Sooooooo my mummy told me I had a couple of spelling mistakes in my last blog (I’m sure there’ll be mistakes in this one also, hmmmm, maybe I should send it to her to read first LOL she’s always been my editor and dictionary.
So my darling son has found a new love, pulling my hair and grabbing my glasses. The only hair pulling he used to do was his daddy’s chest hair and that was fine by me – but no Riley has come to the realisation that mummy’s hair is just as fun to play with and trying to pull her glasses off her face is a super fun game LOL.
The other day as my son was Crying and my husband was trying to soothing him, I found myself saying shhhhh under my breath and patting my leg, hmmmmm. I’ve noticed I do this before, someone else will be holding my son and if he starts to carry on I pat my leg involuntarily as I would pat his back if I was holding him – oh dear what has happened to me LOL.
I was delighted recently to find a whole world of people that use the word Blurb. I’ve used this word for a long as I can remember (hey can you write me a blurb on . . .) but on numerous occasions I’ve had to explain to people what the word meant. I had started to think that the word ‘Blurb’ was one of these words I’d picked up from spending five days a week with my grandfather for the past last ten years. I had assumed it was an old fashioned word, as it was always people my age or younger I’d find myself explaining his words to. The same goes for my Nanma (Grandmother) whenever I call myself a ‘silly git’ I laugh and think of her.
I’ve been thinking about going and doing Open Foundation at the Uni, been thinking about it for a couple of years, part time open foundation is approx 20 hours a week (6 on campus for lectures and tutorials at night) bub would be about eight months & I’d possibly be back at work full time hmmmmm, damn it should have done it before, the older my son gets the more of my time he’ll need. Oh Craptacular am I ever going to figure out just what to flipping do with my life. Never the less I’m going to go to the information session on the 10th of December and argue with myself and my husband about only returning to work part time.
I was tiding up my hard drive when I came across a story I had written back in 2005 for a few friends of mine and the spelling was so awful it was funny (but nearly unreadable), I had there for everything, no their or they’re and were was all around. The story isn’t every well written, it was only meant to be a joke between friends, but I fixed up the obvious spelling mistakes and re-saved the file (let’s hope in another eight years I’ll be that appalled that I delete the file lol).
When I left high school in 2002 just finishing year 10, I couldn’t spell to save my life, so it wasn’t a really surprise that the story was so bad. It wasn’t until I left school and got out into the big bad world that I found books and really began to write. I had started writing poetry back when I was fifteen (in year ten) but it’s was very bad and goes on about boys a lot, gives me shivers to read it. I destroyed most of it the other day and just kept a few poems from those days that mean something to me. I had kept all my poetry from then until now, but most of it before 2006 was total rubbish. Here I’m going to give a shout out to my high school drama teacher Mrs Island who encouraged the angry loud mothered fifteen year old Sarah to try reading. I had read as a child, school forced you to read LOL, but seriously some of my fondest child hood memories are of reading with my mum and my Nanma (grandmother) but somewhere in the self-absorbed ‘oh look at them boys’ teenage years I’d forgotten that love. So one day I’m having a conversation with Mrs Island about Wuthering heights (no idea how it started) and she said to me “If you could read that book, I’d be proud” so I did (she had spent the last four years trying to teach me and knew what a proper little beast I could be). So I read it, damn it was hard to read for a fifteen year old of my abilities, but I did and it’s always stuck with me – stuck with me as in I’d found my love of reading again (which has no doubt improved my writing and spelling), but also the book has stuck with me because of the freaky nasty f*#King characters and their freaky mean ways, yeah and there was the undying love part – I’ve never read it again, I still have a copy of and might read it again one day.
I really am still a very bad speller and writer, but at least I have improved, YAY me.
Damn did any of that make sense?
Oh oh oh so I tweeted Miguel Maestre about how I love him (on the living room TV) & his recipes lol and he re-tweeted it, made me smile, cause he must of actually read it to bother re-tweeting it lol I find him kinda adorable – wish he’s come cook for me 😛
Remember to smile people, it makes you live longer!!!!