Tag Archives: Friends

In Which I Eat Elephant Ears

4 Apr

You may recall my post about elephant ears and what a disappointment (of sorts) it was to discover that they were not, in fact, mammoth trophies but were…well, if you don’t know, you’ll have to read the post for yourself.

Now I discover there is another kind of elephant ears: the kind you can eat! The best kind.

Don’t worry, I might not be vegetarian (shudder) but even I would balk at a pachyderm pot roast.

No, my lovely American friend Laurie, who blogs at laurieanichols, sent a surprise parcel in the post – a tin of elephant ears: homemade biscuits, so-called because of their shape.

DSCN2833

Sadly, the Hub has just been diagnosed as diabetic, so he couldn’t have any; Spud doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so he had a taste, approved of them, but declined to eat any more; Tory Boy lives elsewhere; and I watch my weight these days.  

I value my friendships more than my figure, however, so I manfully swallowed as many elephant ears as I could.

DSCN2836

At the risk of offending all of my other friends who have fed me homemade biscuits before, I have to apologise and say: these were the best biscuits I have ever tasted.

I will always remember them fondly.  And so will my waist.  Thank you, Laurie!

Sit There For The Presents

4 Oct

In all the excitement of Monday’s Big Birthday, I forgot to nag the Hub into taking photos.  He did take one of me at the end of the day, exhausted, on the couch; but that’s still in his camera and I’m not allowed to touch his camera because pictures have a habit of disappearing forever (and not just the fat ones).

As I don’t have photos of the Great Present Opening Ceremony (Subtitle: Gimme Gimme Gimme), I took a collective photo of all the gifts I had to hand.  I don’t know how to do that clever thing with lines and numbers and writing to show who bought what, so you’ll have to do without, I’m afraid.

The Birthday Morning Bundle

The Birthday Morning Bundle

In case you were thinking, ‘At last!  The birthday madness is over!’ I’d better explain that at the bottom of the picture is a laminated note from my friend, Louise, which promises me an afternoon at the theatre, watching Seven Brides For Seven Brothers; followed by food. She also supplied that rather large box of Maltesers.  Have I mentioned I have the best friends?

Here’s a list of the pressies, in the order in which they appear:

  • Flowers
  • Almost all of the Dr Who series
  • Notebook & Pen
  • One of those Halogen Oven thingies
  • Silver Celtic Cross
  • Hot Chocolate Maltesers, thoughtfully provided by Spud; who knows how much I miss the real thing and who thought they might be a good substitute
  • Fart Machine Mug, thoughtfully provided by Tory Boy, my ex-son
  • Large Box of Maltesers
  • Spare Ring
  • Empty Box, home of my new Eternity Ring, which was at the jewellers, being re-sized
  • £30 Amazon Gift Voucher
  • Theatre Details
  • £20 Nando’s Gift Card

Didn’t I do well?  This lot was on top of all the other generous gifts I’ve enjoyed in the run up to my birthday.

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE
who so generously donated to the cause, making fifty a big deal in the best possible way.

So, to recap: my birthday celebrations began in July and will cease at the end of October.  So much for all those celebrities with their week-long trips to exotic isles!  Four trips to the theatre and corresponding meals out over a period of four months is waaaaaaaay better.  I LOVE turning fifty!

Viv's gift.  I was wearing it when I took the photo and I forgot to include it.

Viv’s gift. I was wearing it when I took the photo and I forgot to include it.

Good news!  Looking for the photos of my gifts, I came across the pic the Hub took; he loaded it onto the computer in a pre-emptive strike against the nagging he knew was coming his way.  Good ol’ Hub.  Though not as ol’ as me.

I cain't party hearty no more; I'm OLD.

I cain’t party hearty no more; I’m OLD.

In case you were wondering: This post’s title is a slight re-write of the only thing I remember from reading Laurie Lee’s Cider With Rosie when I was at school.  Laurie starts school aged five and the teacher tells him to ‘Sit there for the present.’  Laurie waited all day but no present ever came; he was gutted; I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever read (Twilight hadn’t been written yet).

 

The Seven Stages Of Hair

28 Sep

I have to say, I love turning fifty!  I’ve been celebrating since July and it’s not over yet – it’s the birthday that keeps on giving.

My lovely friend Christine told me to keep last Saturday morning free.  She collected me at 8:30 and walked me up to her hairdresser’s, Hair @ 42 on Bloom Street in Edgeley, where I had a cut and blow and a manicure!  How annoying that I had showered in honour of our date.

Right now, Christine is on a cruise, celebrating her own birthday.  As she won’t be here for my birthday, spoiling me was the least she could do, I’m sure you’ll agree.  Christine knows I haven’t been to a hairdresser for about six years; and I’ve never had a manicure.  I have the best friends!

The idea was that we do the whole thing together – me for my birthday; Christine for her cruise – but she couldn’t get matching appointments.  She waited in the salon, however, denying boredom and taking barked-out camera direction from me, for your delectation.

Janet the Hairdresser was lovely but I’m not sure she was a real hairdresser because she wasn’t at all intimidating and she seemed genuinely interested in what I wanted done to my hair.  She was most obliging, as well, stopping to allow Christine to take a picture whenever I gave the word.  When it’s time for my next hair cut in six years’ time, that’s where I’ll be going.

The hair part was fun but the manicure was funner.  Christine knows Alison the manicurist well and we had a girly, giggly session, the likes of which I haven’t had since my teens.  I can’t tell you what was said because what happens in the nail room stays in the nail room; but I can tell you that I went to the toilet before we started (just as well, with all the giggling that followed) and I was so enthralled with my hair, admiring it in the mirror, wondering if I could ever reproduce the style, that I forgot to wash my hands.  Fortunately, I realised before I touched anything, and went back to do it.  I don’t think that has happened since I was a toddler.

Bet you wish that information had stayed in the nail room, don’t you?

The Seven Stages Of Hair

*

Disgust

(On my part, when I worked it out and then had to say it out loud)

You'll have to lose 2 1/2 inches if you want it in good condition. Six years!  Tch!

You’ll have to lose 2 1/2 inches if you want it in good condition.
Six years! Tch!

Resolution

Just do it!

Just do it!

Anxiety

Will the Hub ever speak to me again?

Will the Hub ever speak to me again?

Acceptance

Take the picture, Christine: I don't mind looking stupid.

Take the picture, Christine: I don’t mind looking stupid.

Delight

I'm being pampered!  I LOVE going to the hairdresser's!

I’m being pampered! I LOVE going to the hairdresser’s!

Vanity

Get me, all posh!

Get me, all posh!

Gratitude

Christine&Tilly Friends 4EVR

Christine&Tilly
Friends 4EVR

 

If You’re In Stockport Today, Join Us

14 Sep

Come to St Matthew’s Fun Day!

I’ll be running a poetry workshop on behalf of Stockport Writers;
it’s okay if you pretend not to see me.

image of fun day poster

 

I Stink Like Joey Tribbiani

5 Aug

Image from tumblr*

*Don’t those people know how to spell?

I have reached a point in my life – boys, you may want to look away now – when <whisper it> certain changes have begun to happen.

They are not particularly pleasant, though some make the men in my house run for cover, but they are not, so far, too dreadful.

Apart from one thing, which no one ever told me might happen (everyone run for cover now) – I stink.  I stink like Joey Tribbiani after three days’ fishing, no showers, fifteen hours’ sleep-catch-up in his clothes (I’m re-watching Friends).  I stink so bad, Charlton Heston offered me the use of his shower.

Friends (real friends; not fictional ones.  I’m menopausal, not crazy.  Though I’ve heard it’s hard for husbands to tell the difference) give me empathy and advice; my family give me a wide berth; Dictionary.com weighed in with today’s Word of the Day to explain what’s happening: it’s called hyperhidrosis, aka excessive sweating (I accidentally typed ‘excessive seating’.  I hear weight gain is another symptom).

But here’s the weird part – I only sweat in ONE ARMPIT.  I only stink in one armpit.

What’s that about?

The same armpit also burns in a mild way when I apply deodorant; though that may come from rubbing the pit raw in an effort to remove the stench.

Only half my body is affected by the change.  Is that why they call it perimenopause?

Male readers, I suggest you unsubscribe now.  The next five years are not going to be pretty.  And it’s all your fault.  Take the Hub with you while you’re at it.  

He’s begging you.

 

I’ve got a golden ticket

19 Jun

The Laughing Housewife:

Here’s my blogging friend, Kate Shrewsday. She writes fascinating articles linking weird stuff like toilets and ice cream (she may not have done that one, but it’s the kind of thing she would do).

She has the chance to go for a Britain-wide walk with her kids and dog but she needs your votes to do it.

Please take a moment to read the post and click the link to vote for her.

I promise NOT to eat a Malteser for every vote you cast (I’m on a diet and I need the motivation).

Thanks!

Originally posted on Kate Shrewsday:

Let’s just, for a moment, overlook the fact that Grandpa, in that classic first make of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, is not the one who has won the golden ticket.

He’s happy.

In fact, the ticket winner is little Charlie. Cheer-up Charlie. Charlie, against whom the odds were stacked so high they must surely have crushed him. Charlie, who stood for honest-to-goodness integrity in the face of gluttony, avarice and greed. Whilst others got their parents and promoters to spend outrageous sums for the one thing they could not have automatically, Charlie relied on fate to bring the golden ticket to him.

But we all join Grandpa in being elated. In incredulity that finally, just perhaps, the tide of unfortunate events might be about to change.

And of course, for Grandpa, and for Charlie, life was about to alter forever.

This does not happen in real life.

View original 275 more words

I Thought About Writing This Post But…

18 Jun

When Janet met Tilly

Photograph  © janetsnotebook.com

Daily Prompt: Shape Up or Ship Out

Write a letter to the personality trait you like least, convincing it to shape up or ship out. Be as threatening, theatrical, or thoroughly charming as is necessary to get the job done.

*

Dear Procrastination,

How are you?  You haven’t replied to my previous three emails so I don’t know.

You need to get your act together and start writing some posts about the visit of your blogger friend Janet.  Not only has she written nine posts about her time with us, she has also compiled them into a fabulous, free ebook which exposes the dirty underbelly and large overbelly of life in Tillybudland.  She puts you to shame.

She even included new photographs!  The one of us in an old pinny and yellow hairnet is rather fetching, if you like your unflattering pictures in multicolours (I know I do).

If you want to read or download the exposé ebook, just visit Janet’s Notebook.

Lots of love, 

Your Better Self

PS Sorry this is so late; I’ve been meaning to write it for ages but never got around to it.

 

Old Friends Are Coming To See Us Later

15 Jun

I’m making a roast dinner today.

Yummy!

It’s almost worth having visitors.

Roast chicken, the most commonly eaten white meat

Roast chicken, the most commonly eaten white meat (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Go here to join in Six Word Saturday

 

Lynn Noxin, This Post Is For You

12 Jun

Time to catch up on a few Daily Prompts.

Draft a post with three parts, each unrelated to the another, but create a common thread between them by including the same item — an object, a symbol, a place — in each part.

I went one better and did it in four parts, with four disparate questions:

  • Normal is as normal does
  • A review
  • World hunger eradicated
  • A party

The object: a friend.

*

Is being “normal” — whatever that means to you — a good thing, or a bad thing? Neither?

‘Normal.’  I’ve heard of it.  Can’t say I know what it’s like.

A true story: a friend and I were chatting.  I consider her a left-leaning hippy. She considers my a right-wing…well, let’s not use any swear words on a family blog, shall we?

We were chatting about the nature of eccentricity.  I asked her if she thought I was eccentric and she replied yes.  My face fell.

She asked me if I thought she was eccentric and I replied no.  Her face fell.

I was too polite to tell the truth.  I hope she was, too.

Normal is over-rated.  If I was normal, I’d have three followers and no five-day visits to and from complete strangers who become best friends.

*

Write a review of your life — or the life of someone close to you — as if it were a movie or a book.

I have a lovely friend who is a left-leaning hippy.  She moved away.  Pity.  Next to her, I look normal.

*

If you could get all the nutrition you needed in a day with a pill — no worrying about what to eat, no food preparation — would you do it?

This has to be the dumbest question yet.

Of course I would.  No cooking, ever?

Duh.

*

Plan the ultimate celebration for the person you’re closest to, and tell us about it. Where is it? Who’s there? What’s served? What happens?

I have this lovely, left-leaning hippy friend who promised to visit me last Easter. I’m still waiting.  I’m sure she’ll arrive soon, because I have a whole party prepared for her…my lounge; me; I’ve even prepared a delicious dinner of pill.

*

Lull

20 Dec
English: Alan Rickman at a Hudson Union Societ...

Alan Rickman. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Things are winding down before they gear up again.  Most of the Christmas shopping is done.  Half of the Christmas cleaning is done.  The bulk of the wrapping so far is done.  I’m waiting to do my fresh bits shop at the weekend and for my two house guests to arrive on Sunday; then the fever starts in earnest on Christmas Eve.

English: Liam Neeson at the TIFF premiere of T...

Liam Neeson (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Friends came to my house last night, banished the menfolk to the bedrooms, ate pizza and crisps, drank a lot of wine and ogled various male actors in Love Actually.  One likes Karl (so pretty, we never got beyond his character’s name); another likes Alan Rickman (go figure); the third tussled with me for Colin Firth until she spotted Liam Neeson.  I took Hugh Grant as a bonus. None of us had drunk enough to ask for Bill Nighy.

Deutsch: Bill Nighy bei der Valkyrie-Premiere ...

Bill Nighy (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had a good time but my head is banging this morning.  Not from alcohol – I’m such a lightweight, I get drunk just on the excitement of being in the same room as other people who are drinking.  One glass of wine and I’m hogging the karaoke machine; two, and I’m fast asleep in a corner.  

It was the late night and not enough sleep that had me fighting Spud for the paracetamol before he left for school: he also had a late night; he waited up to eat the leftovers.  I suspect that Toby also ate leftovers on the sly – he came downstairs this morning to throw up by the back door and went back to bed without asking for his breakfast.  As he is a dog who hassles Spud to get a move on in the mornings because he knows he will be fed as soon as Spud has left, I was all for calling an ambulance.

The banging has been interspersed with intermittent ringing.  Tory Boy phoned for a chat.  Ninety minutes later, he fobbed me and my sweaty ear off because he was on his way out to try to find a greasy spoon serving a full English breakfast. He lives darn sarf; he didn’t hold out much hope.  Southerners just don’t do greasy little cafés full of germs and tasty sausages like we northerners.

Colin Firth at the Nanny McPhee London premiere

Colin Firth  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had just come off the phone when my friend called to tell me she found her lost keys.  Her husband dropped her off here last night and the Hub took her home because her husband was on an early shift.  Pity she had to wake him up to let her in.  Her keys were in his car.  Then my brother phoned to talk about THIS SECTION HAS BEEN CENSORED DUE TO THE DELICATE NATURE OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT EXCHANGES.

English: Hugh Grant at a charity fundraiser he...

Hugh Grant (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I spent the morning watching a bit of Johnny Lee Miller in Elementary and then trawled through old posts to find something of interest to tell you.  I’ve got nothing.  December 2009 it was all snow.  December 2010 it was all snow and the worst head cold I’ve ever had.  December 2011 it was all the worst head cold I’ve ever had.  I know September 2012 I wrote about the worst head cold I’ve ever had.  Either the germs are mutating each year to attack me with more virulence, or I’m a bit of a drama queen.

When I’ve lain down on my chaise longue for a while in my flowing robe, and rested with lavender cloths over my eyes, we’ll talk about it.

Dutch Treat

19 Dec
Dutch Treat Club - [cover drawing?] (LOC)

Dutch Treat Club – [cover drawing?] (LOC) (Photo credit: The Library of Congress)

Dutch Treat or, The Kind People You Meet In Blogging.

*

Knock knock!

Who’s there?

The courier.

The courier who?

The courier who’s bringing you a parcel and would like to get home for his dinner after a long day of traffic jams, bad weather and suspicious people who won’t open the door and take this *%^£! parcel off my hands so I can get back to my own wife and family.  We celebrate Christmas too, you know; they’d like me to be there.

An unexpected parcel arrives.

I open it (obviously).

Photo by Best DSC!

Who sent me a notebook?

A broken notebook, because I hear rattling?

No, wait!  It’s even better than an electronic gadget – it’s…food!

Photo by Best DSC!

Dutch food, from my kind and generous blogging friend, KiwiDutch. Please visit her blog, because it’s cheaper than sending a ‘thank you’ card.

We have eaten the perishables (yummy) and saved the rest for Christmas.

Thank you for the lovely surprise, KiwiDutch!

thank you note for every language

thank you note for every language (Photo credit: woodleywonderworks)

And while I’m thanking people:

Viv’s Home!

4 Dec

I would like to thank you all for the good wishes you sent to Viv, even though many of you don’t know her.

I’m happy to report that she’s back home, blogging, poeming and commenting. This is what she had to say:

I am overwhelmed with all the support and good wishes. Thank you all from the bottom of my newly repaired heart, which is very happy to be home at last.  

If you would like to read the story of her mishap with a hospital gown, hop on over to her blog.

Welcome back, Viv!  I missed you.

O…oohhhh

9 Nov

I see what I did there…

Gremlin

Gremlin (Photo credit: inkognitoh)

Breathe easy, the gremlin lives.

It was, uh, me.  I did it.  It’s a fair cop.

Seems I tried to add a new page instead of add a new post <blush>

I wiped out my own text and new page pages don’t have the same features as new post pages.  Whoops.  Sorry about that.

It’s not the first problem I’ve had with my electric life this week.  A good friend sent me an Amazon gift certificate for a poetry book for my Kindle.  I had real trouble getting the book because I did it through my Kindle at first and it came off my credit card so then I reversed it and tried to buy it online and it wouldn’t let me because it said I had already bought it.  

Cover of "Kindle Wireless Reading Device,...

Cover via Amazon

Then I spent a day fretting about how to use the gift voucher and sending emails to Amazon whose reply was useless.  This morning, I took another look at the Amazon email about the voucher and noticed a handy little button, ‘Apply gift certificate to your account’.  Did that first and then purchased the book and now it should be on my Kindle.

Small panic break.
*
It’s not there!
 
Small think break.
*
It might appear if I turn the wifi on…
*
Ta-da!
(
I’m such a Dodo.
*

I may be out of action for the next few days while I punish myself for losing good text.  Actually, for the purposes of this post it was great text, the best text I’ve ever written: witty, erudite, informative.  

Now it’s gone forever.  Remember – I did say that no one messes with my blog posts and gets away with it.  I’m scrupulously fair, if technologically stupid.

Somebody find me a gremlin and a whip.  One of us is going to suffer today, that’s for sure.  

It’s All Facebook’s Fault

7 Oct
Bad Mood Today?

Bad Mood Today? (Photo credit: Frank Wuestefeld)

I wrote this on Facebook yesterday:

Writing workshop this morning; eldest son home this afternoon; Dr Who tonight. Can this day get any better?!!

(Without the italics, of course; Facebook seems to be averse to correct punctuation.  I don’t understand that(.

My friend posted this reply:

Workshop – awesome. Your son visiting – epic. Dr Who – not on until Christmas. Gutted :-(

I was gutted, too.  She compensated by:

  1. Giving me a gift of cute post-it notes – so that I could write cute love notes to the Hub, because we ‘like that sort of thing.’  She doesn’t know me very well.  I got the present so that my ‘birthday week doesn’t have to end yet.’  She knows me so well.  She also gave me a box of Maltesers.  I think I love her.
  2. Giving me a lift to the workshop, which was forty miles away.   Thank goodness I had the sense to book her on it when I booked my place.

I’d forgotten that British TV now does that stupid season break thing.  America, I love you, but what’s with that?  Why can’t your TV shows act in a civilised manner and air until they are finished?  Lucky for you I’ve got extra Maltesers and I wrote nine poems yesterday, or I’d be a tad grumpy.

Now I am grumpy – what an irritating word ‘tad’ is.  I can’t believe I used it.

Time for a quick Malteser fix, I think.

Malteser

Malteser (Photo credit: Olaf_S)

…peel off the chocolate…allow the malt to tease my taste buds…swig of Earl Grey…aaahh!  My universe has righted itself.

That was the moment Hub chose to break it to me that eldest son was not coming home yesterday (I hadn’t noticed, being high on chocolate and poetry).

Someone pass me a dictionary; my mood is a tad violent….

Have You Met Pseu? I Have!

17 Sep

I had a visitor on Friday, the lovely Pseu.  Although she takes a mean photograph, she is a little camera-shy.  However, she agreed to allow a rare photograph to be taken, as proof that she was here:

She came, as all good visitors ought, bearing gifts:

Really thoughtful gifts, prettily arranged in a basket:

  • Writing Magazine, because I write
  • Earl Grey loose tea, because I drink Earl Grey tea
  • A strainer, because I…well, let’s not go there
  • A bottle of South African wine, which is where all wines given to me should come from
  • A bag of Maltesers, because anyone visiting me without them is refused admittance
  • And a delicate vase, for which she omitted to bring delicate flowers, but I let that pass.

As I said, truly thoughtful gifts.

I gave her a piece of paper and a cardboard box.

That reminds me of when our Anglican church was based at the local Methodist church for a couple of years: when we moved on to our present home, the congregation of St John’s commissioned a beautiful banner of half a rainbow, to match one that we had, of the other half of the rainbow.

We gave them a tin of biscuits.

&

Pseu was a delightful guest, if tall; and we had a lovely afternoon together.  I forced myself to make lunch:

And I even cleaned up, in her honour:

She arrived as I was washing the toilet, but I’m not showing you a photo of that. Unless there’s a demand for it?

I’m pretty sure I remembered to wash my hands before serving the food.

*

I interviewed Pseu a couple of weeks ago, and I saved it for today, so you could share in the fun.

TLH:  What’s the weirdest request you have made/someone has made of you?

PSEU:  That’s a trade secret.

TLH:  This interview might be a little duller than I had envisioned…  How many colours has your hair been?

PSEU:  When I was little I was blond. It didn’t last long. By the time I went to school I had dark brown hair. Since then I have been darker brown. I tried henna once in the 70’s but it didn’t change my colour at all. Occasionally I’ve had low lights – hints of copper, little glints of gold. They never looked natural, and I’m not a great one for artifice.  Maybe next time I should come back as higher maintenance?  Currently I’m going silver at the edges, so my hairdresser kindly combs a little colour to match my own. So not very exciting there, hey?

TLH: Well at least it’s an answer…  How do you feel about misplaced apostrophes?*

PSEU:  I read Lynne Truss’s Eats, shoots and leaves and agreed with her every step of the way.

TLH:  The right answer.  It’s why I let you through my front door.  Can you do a foreign accent?

PSEU:  I’m pretty good at a Welsh accent, boyo.

TLH:  Will you share an embarrassing moment?

PSEU:  When I first met my Cyclomaniac, he wasn’t a cyclomaniac, but a medical student.  He had a red rose delivered to the ward where I was working as a student nurse.. it was Valentine’s day, but he didn’t realise I had days off.  So a few days later, when I came back on duty the whole ward knew about my rose and presented it to me, in front of the desk, so everyone could see.  I didn’t even know who it was from and took an hour or more to stop blushing.

TLH:  Sweet!  I’ve got one like that at home.  Annoying, aren’t they?  Tell us something about yourself you haven’t yet shared in your blog.

PSEU:  I passed my driving test when I was about 26 because no-one does district nursing on a bicycle any more, and it was about time I got my act together.  I wanted to get out of ward nursing.  It took two attempts to pass.  I had given up on learning at 17, without even trying the test, as I found my father very difficult to learn from.  I nearly gave up at 26.  I’m glad I didn’t. (Nowadays I would have reported the instructor for intimidation or harassment, or something, but we didn’t do that in the 80s).

TLH: What are you reading at the moment?

PSEU:  I’m currently reading several things…including September’s Good Housekeeping (in order to try out a few new recipes), the latest issue of Prole - there’s some good stuff in this magazine (and I’m looking to see if maybe I could write well enough to submit something!).  I’m also reading Dark Matter, a ghost story, by Michelle Paver (a gift, and not my usual style of book) and The Children’s Book by AS Byatt, (though not progressing very well with it).  In the queue: Engleby by Sebastian Faulks, Temples of Delight by Barbara Trapido and Brief Lives by Anita Brookner. Well that’s just a few in the queue.  I have a propensity to buy more books than I can read…often in second hand book shops.  My read books are in alphabetical order, in a bookcase.  My unread books are not (though my spice rack is).

TLH:  What would you give up rather than your computer?

PSEU:  I’d give up TV, but DON’T take away the radio. (Please).

TLH:  Could you give up blogging?

PSEU:  I feel I’m a little addicted, so it would be hard.

TLH:  Tell us why we should read your blog.

PSEU:  My blog is a hotchpotch of glimpses. I love taking photos, especially close-ups. I like to write and the blog is an outlet for that, and I love the interaction with those who come to visit and to make comments.

Photograph  ©copyright Pseu at Pseu’s blog.

Not a dull interview after all; and I hope it tempts you to visit Pseu at her blog, where you will see some fabulous photography, at the very least, and read some interesting poetry and snippets about her life.

Thank you, dear Pseu, for the interview, the gifts and, best of all, the visit.

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