jomcarroll
I bought a roll of fabric a few years ago that rolls into a bandana, stretches to be a scarf to hold my hair when the wind blows, even folds into a hat. What a great use of a tube!
Robots - boys toys! Hard for me, a middle-aged woman, to get excited about them. I mean they can't make a cup of tea, or talk about shoes, or smell the roses can they? What use are they, is they can't understand the need for tea?
I wish I could drink whiskey. I drank it once - when I was 21. It is the only drink where I've said "I'll never drink that again!" and I haven't. Friends assured me I don't know what I'm missing. Maybe so. But what I can remember isn't pretty!
I wish - the dreams of bubbly baths, scented with roses, cold dry wine . . . instead I've got pasta bubbling away on the stove, and whiffs of pesto. Soon add the cheese - an easy supper, but a far cry from my dreams!
An American word - those of us across the pond stumble over it. Gas - in our English - is a vapour; the word generally used to mean the smelly stuff that fuels our cookers and our central heating. Now if you'd said petrol . . .
Severe - it can be punishment, or winters. Anything that doesn't feel deserved, leaves the recipient feeling bruised in some way. But I'm not sure it's a useful word in writing - we've overused it, like very, and maybe it doesn't work properly any more.
Too many things are obsolete now - and there my fingers stopped, unable to think of anything I couldn't find in an antique shop and a local enthusiast to make it work. So is there an overlap with antique? Does obsolete mean something we can't find any more, or simply have no use for?
I can be obsessive about my bookshelf. My novels are in alphabetical order - my excuse is that it makes it easy to find anything. Different shelves for poetry, short stories, memoir, travel. it works for me - but no doubt some people find it all a bit anal.
Thirst - can range from a bit of a dry mouth that sends you reaching for a bottle of water, to a raging dryness with cracked lips and wandering mind and the world feels full of nothing but sand. I'm lucky - I live in the west.
what a clumsy word this is? Why can't we talk about ex-students, without dressing it in something probably derived from Latin or Greek. Or is it designed to make us feel more important than we really are, in the hope we will dig in our pockets for money in gratitude that they've addressed us with such reverence?
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