What time do you write?

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It’s interesting to think what is the optimum time to write….?

I find that I’m usually busy in the day, but sometimes have a bit of time like now,  to write. But the normal time I write is in the evening. Usually when the TV is on and I’m not particularly engaged in the programme.  Sometimes I find myself listening to the television with one ear and my husband with the other whilst typing here. My brain can be quite scrambled when I’m doing that.

At the moment I’m listening to a TV programme called countdown when contestants choose a series of vowels and consonants and try and make a word up to 9 letters long. The longest word wins the round. A bit like scrabble really. The other game they play is a mixture of 6 small and large numbers and they must use arithmatic to get to a random number that the computer generates. Each game is only 30 seconds long…….

So getting back to when I write, sometimes I’m racing to publish something before midnight. It’s become a bit of a challenge to myself. I don’t really know why I do it, it may be because I’m quite competitive and I like to try and keep my writing limited to the same day. I guess I treat it as a bit of a deadline.

My other habit is writing late at night or early in the morning when I can’t sleep……as long as its not too boring.

Books

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Book avalanche ….

I once had one book.

That wasn’t enough,

Then I had two

One too few?

So I got three

Which I read in a tree.

Soon I had four

How many more?

Five or six, a feast

No seven at least,

Enough for a shelf?

With my twelfth….

Once I had forty

I felt rather naughty.

Just a few more

Came through the door…

Once I read paperbacks

Now I’m  on hardbacks,

My addiction is growing,

The books they are flowing.

Trying to count ’em

How can I stop them?

Over one Thousand?…..

No space for me and

My cats.. .

 

Copper Tears

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Now there once were giant people throughout the lands. The Southern Giants were strong and smart, they were made of copper and bronze and shone in the sunlight. But the Northern Giants were also strong, and as they lived in the winter lands they were made of ice as hard as Iron. They could breath ice and snow when they fought. Because of this they were known as the Ice Giants.

After many years of war, Ralf, King of the Southern giants went to fight with them. He knew that if he did not win his lands would be forfeit and his wife would be killed by his enemies.

Lora, his wife, was scared when he told her his plans, but she knew he would have to go to save their fellow giants.

She watched him leave and cried tears which fell into her lap and made a huge pool of liquid copper, each tear making a ripple many feet high.

As she waited she thought she heard him calling her, she stood up and the copper spilled onto the ground, making a lake of copper at the base of the mountains where they lived.

Meanwhile in the North the Giants fought each other to a standstill. Ralf was winning, but as the battle came to an end one Ice Giant hit a fatal blow against him. He was dying but he hit back and felled the last Ice Giant.

His wife foresaw his death and started to weep again, she could not bear his loss. Her tears flowed over the land. Then the wind strengthened from the North. Forcing Lora to stand and start to run from its freezing grip. She was so tall that her tears fell from such a great height that they froze solid and shattered as they hit the ground.

It is said that there is a land in the south where her tears sit like trees in a forest, they are so many. And if you are far away you see the autumn colours of their copper and bronzes glinting in the sunlight.

Spoonerism

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Definition from Wikipedia :

“Spoonerism

spoonerism is an error in speech in which corresponding consonantsvowels, or morphemes are switched (see Metathesis) between two words in a phrase.[1][2] These are named after the Oxford don and ordained minister William Archibald Spooner, who was famous for doing this.

An example is saying “The Lord is a shoving leopard” instead of “The Lord is a loving shepherd.” While spoonerisms are commonly heard as slips of the tongue, and getting one’s words in a tangle, they can also be used intentionally as a play on words.”

I only mention this as I was talking to the cat this morning and said “you’ve got pappy haws this morning”. Of course I meant “happy paws” but it struck me how often you can get words mixed up ….

I don’t know how much I will be online over the next couple of days, so I will say Yappy Hew Near! Or Nappy Yew Hear!

The importance of selpling

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Can you see it? It took me a while  This van is parked outside on most days but I just spotted the mistake today.

I’m equally guilty. I try and make sure all my posts are proofread and not to rely on spellchecker. But I know I go wrong and my grammar and punctuation can be bad.

I guess if you are tired or hurried it’s easy to make mistakes. The problem and question is what do you do if your work is printed wrongly. Do you notice it? Leave it or get it redone?

I still want to find out what a buidlier is?

 

Holly and Ivy

Two beautiful winter friends, Holly is more dramatic, with a spiky personality. She has red lips and a sharp smile. Ivy is more introverted, a clinging persona who hides hidden depths. Ivy will climb up the social ladder and suppress her rivals.

Outdoor types, the girls are often seen around town together, usually in the winter months, and at the mid winter festival where they team up with pale mistletoe who hangs around with them trying to suck up to them.

Often seen at Christmas parties together it is always Holly that gets her claws into the office staff. Never one to miss some fun, Ivy likes to trail around town with Holly.

Meanwhile the baby narcissii and crocuses sleep in their beds waiting for warmer weather

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The tiger who hid

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This is a half painted picture which I thought could be turned into a story.

The Tiger who hid is based on the green man myth, but instead of a human face I started to paint a cat, but with leaves hiding part of its face. I also thought of the tiger in the jungle painting by Henri Rousseau? (not sure if that’s the correct name).

I imagine the tiger protecting itself not only by the camouflage of its stripes. But also by using leaves and branches to hide. So that it becomes indistinguishable from the background. I can see the idea in my mind, the book would be full of illustrations. The Tiger would be kind and would persuade people in the end that its family should live. I don’t know if this makes sense. But it might be fun to try and put together.