Many bloggers at this time are writing uplifting posts full of self-betterment and resolutions. On this topic I will only say that I’ve resolved to be more tolerant and gossip less. Whether I will stick to this is a moot point because when I boasted my virtuous resolution to a friend, she said: “Don’t do it, you’ll become bland!”
Now to random and pictorial waffling…
When I was trying to escape a pool party on the weekend, a friend sent me this:
Do you ever have parties that you’re obliged to attend because you ought to be neighbourly? But where you only know the hosts and you can’t exactly latch onto them as they’ll be very busy hosting, and you have no desire to meet their hordes of friends, especially not cavorting around the new pool?
Do you mix with your neighbours socially or are happy with a quick smile and wave, over the fence or in the stairwell of your apartment?
I’m not sure I have the hang of this blogging caper. I may have mentioned before that I am
laconic verbose by nature, but the trouble is, when I am writing for public consumption, I over-analyse and over-draft…OVER-THINK.
I have a horror of being boring. I should be desensitised because I’m a teacher…I am paid to bore people. But only teenagers, not unsuspecting adults. I don’t take it personally when I notice 30 pairs of eyes glazing over…closing. English is the ONLY compulsory subject in Year 12, no one can drop my subject, which is good as it gives me power – leverage to encourage study – but bad because I bore a lot more teenagers than other teachers. Not everyone likes analysing poems.
Despite my fear not to be, as Poppet calls it “cringing”, I am going on with my blog into 2014. She is a severe critic is Poppet, with the casual brutality of youth. She regularly tells me, “Old people are cringing on social media.” (By ‘old people’, she means anyone over 32).
Why do you blog? Is a compulsion or just fun?
Hen News: The new ex-battery cage chickens have settled in, finally. They’re getting fat and fluffy, they’ve started laying and are being pecked less by the older hens – the Mean Girls. A chook house is a tough place – a microcosm of the school yard.
Dog News: Small is ageing and she’s turned into a mini-tyrant who requires her own personal lady-in-waiting. Every moment I am at home, I wait on her – carrying her upstairs and downstairs, tempting her with tasty morsels – enslaved. If I don’t, she whimpers CONSTANTLY and – if her medieval serf doesn’t immediately spring into action – this whimpering rises to a crescendo of yelping. She looks adorable…don’t be fooled.
Big is the opposite of Small – undemanding, laid-back. It sounds a bit creepy and inappropriate but if he were human, I’d date him 🙂
Do you have a demanding pet (or human) in your family?
I saw a film yesterday and it was a little contrived, a touch pretentious, but there was a good line or two in it. This one made me think about perspective and our individual view of reality.
Is your life close to the one you imagined?