WARNING – readers of a nervous disposition may find this post distasteful. No sex, nudity or rude words but… I was brought up with the worthy Scottish principle of “frugality”. My Granny and my mother used to repeat “Wilful waste makes woeful want” and then launch into a maudlin poem. So I’ve been conditioned … More When “frugal” becomes “spew-gal”
When I was still a pig-tailed lass An end of term report From my kind of St Trinian’s Just made me swear and snort. It caused my Ma to chortle Because she thought it fair “We feel that little Ailsa Is not a good team player” Well that’s a load of poppycock Or so … More Maverick
I am understandably obsessed by words at the moment and this morning under the shower (far away from my notebook and pen, which caused me anguish) I reflected on how words, are born, evolve, change completely and die out, rather like insects. Not even big important words like gay. Words that can get you locked … More Therapy Thtorieth 3 – My Word!
Memory is the most illusive and frustrating thing in the world. It is an all-five senses experience and so difficult to recapture. There are triggers, of course, some say smell, that French guy (yeah, I know – here comes Mr. Stroke Ed again, stealing my library) and his cakes – madeleines (funny how I can … More Therapy Thtorieth – Day 2
Just as people who weren’t born when the Pythons began, all know “You were lucky” from the Four Yorkshire-men Sketch, say the name Joyce Grenfell and the instant reply is “George…don’t do that.” It’s rather sad that such a multi-talented lady should now be remembered for only one of her pieces, and not the best … More George…don’t do that.
I was prompted to share this by a comment that came up on FB the other day and I thought it might amuse. If you haven’t read How To Steal An Elephant then this post may come as a surprise to you. I’ll make a cup of coffee if you want to go back … More Pit Stop