December 22, 2012

Newsflash!!! 

The world didn't end!!

Now there's a surprise.

Image borrowed from here.

Serious Soapbox

This wasn't intended to be a blog post, merely a reply on one of my status updates on Facebook. Last night I posted a short statement on my Facebook page, which was as follows:

"Another senseless shooting spree at a primary school over the pond. Twenty-seven lives lost, eighteen of them little more than babies. Love & sympathy to all those affected by this atrocity. The lives lost is sickening enough, but one of the worst things is knowing that this will happen again, when another sicko decides it's time to go on a rampage. All the love, sympathy and prayers are not going to bring back those innocent victims. Cut the crap & stop the debate on whether it is your 'right' to own a firearm if you choose. Civilians shouldn't be allowed guns, end of debate. It won't stop this from happening again, but the risk will be greatly reduced, and if even one innocent child is saved by this, surely it is worth sacrificing the 'right' to own something that is lethal in the wrong hands."

I rarely post a serious status update. I rarely get on a soapbox and 'preach'. But when I got home yesterday, my FB feed was, understandably, full of status updates about what happened yesterday. While nearly every single status expressed shock, support and sympathy for the victims, the majority ALSO contained reasons why guns should or shouldn't be considered a constitutional 'right' to own or not.

I don't pretend to know the gun legislation of all (or any) countries, and I don't pretend to understand the ins and outs of the constitutional rights of American citizens. But what I DO understand is that FAR too many people start throwing political arguments around in the aftermaths of these horrible situations, and it makes my blood boil.

The thing that really got my back up was seeing x amount of people churning out the 'guns don't kill people, people do' argument (or various forms of it). I'm sorry, but no. You can play on words as much as you like, but while this sentiment is technically true, the simple fact is you can't shoot people unless you have a gun.

Sadly, we all know that this won't be the last time that something like this happens. And it's not restricted to America, it happens the world over. The inescapable truth is that while we all proclaim outrage and disgust whenever something like this occurs, we have become cynically desensitised to it. While we are fighting to keep our rights, we are forgetting the very real consequences of them.

The truth is that the majority of these tragedies occur when an unbalanced person loses control and proceeds to do something that would normally be as alien to them as it is to anyone else. It is also true that an inanimate object cannot be blamed, just the person who is wielding it.

But you cannot argue against logic. Twenty-seven people would not have been shot yesterday if guns were not so easily accessible. While everyone was debating their constitutional right to own a gun in America, somewhere in China a similar event unfolded. Another unbalanced person entered a school with an intent to hurt a large number of people, children included. This person, however, did not have a gun.  His intentions were clearly much the same as the shooter in Connecticut, but his choice of spreading chaos was to stab as many people as he could. This event was just as horrific as the shootings in Connecticut, but with one highly significant difference. There were no fatalities. More than twenty children (and one adult), will have nightmares for the rest of their lives probably, but they are alive. Not so those poor victims in Connecticut.

There will always be mentally ill people in the world. There will always be people who suddenly, sometimes without any kind of warning, lose control and temporarily become a killing machine. This will never be controlled. But we can at least attempt to control the weapon of choice that these people use during their flights of madness.

While everyone debates over whether they should have the right to own a gun or not, the consequences are buried beneath political rants. As I said in my original status update, cut the crap and end the debate. Civilians should not be able to own a gun. As a weapon, it is one of the most destructive. Take it out of their hands, and an unbalanced person has fewer options to spread their murderous intent. It will not STOP their murderous intent, but the consequences just might not be so severe, as the events in China yesterday clearly demonstrated.

There are those of you who will say that making guns illegal will not stop people from getting one, and you would be right. Making something illegal does not stop people from obtaining it. But it makes it much more difficult, and that is surely a very big step in the right direction.

Maybe once the debate for owning a gun has been removed, we can start to address the bigger problem which is, sadly, perhaps pushed to one side whenever these atrocities happen. While we keep debating over the gun issue, nothing is being done to address the very real underlying problem. Take away the gun part of the issue, and start focusing on the social problem instead. As a society, we have become far too blase about violence in general. We mouth platitudes and sympathy when things like this happen. We mouth them genuinely, but they are platitudes nonetheless.

We need more education and support in place for the mentally ill. There will always be people who slip through the net, but maybe, just maybe, we can help and support these people before they reach snapping point.

And when we can't? Maybe they will be unable to get hold of a gun, as the man in China couldn't. Maybe they will set out to kill as many people as they can, but will fail.

Cut the crap. End the debate. Guns DO kill people.

Summoning Some Silliness

So... I think I need to familiarise myself with my blog again, because, sadly, its been a long time since I've been here. I did a post before about how time seems to be stuck on fast forward the older you get, and LORDY, that was bang on. Where the heck does the time go? Christmas is a month away. A month. And I haven't blogged nearly as much as I wanted to this year.

I seem to have backed myself up against a wall though. Without intending to, this blog has tended to fall in the Nutty Category. Of course, by nature I am a bit of a loon, so this is not a complete surprise, but still... it can be a little daunting knowing that the majority of my followers (if indeed they are still around because I am a bad, bad, procrastinator) usually expect The Crazies when they read my posts. And sometimes, you know, The Crazies won't oblige me. It seems to me, in fact, that when I want a visit from The Crazies, they decide to stay away. This might be considered as helpful for many people, but for Yours Truly, it isn't really conductive to writing something in the Nutty Category.

The thing is, I rarely attempt to write anything amusing, but somehow that's usually how it ends up. When I don't think about it, the words flow through my fingers almost faster than I can type them. My funniest stories/blog posts were written at such a fast pace that it felt as if they wrote themselves. When I went back to read them before posting them, it was like reading something that somebody else wrote. That zone, that lovely state of writing without thinking about it, is a place I really want to establish again.

I've attempted to get back to this zone several times. When I ask for requests, the prompts usually force my brain into thinking of something, and then I tend to try using a slight twist on the request and see where The Crazies take me. This year has been a bit of a doozy for me, though. I've had a few health problems that have definitely set me behind on my goal to be Prolific Writer Of The Year.

It's quite possible that I can put my lack of motivation and general forgetfulness down to my usual procrastinating nature, but in reality these problems have been escalated due to the attack of shingles that I had back in April. While I  have recovered from this, the residual tiredness has not gone away. I am exhausted. Quite literally. I'm still taking a nap every day, seven months after the inital attack. Things that I plan to do are either forgotten about, or pushed to one side because I just don't have the energy to do them.

Thankfully I've still managed to work on my writing projects. Not as much as I would have liked, but enough to say that they are 'works in progress' without feeling that I am lying about it. My fantasy is slowly coming along, and as I've always known this project would take a long time to come together, I don't let it worry me that the word count isn't climbing too swiftly. My Cardiff Fairytales series is also coming along quite nicely. While I anxiously wait out the final few weeks in the sixteen week submission process for the first book, the second story is past the half way mark, and ideas for book three have been dutifully noted.

While I am happy that I'm managing to to mostly keep up with my writing projects, I'm a little sad that I've negelected this blog. I've had so much fun on here in the last couple of years, and I miss it.

So I'm sending out a plea to The Crazies... please come back!!

Image borrowed from here.

A Rambling Ramble

You know that saying, 'I came,I saw, I conquered.' Well I feel a little bit like that when it comes to this blog, only it's more a case of 'I came, I Felt A Bit Guilty, I Procrastinated.'

Ok, so it's not remotely like the first phrase, but still. I can't believe we're midway through October,and this is only the first time I have sat down to blog. I was fully prepared to give the whole 'blog every day in October' thingy a decent attempt. I even had ideas for the requests that had already started to trickle in. But for some reason, whenever I make plans, everything goes 'tits up' (as we say in Cardiff).

Why is that? I mean, planning should mean that everything goes,well, to plan. Or at least more or less. But I am one of those people who seems to manage better when there is not a sign of a plan in sight.

The biggest thing that stuffed up my plan was the fact that my employers sold their shop, giving the staff less than two weeks' notice. The new owner took over our contracts on the 28th September. What we were hoping to be a smooth transition has turned out to be our worst nightmare. I won't get into details, but suffice to say that two of the fourteen staff members have already left, one has decided to retire early, and the rest of us are desperately seeking new employment. A time consuming, tedious, and often depressing turn of events, not least because there really aren't many jobs out there at the moment.

The smallest thing that has affected my good intentions (though it is just as annoying) is the fact that my laptop is dying. Again. I've actually lost count of how many laptops/computers have died on me in the last eight years. I could probably work it out if I thought about it, but it is too depressing to even make the effort. Once again, the soon-to-be fatal flaw is a wonky keyboard. When I say wonky, I mean that it is just not doing what it is supposed to do. So far it is just the space bar that is misbehaving (I have tried to catch all of the words that have been squashed together due to the space bar not working properly, but I'm sure I'll have missed a few). Actually, the 'b' isn't always showing either (added this bit on my read through, but only after spending a few seconds wondering what on earth I meant by 'log every day in October').

Granted, it's not as bad as when half the letters on my keyboard didn't work during the Boken Keboa era (nor nearly as funny), but it is just so time consuming trying to type, and having to pause and go back after almost every word. It's also terribly fwuztwatin (couldn't resist using probably my favourite ever made-up word from the Boken Keboa dictionary).

In between the big and the small things that have stuffed me up, there are the various bits in between. The usual, everyday things that mean I can't get as much access to the internet as I would like. Work, kids, life... that sort of thing. And of course, there is the anxiety that I can't quite manage to control over the fate of my novel submission. Almost seven weeks have passed since I hit 'send' (or, to be truthful, hit 'save draft' by mistake, then realised the next day that I'd messed up *shifty*), and I still have another nine weeks before I can chase up the publishers.

And I've procrastinated, obviously. Wouldn't be me if I didn't. (Ooh, the caps lock keeps sticking too, forgot to mention that. Half of this post would have been SHOUTING at you if I hadn't have used the backspace button so often [luckily that one is still working]).

Anyway, that's all I want to ramble about at the moment.There's only so much backspacing and deleting a girl can take...

Image borrowed from here. Incidentally, I love the fact that when I searched Google images for 'boken keboa', it knew EXACTLY what I was looking for. *snort*

Missing: Blogging Mojo!

You know, I wasn't really too worried at first when my Blogging Mojo went walkabout. I mean, it's not like it hasn't happened before. *shifty* But it's been three months - to the day!- since he blew in my ear and massaged my shoulders (for the clueless, my Writing/Blogging Mojo is a combination of Aragorn [the Viggo Mortensen version], Damon Salvatore, Dean Winchester, and Spartacus), and now I really need him to return as soon as possible.

Oi! Mojo! Break time is over!

To be fair, he hasn't been entirely absent. He pops up whenever he can *coughs* and has been very helpful when it came to working on my new chick-litty manuscript.  In fact, he's been particularly helpful when it comes to writing certain scenes (mostly the innuendo-y type scenes, obviously). I'm not finished by a long shot (and neither is he, hopefully), but I'm sure I can rely on him to continue his brand of encouragement.

But he needs to be thoroughly chastised for his neglect with the blog cheer leading. He hasn't waved his pom-poms at me for far too long. So I am cracking my whip and bringing him to attention.

To keep him poised, he needs a little encouragement of his own. Some incentive, you might say. I've tried the usual suspects - chocolate, champagne, feather boas, that sort of thing - but I think he's more in need of mental stimulation. With the October NaBloWriMo just around the corner (or, the October Marathon, as I like to call it), he's going to need more stimulation than ever. What better way to do that than firing some requests his way?

Or, to put it another way, I want to blog and I have no ideas. But that's not nearly as much fun as talking about mojos, feather boas and pom-poms...

Anywho, despite my hit and miss record when it comes to requests, I'm giving it a shot for October, so I need thirty prompts. I realise there's thirty-one days in October, but the last day is traditionally reserved for reminiscing, so thirty is the amount of requests required (wow, a lot of 'r' words in that last sentence).

So... hit me...

Image borrowed from here.

My Auntie Is Giddy

As in oh my giddy auntie. As in oh my daisies. As in oops. As in *shifty*. As in any and all polite ways of saying the word that rhymes with 'duck'.

My bad. My very bad. My so bad that there should be a personalised definition of the phrase especially for me. It's been two months since I last blogged (I feel like I should have gone to confession to say that, even though I'm not a churchy person). Hmmph.

I'm in the throes of a deep bout of procrastination. Not only have I not blogged, but I haven't done much of anything else either. Except work, try to keep up with the housework (the keyword being 'try' there, because I'm pretty sure the housework is stomping way ahead of me in that particular race), and doing my best to not let the Shingles Beast get the better of me.

Technically I recovered from shingles about six weeks ago, but in reality I'm still feeling the effects of it. To say it knocked me for six would be an understatement. I'm one of the lucky ones; the pain 'only' lasted about a month. I can honestly say that I've never had pain that bad, and that includes childbirth, because childbirth never reduced me to tears (well, it did on my daughter, but that wasn't because of the actual pain, more because I was stressed). The nerve pain that I had with shingles was excruciating. But while that was bad enough, it's the lingering tiredness that I can't quite shake off that is debilitating. I find that I can't do as much as I used to do without feeling exhausted.

None of us are getting any younger, and sure, I can't do what I could do ten years ago, but I find that I haven't got the stamina to do what I was doing ten weeks ago. It's really odd how something as simple as the chicken pox virus can really send you body out of whack.

Anyway, moving on...

I'm gutted I failed the April A-Z. To make it worse, I only failed by three days. I manged to limmerick my way from A-W, then I ran out of steam. So close! Arghh!! I'm pretty sure this embarrassing failure has compounded to my avoidance of my poor, wee blog. In fact, my Writing Mojo is not only blushing, but refusing to have anything to do with me.

And it's not only my Writing Mojo who is shunning me either. My Editing Mojo has a distinct look of disdain on his face, while my Manuscript Read Through Mojo keeps looking at me as if I'd just crawled out from under a particularly nasty rock. Honestly, I'm surpised I'm still alive after all the Daggers of Doom glares that have come my way.

But it's not all bad! No! Indeed, there's been some good stuff in the last two months! While I am mortally ashamed of myself for not finishing a read through of a friend's manuscript, I did recieve her debut book through the post last week (which, by the way, was one of the only original manuscripts that I have ever managed to fulfil my read through promise with, even if I was late with it *shifty*). My good friend The Watery Tart (aka Tami Hart, aka Hart Johnson, aka Alyse Carlson), was officially a published author earlier this month. Yay! *sends subliminal 'go buy it' thoughts to the world at large*

It's very cool to own a book that was written by a friend. *nods* I haven't read it yet (well I have, in it's original form, but not in this form), but I did open the book and have a *squee* moment when I discovered that not only is it cool to have a published author for a friend, but it's also cool to recognise other friends in the acknowledgments. *squees again*

My friend on my bookshelf.  So to speak.

I also discovered a new obsession in the last two months. I finally got around to reading some books by an author who was recommended to me ages ago. Now, I'm a Book Slut and will read almost anything, but every now and again a series will come along that really grabs at me. This doesn't happen very often - I can name the  Harry Potter series, the Lord of the Rings series, and Salvatore's Dark Elf books as the only examples - but now I have another series to add to my elite list. Robin Hobbs books, specifically her books telling the story of FitzChivalry Farseer and his friends. Loved, loved, LOVED these books. Loved them so much, in fact, that my FanFic Mojo is currently emerging from exile, rubbing his hands together and seriously thinking of flexing his writing muscles.

Some new friends.

In other news, my newest additions to the family (two bearded dragons going by the names of Pinky and Perky), have been busy beardies indeed. Pinky has so far laid 50 eggs in the last two months - 21 in the first clutch, 29 in the second), and judging by her frantic digging, and overall scatty behaviour of the last couple of days, there's a third clutch on the way. So far none of the eggs have been viable, but it's still cool to say that I have dragon eggs in my house (that'll be the geek in me).

Lastly, there has also been two birthdays in the Smith household this month. The Hubby was [undisclosed age due to self-preservation] on June 11th, while my eldest child turned sixteen yesterday. If ever there was a reason to feel old, it's when your children are closer to the age of twenty than you are.


Oh my giddie auntie indeed.

All images self-taken.

W is for...

Winging it...

My approach to writing can be wrong

Tending to make up as I go along

But I cannot moan

As each to their own

And it works when my wits are long gone!

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V is for...

Verra Verra Sexy

Men wear trousers, women a skirt

But sometimes mixing it up won't hurt

There's no doubt a Scot

Is incredibly hot

When his kilt shows a butt that is pert.

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U is for...

Ugly Duckling

No matter the size of your hips

Or if you have kissable lips

There's someone out there

Who'll make you a pair

And will share your super-sized chips!

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T is for...

Tic Toc

In a departure from limericks for today only, I have for your viewing 'pleasure', a video of my ten year old daughter performing a dance routine that she choreographed herself for the song 'Tic Toc' by Kesha. If you can get through the video (it's under four minutes), you will hear yours truly saying my Taffy catchphrase. Originally,  I was going to read an old Taff post for my 'T', but I couldn't figure out how to upload the recording from my phone, and I have no idea how to use the laptop's recording facility...  *is technically inept*


 

S is for...

Stilettos

If you're wanting to make a big splash

Then try giving stilettos a bash

The flatties won't wash

So don't waste your dosh

Sexy shoes should be swapped for your cash!

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R is for...

Rood Words

Sometimes politeness really won't do

When all you want is to say 'bleep you'

With a little Taff rhyme

You can swear all the time

 And say 'duck you!' all that you want to!

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Q is for...

Quirky

I've often been told I am quirky

Which is better than being a turkey

My mind can be misty

It makes all things twisty

And that's when things can get murkey...

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P is for...

Prolific

My posts are hardly prolific

Just words on things unspecific

But I still have a go

Even when I feel low

So sometimes they aren't so terrific.

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I'm a day behind again, thank goodness for Sundays! Unlike the guy in the picture, I haven't been hit by the big bad flu bug. I've been sucker-punched by Mr Shingles, which explains my back pain and general feeling of malaise for the last two weeks or so. Finally got the right diagnosis and the proper meds today, so hopefully things will improve!

O is for...

Ooh la la!

When wanting a bit of 'how's your father?'

Don't let yourself get into a lather

No need to think

Just give a wink

Crook your finger and say 'ooh la la!'

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Not my best effort, but I'm still under the weather. :(

N is for...

Numpty

The minutes tick by 'til twelve o'clock

My brain feels like it's in a deadlock

Like Humpty Dumpty

I feel like a Numpty

By posting this utter poppycock!

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M is for...

More, More, More!

Holding yourself back can be a bore

Move in for a kiss (or three, or four)

So don't be shy

Give it a try

I promise you'll only want more!

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L is for...

Lagging

I'm a day behind to be sure

I've had a painful back to endure

But I do not care

As Sundays are spare

So my falling behind has a cure!

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K is for...

Kinky!!

Suspenders, stockings, and some high heels

Some food that may not be for a meal

Don something slinky

And get with the kinky

All your fantasies will become real!

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J is for...

Jack!!

If eyeing a pirate's your pleasure

Then spy on this one at leisure

It's no joke that Jack

Really has that knack

To give you moments to treasure!

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I is for...

Ice!!

If you're looking for a new thrill

How about something that gives you a chill?

Playing with ice

Could be your new vice

In the right place it can be quite a thrill.

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H is for...

Hello Boys!

If wanting to attract a male

Then showing some boobage won't fail

A push-up bra

Will get you far

But don't flash, or you'll end up in jail!

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A/N Apologies for not being able to answer comments at the moment. I'm laid up with a bad back and am not spending any time on the computer... hopefully will be back to full working order soon!

G is for...

Games

Blindfolds, handcuffs, and a handy whip

Lots of laces, with a well-placed zip

What fun can be had

When you're playing bad

Just throw away qualms and let rip!

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F is for...

Fantasy

Donning some clothes that are not your own

Take a new character as a loan

Sexy nurses and docs

Or a dancer that's hot

Will surely cause a gasp or a moan.

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E is for...

Erogenous Zones!!

To know where to place a kiss

Can be a case of hit or miss

Perhaps on the nose?

Or maybe your toes?

Get it right, and the result is bliss!

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D is for...

Dragons!!

When choosing a new family pet

It's hard to know what to get

Something cool and quite cute

And preferably mute

The idea of dragons was well met!

Pinky and Perky. *coughs*

Image self-taken.

C is for...

Cuddles

When life gets a little bit manic

Don't let yourself get in a panic.

When problems befuddle

Just have a few cuddles

(And be sure to make a few tantric).

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B is for...

Booty

I've tried so hard over the years

Amid lots of frustration and tears

The pounds go, then come back

So I'll never lack

Ample booty - it's a curse, I fear.

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A is for...

Acrobatics

I'm inching my way towards forty

And have never been what you'd call 'sporty'.

But you need all your limbs

To do bedtime things

Or else it's just 'nice', and not 'naughty'.

Er, not quite the jumping I had in mind...

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Rooting for the Rhymes

I haven't blogged since February 9th!!! My bad. Again.

I can't seem to get this blogging thing down apparently. I have fits and starts... from one extreme to the other. But I signed up for this year's A-Z Challenge, so that means that there WILL be a post every day in April. *nods* Well, most days anyway - Sundays (apart from the first one) are exempt.

I'm obviously going with the same theme as last year. Limericks worked out fabulously for me; they were easy to write, and easy to read for those who spared a few moments to pop by and take a look.

I toyed with the idea of having a theme within the theme... maybe Welsh inspired limericks, for example. Or even movie related. I even briefly entertained the idea of animals or flowers or something. But then I realised that I didn't want to do something that required research, because... well, because I am lazy. *shifty* And also because, quite frankly, I enjoyed last year's innuendo-filled challenge so much, that I really couldn't live with myself if I didn't go forth and limerick in a subtly smutty way all over again.

So naughty limericks is once again the theme. See you all tomorrow for the funfest!

Today's Special Offer!

OK, so I have a dirty mind, but honestly, sometimes things are just begging to be misconstrued...

Lellied Again...

There was an inset day today at my daughter's school, which meant that she had a three-day weekend. With the weather being cold, and the Smith family not owning a car, we spent the day at home. Ellie, being the creative child that she is, diligently spent the afternoon upstairs, only showing her face to ask odd questions such as 'Can I use one of the big glue sticks?' and 'What are the colours of the rainbow again?'

I was puzzled, but left her to it (I have learnt that this is the best way to deal with my ten year old). Half an hour ago she came downstairs giggling and hiding something behind her back. Mum and dad had to participate in her little game, which consisted of a piece of paper with an alarmingly scary-looking face drawn on it, and a rainbow/heart/pocket thingy glued next to it.

Apparently, it was a lucky dip. We each had to pull something from behind a the rainbow. I won £20, while the hubby won £5 (*snicker*). Alas, it was not real money, but the thirty seconds or so of fun (following around two hours of drawing, writing and sticking) was well worth it according to my daughter.

Playpuss

Whenever my daughter brings her toys into the living room, one of the kitties gets involved. I tried my best to capture Belle when she was trying desperately to pull some of my daughter's Polly Pocket dolls from the toy pile, but alas, you'll have to settle for a picture of her standing guard over her hoard instead.

Ms. Jekyll & Ms. Hyde

 

My daughter can be a little angel at times, but mostly she is a typical ten year old. Between the bouts of tantrums, pouting, pestering, and winding-daddy-around-her-little-finger incidents, I sometimes catch her in a genuine moment of sweetness. This was one of those moments, and it's a nice reminder that sometimes, being 'Lellied', is actually quite nice.

Waiting

February seems to be the month of waiting for me this year. I'm waiting for the 10th to come around, because when I finish my shift at 6pm that day, I won't have to go back to work until the 28th (woohoo, and there was much rejoicing!). I'm waiting for the 23rd to arrive so that I can either stop biting my nails because I will have failed to get to the second stage of ABNA, or move onto nibbling my hair (due to lack of nail-ness) if I have magically got to the second stage after all.

OK, those are probably the only biggie things that I am waiting on to be truthful, but every day it seems I am waiting for something. Waiting for my son to get home from school (because he can't be trusted to have a key) so that I can pop out somewhere; waiting for my daughter to finish faffing around in the morning so that I can send her to school; waiting for the kettle to boil so that I can make a much needed cuppa...

This morning I left the house a little earlier than I needed to because I got the bus timetables muddled up (for some reason I thought it was Saturday... must be the pre-dawn waking up that confused me methinks), so I was waiting for the bus to arrive far longer than normal. Hence the piccy for today's Phebruary Photo. The largish shadow is moi - huddled in three layers of clothing (not counting the thickly padded coat) no less. It's been in the minus range temperature-wise for the last week or so here in Cardiff, and waiting for the bus seems to take forever...

I have no patience. Waiting sucks.

Deceiving Sun

It looked like such a nice day when I peeked through the window this morning; the sky was blue and the sun was shining. But the sun was being tricksy again, promising warmth when it had no right to do so. You see, it's blinking FREEZING here in The Diff. Brrrr! I took this piccy earlier this afternoon as I was waiting for a bus (which never turned up, bloody thing *mutters*), and it occurred to me at the time that the sun was a bit of a sneakster. *nods* Hence, 'Deceiving Sun.'

Paws on Pause

About the only time Angel isn't being a devil is when she sleeps...

My little kitty has been suffering with a third eylid problem for the a while. A few weeks back I noticed that the inner eyelid on both of her eyes was covering half of her eye. It was a sudden thing - wasn't there one day, the next it was - and first I thought it was just a cold or something. After a couple of days it still hadn't cleared up, so I checked it out and discovered it was most likely that she had worms. Eww.

Anyway, I dutifully wormed her (and my other kitty too), and while this appears to have slowed down her eating habits, her inner eyelids are still visible.  She is fine in herself, perfectly healthy in fact. Turns out she has 'Haws Syndrome', which generally affects kitties under the age of two, and is not something to worry about. It will clear itself in six to eight weeks apparently.

And that's my ramble to go with the first of my 'Phebruary Photos' posts. :)

Rant Against A Romance Basher

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I woke up this morning feeling a few things; glad that I had a day off, looking forward to having a day of Nothing-To-Do-For-A-Change, and general thankfulness that I could go back to sleep if I should want to. I made a cuppa and saw my kids off to school for the day, and then made another cuppa to go with my morning scrawl through my Facebook newsfeed (oh what an exciting life I lead, huh?).

Then I came across a link that one of my Facebook friends shared, and started cussing. The link was to a blog post, and the more I read, the more I cussed. Then I got to reading the replies, and cussing doesn't even begin to describe what was going on inside my head.

I guess I should share the link here, though it goes against the grain to give this guy any more readership. I just don't think I can repeat what he said without cussing all over the place. There's nothing wrong with cussing - in fact, regular readers of this blog know that I enjoy cussing in my Taffish fashion quite often - but I don't really want half of the post to be excessive profanity.

Anyway, before I go further, you should probably READ THIS. I promise it won't take more than two minutes tops. Great, now that I've added the link, I can remove it from my bookmarks. *shudders*

Now, I don't want to get too personal, because that might mean that I end up insulting this nitwit. I don't even want to argue any of his useless and pathetic points. Honestly, I don't have a problem with the base of his post. The guy doesn't like the romance genre, and that's fair enough. It's just the way he did it. He insulted hundreds of readers and writers of romance in a few short paragraphs.

I might not have been so wound up about this if I had just read his post (insulting enough though that was, it was his opinion, and everyone is entitled to an opinion), but then I had the misfortune to read the comments, and Oh My Lordy. I take back my nitwit comment. That is far too kind a descriptions for this guy, and an insult to nitwits in general. Most nitwits have redeeming qualities. I - for example - am a complete nitwit, but I know how to laugh at myself and take no insult when somebody calls me one. I'd hazard a guess that if this guy ever read this post, he would sneer in a superior manner and post a stream of what he assumes to be blistering set-downs (though that would be pointless, because I would just laugh).

Anywho, I digress...

According to this guy, because I read romance, I am a woman still stuck in her teenage years who has no right to be bothering with romance when I am grown up and should know better. Now, I'm not directly quoting here, but that's the gist. Also, even if I manage to get published, it won't matter because romance will never be considered 'good writing'; when compared to other genres, so being published won't mean that my work is considered 'good'. Blimey, if I'd have known that, I wouldn't have wasted my time writing the darn thing. Thanks for the tip.

Furthermore, if a book is termed romance, then it is, apparently by default, 'bad' or 'tacky'. Because apparently, it would be called a classic love story otherwise. Apparently.

Um, right. Apparently this guys a complete tit, though I don't mean anything personal by it, because that would mean I was insulting the person, and not the post. So far I have called this guy a nitwit, but then I took it back. Anything else I said was only implied, therefore not really an insult. And by using the word 'apparantly',  the 'complete tit' reference was only a suggestion, not really an insult at all. Actually, this guy might like being called a 'tit', now that I think about it (implied or otherwise). His level of maturity hasn't quite passed that Thirteen-And-Can't-Help-Giggling-Whenever-I-See-Naked-Boobs phase. And frankly, he should have passed that by now as he is grown up and should know better.

*DING!!*

Ooh, was that a hit?

Wow, I've lost my train of thought now and have forgotten what I wanted to say. Must be because I am a woman, and therefore illiterate, and obviously not well-adjusted.

I think I'd better stop now, or I'll end up bitching about this all day. One last thing though, this blogger (was so tempted to use another word there) describes himself as 'I'm a sexy, single, white male with a really big, uh, wallet. (It's where I keep all my I.O.U.s). I also write a bit.'.

Dude, take a tip from me. Any woman reading your post today will never consider you sexy. And your implied reference of having a big 'wallet' really only tells us that you are over-compensating your lack of wallet-ness (not to mention your lack of tact, wit, and probably brains too). As to writing 'a bit', I sincerely hope it stays that way. Because if I ever have to read 'a lot' of your verbal vomit, I would probably choke.

*is somewhere else*

I haven't been around much (again), but I haven't been comepletely procrastinating. Well, maybe just a little bit, but not overly so. I blogged over at my writer's group just over a week ago, for example. And in between getting sucked into everything from family life, to bingo on Facebook, I managed to set aside yesterday afternoon to go through my manuscript in order to submit it today for this year's ABNA.

Yes, perhaps yesterday was cutting it a bit fine, but this is me, and I always leave things until the last minute. *shifty*

Anyway, I don't have a blog post for you today. Well, not here at any rate. But I blogged over at Cardiffella, so I'm popping by with a link to today's post if anyone fancies reading a ramble.

And now I'm off 'somewhere else' again... so toodle-loo!

Princess Poll

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A quick one today! I've been trying to think of what I'll use officially as my 'author' name, and you know what? It's not as easy as it seems. Sure, I could go for sticking with my real name, but would that be authorish enough? One of my writer friends mixed up her maiden and married names and it came out perfect, sounding just right for her author name, but mine doesn't work out quite so well.

I have a few options - my real name is Tara Marie Smith, while my maiden name was Jeffery. My mother's maiden name - Hughes- is quite authorish sounding, too. And I like the idea of using 'Amber' in there, in memory of my daughter.

There are several ways to make up a name; I could use the full names, or just the initials. And I could take my pick from the surnames. I just can't quite decide on anything. Nothing is hitting me as 'perfect'.

I was mostly decided on 'Tara M Smith', but then a friend came up with 'Amber T Smith', which threw a spanner in the works as it made me think 'ooh!'.

I've asked a poll question on my facebook page using the above two options, but any and all opinions would be most welcome!

So, what say you? If my chick-litty story ever ends up in book form, who will have written it?

Well, Hello Stranger!

Seeing as it's been almost three months since I last blogged, I think we can safely assume that I'm still a Procrastination Princess. And seeing as how I stopped blogging right in the middle of a self-imposed challenge, we can also safely assume that I am a Very Naughty Girl too.

Bluddy 'ell though, some of those challenge suggestions were hard! It got so that every time I came by to try a new post, my brain would freeze for a few moments and then break out in a sweat. A glazed look would appear in my eyes, and I would end up closing the tab and putting it off until 'tomorrow'. A new year has begun since then, and still those challenges have stumped me, so I figure it's best to ramble about something else. That's not to say that I will never complete the challenge, I'd just rather attempt them when not feeling under undue pressure.

On that slightly disappointing note (for me, if not for you), here I am with the first of 2012's blog posts. Nothing very exciting so far, I know, but we have to start somewhere.

I could waffle on a bit about the dire 2012-End-Of-The-World thingy, but that would be predictable (not to mention depressing). I could talk about the fact that I'm whipping my procrastinating butt into gear by entering this year's ABNA, but I know lots of other blogs are full of this competition already, so that would also be predictable.

So how about I wax lyrical (or at least briefly) about the delights of eggnog instead? It's past the festive season, but who cares? Eggnog, a recent discovery, is, in the words of a Taffy, bluddy lush like, innit? Eggs, sugar, cream, cinnamon, and most important of all, rum.

Now, I'm not usually a rum drinker (sorry Mr. Sparrow), but I have to admit that rum, when it is included with eggnoggy stuff, is lurvely. So nice, in fact, that I have decided that it shall not be forgotten about until next Christmas. Eggnog should be a year-round drink as far as I'm concerned. It may even replace - shock, horror, gasp!- vodka as my preferred alcohol of choice. *nogs* Er, I mean *nods*.

Image is mine, my precious, my own!

So yeah, that's what my first post of 2012 celebrates. Eggnog. May the year be filled will many sugar-enhanced rum and cinnamon goodness.

Happy It's-Not-The-End-Of-The-World-2012 everyone!