Rosie Scribble

Lessons in love

Walking home from school this morning I found myself stuck behind a lady with striking blond hair and her friend. They were meandering along the pavement side by side, arm in arm and deep in conversation.

Thinking it was probably not polite to listen into their conversation; I hesitated for a few moments then listened into their conversation. As you do.

It transpired that they were talking about men. Or more specifically, the blond woman’s new relationship.

The conversation went a little like this: (I’m calling the blond lady Alice and her friend Jane, just because).

Jane: So do your family know about your new man?

Alice: Not yet. I’m keeping him all to myself for a little while longer.

Jane: Good for you. When are you next seeing him?

Alice: On Friday. He’s taking me away for the weekend.

Jane: Alice, I hope you are behaving yourself.

Alice: Oh I am Jane. He treats me so well. And do you know something; I think he is The One.

Jane: I’m thrilled for you Alice.

And I am thrilled for her too. For Alice, with the striking blond hair and, I noticed as I eventually managed to get past them, bright red lipstick, was at least seventy-five years old.

She looked fabulous with a twinkle in her eye and a spring in her step.

Proof there is hope for all of us. Alice would say never give up searching for that perfect relationship; you’re never too old and it’s never too late.

I’d like to adopt Alice and take her home with me, but something tells me I’d probably cramp her style.

Photo credit.

10 things I never thought I'd hear myself say

I am holding my hands up and admitting that once again I have stolen another blogger’s idea. This time I have wandered over to Kate Takes 5’s blog, read her post 10 things I never thought I’d hear myself say and decided to copy it.

I’ve also decided it’s a form of flattery rather than laziness on my part, so that’s my excuse.

So here are 10 things I have said this week that I never expected to hear myself say:

1. You’re not having your ears or anything else pierced

2. If you don’t hurry up I’ll miss Peter Andre

3. What was a seven year old doing with a cigarette?

4. Yes, boys can have boyfriends and girls can have girlfriends

5. No, granny is not younger than me

6. If you’re singing you can’t be washing your teeth

7. No, teachers don’t live in school during the school holidays

8. I don’t know. Where do baby unicorns come from?

9. I’m not in a bad mood; I’m just asking you to tidy your room

10. Santa is definitely watching.

Is it just me who has some random conversations with their child?

The one where I steal another blogger's idea

As we’ve both been struck down with a stomach bug for a few days which is possibly the result of consuming too many Easter eggs has come completely out of the blue, I’ve made no effort to come up with a unique idea for a blog post. Instead I’ve stolen the idea for this post from NotSupermum who recently wrote about the things she has said to her daughters this week.

In my defence, Your Honor, I did write a post previously along the same lines, although it was probably stolen from someone else too.

As listing the things I’ve said to my daughter this week would result in a repetitive list involving such statements as no you can’t have chocolate for breakfast,  I’m listing the things my daughter has said to me this week instead.

• You’re not my mother
• I don’t want you be scared mummy but I think I can see some teenagers
• Who is Kate Middleton?
• Is Santa watching?
• I think you should have two husbands
• I’d rather go and play at Granny and Grandpa’s house
• Can I borrow your bank account details?
• I am the boss
• I don't think I should be watching Britney Spears
• I’ve written my Christmas list

It’s clearly a mother-daughter relationship based on mutual love and respect, not one where one seven-year-old girl thinks she knows best and is under the impression she is in charge.

Photo credit ilco with help from Picnik.

Done

All good things must come to an end.

Well, good-ish.

There were times when it was tough going, and times when I thought I’d have given in up long before now.

But I stuck at it.

On a mission to be successful - one of the best, in fact.

I’m not sure I really achieved that, but anyway ...

So in a way it's sad it's all over.

In another it’s a relief.

A huge relief.

I’ve worked hard, invested a lot of time and energy, lost several hours of my day.

I’m not sure what I’ll do with the time now.

It’s like saying goodbye to an old friend.

Sort of.

Life will be a little different from now on.

My marketing course is complete; my final assignment handed in.

Thank goodness.

It is done.

Now it is time to live a little.

And there'll be more time to blog.

Photo credits.

Lifeline

I managed to do a quite a lot of thinking this week during the two whole days I managed to spend offline, about blogging, friendships and life in general.

It occured to me after a day off line, when I suddenly found myself logging on and replying to comments, just how important this blog is to me. The perks are nice, the small amount of income it generates is appreciated too, but it's not that. It's the connection it gives me with other people.

My feeling is that people blog for a variety of reasons, and we may not even be sure exactly what those reasons are. That is, until we log off for a while and discover there's a gaping hole left behind, which is how it felt for me earlier this week.

It is easy to suggest that's it is better to log off and live your life out there in the real world, but in the evenings it is just me. And you can't have a conversation when there is no-one else there.

I have met some warm and wonderful people through the world of blogging, and I missed them all this week.

I logged back on and discovered you were all still there, and thank goodness for that.

And I'll be honest. I started writing this post on Monday night when I was supposed to be 'off line' having realised how much better I felt when I saw people were coming over and commenting, and I just had to reply to them, because I wanted to say hello.

So next time I announce that I am logging off, come back the following day and you'll probably find I've updated my blog. If you've found a lifeline, why sever it?

Photo credit: Panoramadi