this conversation I had with my son this morning on the phone.  His son Elijah is now 6 months old and they live in Surrey.  That's Elijah above, looking as though butter wouldn't melt .... Me: Hiya.  Where are you? Son: Just getting out of the car and going back into the house. Me: Oh, where have you been? Son:  For a long drive. Me: Oh, that's nice.  What a lovely, spontaneous thing to do on a Saturday. Son:  It wasn't the plan.  But we went to the shops, and Elijah fell asleep in the car on the way back.  And when Elijah falls asleep in the car, you keep driving.  We carried on for an hour. I can't think of a better story to illustrate what it's like with tiny children.  Elijah hasn't exactly won any awards so far for Learning How to Nap in the Daytime. I remember it well - all the different ways of getting them to sleep/keeping them asleep, including going out for walks at three in the morning, envying everyone whose curtain

I know you're probably bored, and sitting there thinking, 'I've finished reading Dostoevsky.  What next?  Oh, I wonder if Fran has ever written anything on soap dispensers.  I must go and look.' So here's a section from Chapter 9 of my book 'Being Miss' in which Miss has an adventure with a soap dispenser during a 'free period' when she doesn't have a class. In free periods, or ‘frees’ as they’re dubbed, all the school clocks speed up, their hands sweeping round with spite to the next bell.  It’s bizarre, because during lessons in which children are uncooperative, you’re hungry or you’re teaching possessive apostrophes, the clock hands stutter round like aged relatives.  Yes, time flies when you’re having frees. But, in those frees, while the clock hands speed up, everything else slows down.  Computers take longer to let you log in.  The ink in your red pen dries up so that you have to go foraging in the back of a dusty cupboard

Okay, so, to pick up the conversation we were having a couple of posts back , here's a taster of the rest of my 2012 blogging year. In  July , I had an anonymous comment on my blog which amused me: Wοnԁerful article! That is the kind of info thаt are  meant to be shareԁ аcгоss thе net. Shame on the seek engines for nοt positionіng this  ѕubmit hіgher! Ϲomе on ovеr аnd seeκ advice from  my website . Thаnk you =) Feel free to surf my web page  ::  Roxy Bedding     My comment on his comment:  Anon, let me give you a piece of advice.  If you are to establish a convincing presence on the Internet, you ought to learn the jargon.  Although your term 'seek engine' made me spit into my tea, it's probably something you should go and research.  'Shame on the seek engines' indeed, however, for not positioning my submit higher.  I have been thinking the same thing for a long time.    In August , I was in the mood for murdering well-known nursery rhymes: Mary ha