I did it… threw caution to the wind. I changed my mind many times about whether I should start a blog or not, cause it feels a bit wanky or something, but I figure I’ll be lucky if anyone chooses to read my drivel, so here I am. Plus, I think blogs are dying. I was never very good at keeping up with trends.

I enjoy writing little stories about the quirks of life and finding humour in the everyday mundane. I also like to do a fair bit of whingeing it seems.. mainly about laundry, the children and crappy internet. I’m fairly partial to a feminist rant from time to time and also sharing some other random thoughts that run through my head. I think you’re meant to have a plan when you blog. Like a topic and stick to it. A niche. I think this applies to blogs that have an audience so I’m pretty safe.

Also, this will be a little bit of me left for my kids. Something to read when they’re older, and possibly sue me for.

There’s something to be said for reading words that your parents have written and hearing stories from the past. With both of my parents now dead and gone, I treasure the words left behind. Unfortunately I don’t have many. Mum only really left recipes.. ironically she wasn’t a fan of culinary pursuits. The bits I treasure though are the side notes of changes she made. She wrote those instructions like they were for someone else. I can’t imagine she would have ever forgotten the fact that the slice she made year after year didn’t need the whole packet of coffee biscuits. It’s noted on the side to “leave 4 behind” in the crushing phase, just the same.

My dad certainly had a way with words. He had a colourful palette to say the least, but mostly, he loved a ‘big word’ that no one knew the meaning of and he loved using that word whenever he could. In his hey day he mainly wrote “letters to the editor”, ranting about the misjustice of the latest local topic. He scribbled a few entries in a diary I once found and some fairly funny commentary on the back of old photos, but besides that, the colourful language and big fancy words left when he did.

Just recently though I found, amongst a pile of memorabilia, the last letter my nanna wrote to my mum. On the worn and torn edge of the envelope was written “mums last letter”. My mum had kept this treasured piece, scribed back in 1987. She lovingly tucked it away for safe keeping with newspaper clippings and old documents from a time gone by…… She held onto her mums words, her thoughts, her language. Written words are something to go back to and re read. They’re a gentle reminder of who someone was, what they cared about and their voice can be ‘heard’ just one more time.

Funnily enough in my nanna’s last letter, she whinged about how long it took to get the washing dry and something about needing Aloe Vera cream.

She was also a red head. Maybe apples don’t fall that far from the tree after all.

M