My dear blogging friend, Kimberly at silentlyheardonce, has very kindly nominated me for the 3 Days 3 Quotes challenge.
Kimberly dreams of a world full of compassion and tolerance, leading to ultimate peace between all nations. Her feelings run deep, as evidenced by her poems and reflections. Last year she published Whispers I Silently Heard: A Lifetime of Poetry, which I’ve bought and am very much looking forward to reading soon.
I’m going to break the rules of this challenge by posting all three quotes in one day, as I’m mindful of the fact that three consecutive days of posting might not happen in my present state of busy-ness.
The rules (for those more organised than me)
- Thank the person who nominated you.
- Post one fresh quotation on three consecutive days.
- On each of the three days, nominate three folk who have not yet taken part to continue the challenge.
My nominees (3 x 3 = 9, and without obligation)
The quotes (a writerly sandwich, indeed!)
“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.”
― Neil Gaiman
“Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. ”
― George Orwell
“I had the epiphany that laughter was light, and light was laughter, and that this was the secret of the universe.”
― The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt
Last Monday, I met up with the wonderful Sherri Matthews who blogs at A View From My Summerhouse.
Sherri and I have become firm emailing friends (the modern equivalent of pen friends) since she appeared as guest storyteller on my blog back in December. I’ve lost count of how many emails we’ve exchanged since then, but they’re probably exceeded the one hundred mark.
Although we live about 150 miles apart — Sussex and Somerset — we’ve discovered that in the past we shared many of the same stamping grounds, which makes it amazing we never crossed paths earlier in our lives; then again, maybe we did walk down the same street, never knowing we would become friends later.
In fact, it’s uncanny how many life coincidences and things we have in common. For example, one of Sherri’s grown up sons lives in the seaside town (these days a city) where I was born and went to school, while her other son lives in the county town where I attended Technical College and, later, where my husband had an antique shop.
Last weekend, Sherri was on one of her regular visits to this county town, which is only 17 miles from my home, and, to my great excitement, stayed on an extra day so we could finally meet.
Much as I suspected, we got along famously and never stopped talking. If anyone were to calculate the number of words shared between us in a few hours, these words would most likely equal the length of a novella! Needless to say, the time flew by far too fast.
Before I sign off, I just want to mention that Sherri hasn’t been able to blog for the past fortnight due to her new laptop breaking down and the retailers taking an age fixing it for her. This has meant she has had to use her old laptop, on which the internet moves slower than a snail. But at least the machine is useable for word-processing, so she can continue working on her memoir. Meanwhile, do check out Sherri’s blog and have a read of her old posts and say “hi”, so she has some lovely comments awaiting her when she returns to blogging in the near future.
Meanwhile, I say three cheers to WordPress for its grand blogging community, where friendships such as mine and Sherri’s are forged 🙂
Throughout the year, these chairs have come and gone from their present position. I reckon they’re family rumpus chairs that are kept hidden from visitors: most especially from snooty relatives coming to stay for Christmas and the New Year.
As you can see, their basic framework is good and the leather well maintained (ignore the bird droppings and rain on them) but, if you look closely, the seat cushions have indents in them, each of them bearing the shape of their usual occupant’s bottom. And just because people are related to one another, it doesn’t mean they all have the same size backside.
Personally, I’ve not hidden any item of furniture from visitors. However, this year I admit to removing a particular novel from the sitting-room when some of Mister’s erudite friends came to our house for a meeting about local arts and culture events. The book was such an embarrassment that, even on Goodreads, I didn’t own up to reading it; although there were two perfectly valid reasons for it being in my possession. Firstly, because my daughter lent it to me and, secondly, because I wanted to know why the darned thing was a bestseller. Let’s just say that I won’t bother with the other two novels in the trilogy and would have given it 2-stars in a review.
What, if anything, have you hidden from visitors?