Does every family have their own special words?

When we were still in the UK I did a list of things to be done and forgot to type a space between the To and the Do - 'What's a todo (to rhyme with Frodo)'? Mr FF asked me. Since then of course that is what we have called it.

When planning something involving a journey Mr FF likes to add 'wiggle room' - you know, those extra vital hours that are needed to make the difference between cutting it fine and sailing along in a leisurely fashion (although we both have a hatred of being late everywhere and consequently prefer to be the first ones).

When I was a child my mother tried to encourage me to be self-possessed and confident - which she abbreviated to SPC. Even now I sometimes tell myself to be SPC.

Do you and yours have their special phrases? Care to share them with me?

Bichon Jekyll and Hyde

Looking at this sweet sleeping Poppy bichon you wouldn't imagine that sometimes she can turn into a real Mr Hyde. This dog is the rescue dog that I have blogged about quite a lot in the past. She was badly treated for the first two years of her life and has a lot of 'isms'. One of them is that she gets very upset and hysterical when people leave. She loves them arriving and doesn't want them to go away. Consequently each time a visitor gets up to leave there are ructions and growls and she has to be restrained.

My m-i-l is not very confident with dogs and the Poppy situation sometimes worries her. I think Pop can sense this and is sometimes extra cross that m-i-l is going. Pop thinks 'I know, if I tear at her clothes a bit she will have to stay' - yes, bloggers, we recently had an 'incident'.

Tomorrow Pop and Misty will both be spending the afternoon at m-i-l's as an experiment. She will come and go quite often and see if Poppy is a bit calmer. If it all works out okay then she will agree to look after them for a long weekend next month so that I can go to Paris and stay with Mr FF (who was home last weekend and it was good to be together again)


Here is another sleepy photo - and yes, they are spoilt for choice with their daytime beds

Spammed!i

Haven't we all had a lot of spam lately. I just don't understand the mindset of these spammers. As if we would ever voluntarily seek them out after flooding our comment boxes with their rubbish. I'm still determined not to resort to word verification though. From what I can see in the blogosphere even people with word veri still get spammed. And what's with people who elect to have word veri and then also comment moderation? Why have both?

What I've done is just set comment moderation for comments left after ten days - it always seems to be the older posts they target.

And now for something completely different: I gave up on the Ben Elton - he's not a very good writer and his book didn't hold my interest at all. I've moved on to Graham Greene - I know his name is legendary but I'm ashamed to say I've never read any of his books. I have seen some films based on his books but - just 50 pages into The Heart of the Matter - well I might just have a new literary hero-worship blooming (although he does love his similes).

Yes, you can have too much of something you like

Since I blogged about reading The World According to Garp I have read nothing but other John Irving books back to back. The thing is that I think this might not have been a good plan. Just as I once ate five mangoes - one after the other - and can barely bring myself to eat this fruit any more, I am looking at the three Irving books I've yet to read with a distinct lack of interest.

Isn't it a shame that over-exposure to something so good can put you off? I have learnt on my OU creative writing course that the art of writing is a craft like any other - say playing the piano or learning how to draw. There are distinct techniques that can be honed and perfected and many successful writers have benefited from studying these various tricks to help narrative flow and characterisation be fully-fleshed out. Having now read nine Irving books in a row I can see these tricks quite clearly - not that it makes them any less good, just that I have overdone it and wish I had read other authors in between the Irving masterpieces.

As a complete contrast I am now reading a very light book by Ben Elton (Blast from the Past) and it is refreshingly simple and uncomplicated. I don't need to re-read a paragraph to savour the language, it doesn't fill my mind wondering how Elton thought of the characters - in short it is a basic readable airport novel.

Just as I hope one day to return to mangoes with my same enthusaiasm. I reckon that one day I will be ready for my remaining three Irving books. For anyone wanting to begin with an Irving book that I (and fellow bloggers Dumdad and Carol) think is the best, then try A Prayer for Owen Meany. It is quite a few months since I read it and I still think about Owen. How wonderful it must be to write such a perfect book and it's something not many people achieve.

Is there anything that you once loved and, due to over-exposure, can now no longer enjoy?

Keeping myself busy

I know I am very behind with visiting all you lovely people but it has been a conscious decision. It would be very easy for me - with Mr FF now in Paris- to sit here all day long, going from one blog to another and, indeed, investigating new ones. The thing is that I don't want to turn to the internet to keep me occupied. Instead I have been doing some OU course work - writing poetry (which I adore), sorting out boxes and boxes of stuff crammed into cupboards and generally pottering around. The only new skill I practiced has been the bleeding of the bathroom radiator and it was fine.

One problem I have had occurred yesterday when I fell on the icy balcony step and banged my head, neck and arm. Of course I did what anyone self-respecting woman does - burst into tears - and then crawled back into the living room on all fours. 24 hours later I don't think any lasting damage has happened but I am having trouble putting my left arm behind my back (will have to go bra-less for a few days I reckon, swinging proudly) and my fingers are a little numb - hence not wanting to type too much at the moment.

Oh well, at least I won't have to dig my snow-bound car out because I don't think I could turn the wheel safely. I hope you have all fared a bit better.

Stobbie versus Nobbie

On my way home from dropping the bichons off for their regular grooming session (every five weeks, poor little white dogs who stay whiter than white this way) I saw an Eddie Stobart lorry and just had to yell at the top of my voice STOBBIE. This will sound absolutely crazy to you lot over the pond but Eddie Stobart lorries (the Stobbie) and their French rivals Norbert Dentressangle (the Nobbie) have long prompted this sort of daft behaviour in English and French people.

It's something that helped pass long car journeys, first with my parents and then with friends when we travelled around the UK on driving holidays - the first person seeing either a Nobbie or a Stobbie and yelling the name at the top of their voice didn't have to pay for their dinner that evening. Of course when I was a child I didn't have to pay either but it did guarantee me an extra pack of sweeties that day (favourite ones when a child were American Hard Gums that took forever to finish).

For anyone who thinks this all sounds just a bit too nutty to be true - this will confirm that Stobbies are indeed an English institution and - I've grudgingly got to admit - the Nobbies also prompt equally daft behaviour amongst the French