Being Me

Here are some random, trivial and pointless observations from last week's holiday in Tenby, Wales, accompanied by some pictures.  Anyone expecting sea views, fields and cute farm animals hasn't been visiting this blog for very long. Spot the two words which do NOT belong together in the same phrase.  Who are they kidding?  I saw this in the window of a church.  I swear we live in a post-Spelling society. (Not really.  It was a sign in the window of a shoe-menders.) I was confused at first, because my hands are a kind of fleshy pink colour and I wasn't sure how I was meant to dry them if the towels were only for the blue of hand. I was fascinated to find on an old list of stalls from 1892 at a Tenby market that 'beeves' was used as a plural for 'cow' just as 'calves' was used as a plural for 'calf'.  I felt unnerved that this fascinated me, but couldn't deny that it did. Look what it says in brac

I thought I would treat you to a favourite scene of mine from the sequel to 'Being Miss' which I'm currently writing and which will be next year's Booker prizewinner (according to a vivid dream I have sometimes in which I walk up to the stage to receive my prize money wearing a pair of greying knickers, a string vest and some Granddad slippers). It is Monday morning.  'Miss' is in the middle of teaching year 7 a play version of 'Dracula'.  Year 7 are going to act out the scene in which the vampiresses attack Jonathan Harker .......... ‘But you said we could be the vampirettes, Miss.’ Krystal had appointed herself the spokesperson. ‘Vampiresses,' I said. ‘Yeah,’ said Krystal. ‘Vampirettes, vampiressters, it doesn’t matter,’ she said, tossing aside my desire for linguistic accuracy as though it were a used tissue. ‘So me and Bryony and Jade wanted to act it out properly by dressing up and stuff.  Didn’t we?’ The other two nodded, obedien

I woke early this morning, as usual, well before my alarm went off, and was fascinated by an item on Radio 4's 'Farming Today' programme all about how a farm in Devon was marketing giraffe milk with the help of a local zoo.  Did any of you hear it? I listened with interest to the differences between milking cows and milking giraffes, to the description of the milk and how similar to goats' milk it was, and to the fact that they were marketing it in small cartons for now because it was an 'acquired taste' and the customer base wasn't yet secure.  'Do you milk them by hand?' the presenter asked, and the zookeeper said, 'Of course - she'd be frightened by being attached to a milking machine' and I thought, 'Too right.  Why does everything have to be mechanised anyhow?' The farmer concerned offered the presenter 'tea or coffee?' so she could try the milk, but she opted to try the milk neat.  'So would I,' I thought