Showing posts from December, 2020

Evidence that Fran is acquiring technical skills

Happy Christmas, lovely followers! I know it's not been the year any of us would have ordered (had we been asked) but here and there I have tried to offer humour, cheer and a moment's distraction. Thanks so much for being around, for reading, and for your super comments which I love until they are funnier than my own.  I hope you are able to spend some time, however limited, with family or friends. Our plans were disrupted but we're still able to see one set of family so, counting our blessings!  I've been adding videos to my Youtube channel and these two are Christmas-themed, so I offer them here for your entertainment over the holiday. The first is a poem, the second a song. Take your pick or enjoy both :)  See you in 2021 😊

Evidence that Fran is perhaps over-thinking during Zoom events

I've been to so many Zoom events lately, often those for writers. Here are thoughts I have during them.   1. Do my nostrils look like the Wookey Hole caves to anyone else? 2. I bet I'm not the only one drinking red wine out of a tumbler to pretend it's Ribena.  3. I wish someone had warned me that when you surreptitiously check your phone, your face lights up like a beacon.  4. That woman's dog is so tiny it would do better as a sandwich filling.  5. How embarrassing that I posted the Clapping reaction just as that man told a tragic story.  6. Do my nostrils look like the Wookey Hole caves to anyone else? 7. Hey, if I tilt my head back just a little like *this*, I reduce the number of chins by a sixth. 8. Crap, no! My Chat message saying, 'I'm loving this' came up just as that lady was describing her latest rejection from a publisher.  9. If I turn my camera off, I could eat this Snickers bar then claim technical problems.  10. Do my nostrils look like the W

Reasons why Fran is desperately in search of earbuds

My try-to-get-fitter walk in the fields today was a silent one. I usually listen to the radio through earphones but have lost one of the soft earbuds and nothing spoils a walk more than having hard plastic nudging up against your fragile tympanic membrane. The BBC's  'Woman's Hour' is a brilliant programme but loyalty has limits.  It was disconcerting, walking in silence. Listening to radio distracts from the disturbing reality that my legs are propelling me in forward motion because, if I think too hard about this, I frighten myself.  Today, while walking, I had to listen to my own thoughts.  And now I've listened to my own thoughts, I remember why I like radio better. The inside of my head is like a wastepaper basket.   Be grateful that I only offer you a brief excerpt.  Oh, look, that bird is - / Where did I put that mark scheme. I'll need it for - / My shoes are getting muddier./ Maybe mash with the fish tonight / really muddy / The trees are definitely more