When God Was A Rabbit (is bliss)

It’s always the books people lend me that are the books I fall in love with the most.

This book is one of those books that, out of all, I love the most.

It has patiently sat on my shelf for a good few weeks (dare I say months?) and – finally – after getting through my first term of university, I have managed to read for fun – and this book was it! It helped me love reading even more, and get back to it. It was a swift and fast paced read; everything was just so magical but in the sense that it was still so relateable to the real and portrayed real life events throughout the narrative, but hints of fantasy were inherent throughout but only in the most subtlest of ways. Do not let this put you off.

I really enjoyed reading about the main protagonist’s, Elly’s, narrative most when she was reflecting on her childhood which takes up the first half of the book. It has that To Kill A Mockingbird feel to it as she writes and relates back to her past. When she grows up I found it difficult to disengage with her childhood voice and kept having to remind myself that now Elly was an adult – but for a child to have that strong a narrative voice that’s surely promising something good, isn’t it?

I really loved this book, I loved it so much I allowed the pages to get worn and the spine to gently break; it deserves to look loved because, although the copy I read wasn’t officially mine, I loved it indefinitely, and I think I will for a long time.

A very long time.

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A Merry Christmas Surprise

Being a university student, I don’t get to see my family as often as I always used to, and whenever I come home they always beg me not to leave. Last night was no exception, apart from the only one begging me to stay was my Dad, and for a change not my sisters. That is because they knew there was a surprise in store for our Dad the very next morning – and I was a part of it.

So last night I drove home (listening to Harry Potter all the way home, driving like a maniac when the knight bus soundtrack came on).
And this morning, when my sister text me to say my Dad had gone out to the beach for a couple hours, I raced over as fast as I could, cat basket in hand and about nine carrier bags full of presents stuffed into my car!

I, too, was about to become a live and human present for my Dad. He didn’t think I was coming home until Christmas Eve, so this was the ultimate gift!

Here’s me, all wrapped up: an early Christmas present:

 

I curled into a ball and lay still on the floor for approximately 30 minutes until he arrived home.

“You have to open it now, Dad. It needs to be opened today,” they said while I lay wrapped in paper, and still.
“I can’t open it now,” he said, “it’s not Christmas! I’ll open it on Christmas Day”.
Then came a lot of loud protest, and I felt him edge towards my wrapped up form. Then, slowly, and carefully, he started tearing the paper and I stifled giggles and deep breaths!

When he finally saw it was me and spied my floral pink dress and dark ebony hair beneath all the wrappings he started laughing and I jumped up and wished him a merry christmas! 

Afterwards, he told me it was the best Christmas gift ever.

Writer Without A Laptop

Currently, I’m without my laptop.

(Cue sad face. With puckered lip)

I am sadly without my laptop for a few days, and right before Christmas too! Christmas time for writers is like Christmassy bliss, where you can get all cosy-ed up in front of the fire or in your bed with a hot water bottle, and drink hot chocolate with your mind full of exploding ideas that practically just leak out of your head.
I’m writing this right now, on my mother’s laptop while I’m sat beside the Christmas tree in her little house. (Because it is so very little).
Meanwhile, my laptop is sat alone unsupervised. It is alone because I’ve left it for my boyfriend to attend to, he wants to write too and we’re sharing a laptop right now. Until he gets one for Christmas.

Oh, please Christmas hurry. Hurry soon.
I am a writer and I crave to write.

Disney Joke

I told you I was a big fan of bad jokes. And this one’s so spectacular that it has a little wordplay in it too!

I came across it in my advent calendar today, and it tickled me silly, so much that I kept it so I thought you could read it too:

 

 

Q: What song did Cinderella sing as she waited four months for her photos to come back from the chemist?

A: ‘Some day my prints will come!’

 

 

Scoop That Poop!

I was making myself a miso cup of soup out in our kitchen just a few moments ago. The kettle was boiling, my Piglet PJs were on, and my mug was waiting there patiently on the side. To my ‘little-things-please-small-minds’ mind, things were pretty much perfect for a little prank on my innocent, sleepy boyfriend in the bedroom.

I squirted the miso from the packet into my coffee coloured mug messily where it landed in a gloopy, brown blob in the base. Mal, my kitten, was happily eating her supper in her grey bowl and I smiled at her. Running into the bedroom with my mug, I whinged at my boyfriend that Mal had just somehow done a little plopper in one of the mugs on the side.

His face when he saw the brown sludge was, somewhat, displeased.

Hobbying Around

Hello! Excuse the awful, awful pun I named as a title, but I couldn’t resist.

I’ve compiled a list of hobbies I enjoy doing. Some may not be qualified as hobbies – my boyfriend is adamant that one particular thing on my list is not a hobby. I’ll just go ahead and let you guess which one that’s going to be.

1. Reading & Books:

It really muddles my mind when friends of mine claim they have “no books to their name”. How can you not have at least one book on your shelf, or in your wardrobe tucked away, under your bed, at least? Come on, at least get a dictionary. It doesn’t have to be a big one, just a little one you may have received as a going away present from school. (Nobody else’s school did that? No?)
I seriously love my books. I love them so much that I keep them in a glass cabinet so they can remain untouched by sticky mayonnaise fingers and unrelenting dust that spirals downwards to fall onto my pretty pages; they remain locked under my guard. Straight up, I full on panic if my books start to discolour and go brown.
I may be a little control-freak over them, but I don’t care. I cry if the pages get ripped.

Once, one fine lady Jeanette Winterson recited:

“Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it. Those who do not do it, think of it as a cousin of stamp collecting, a sister of the trophy cabinet, bastard of a sound bank account and a weak mind.”

This is ultimately how I feel.

2. Tea drinking:

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Drinking tea is a passionate hobby of mine. It’s so perfect – because you can do it alongside other hobbies! Like reading! (Nudge, wink, cheeky face ;D ) I drink any tea that is on offer. When I’m at home, I drink largely peppermint tea because it tastes so good, especially out of a Spongebob Squarepants thermos flask. When I go home from university, I drink either classic caffeinated breakfast tea or herbal infusions berry tea because I always forget to bring my peppermint teabags with me.
When I go to my boyfriend’s house, I drink any tea his mother has in the cupboards, which can range from peppermint and liquorice, and lemongrass tea to deep jasmine tea. My tea hobbying has become so bad that I’ve taken to going to Tea Festivals where I can make my own teabags, and I also stash whatever teabags I can into my bag before leaving a home that isn’t my own.
Apparently, things can only get worse.

3. My Cat:

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Her name is Mal and due to date she is now four iddybiddy months old and getting cheekier everyday! She is my little life companion, and I will admit that I go around the house calling her baby and giving her pretty much everything on my plate at dinner times. This photo of her was taken a couple weeks after I got her.
She is named after Malcolm Reynolds from the American sci-fi TV show Firefly. This way, she can say her name wherever she goes. If she scratches at the door, we will say, “Who is it?” and she will answer her name: “Mal!” If she’s naughty, which she so often is (came home yesterday to find the Christmas tree was on the floor, with the decorations ALSO all over the floor) we’ve taken to swearing at her like the characters from Firefly , “Gorram it, Mal!” I am sorry to those of you who aren’t Firefly fans; this may well mean complete nonsense to you!
She keeps me company throughout the days when I am off work, and cuddles me next to my head when I sleep, pillow to pillow.

5. Knitting:

It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but I’ve not yet really mastered its complexities. And I know anybody who knits will probably just laugh at that sentence because knitting is hardly so complicated. But, for me, it is 😦 I so want to knit a really cool hat or little booties for my cat. I can get so far a straight line stitch, but I’m afraid that is it. I don’t want to have to wait until I’m an old lady to begin knitting. I want to do it now! I have the wool, and I have the knitting needles. I have some really nice gold ones I picked up from a charity shop which are LUSH. But ever since my sister’s chihuahua decided to take a cheeky whizz on my lovely, baby pink ball of yarn, I have been on standby with my knitting efforts.

6. Writing:

I am a writer. I have always loved writing, and ever since I was 12 I always knew that I wanted to be an author. And I will be an author, one day, even if that only means writing a book and failing to ever get it published. I am still an author, because I have written a book. With my name creeping into more published works, my future is looking shiny. That at least, I hope. I sincerely hope. My secret worlds inside me are sometimes dull, sometimes bleak but for the best of times they are always looking bright.

The Smiths and sleep

It seems I am getting the hang of this blogging, if only to just look around and see what other bloggers are doing.

Sadly though, I have been on here longer, much longer, than I anticipated, and it is now nearly 4 o’ clock in the British morning. I was meant to go to sleep five hours ago, so obviously The Smiths has been going around in my head for hours, and hours….
and hours.
I’m tired and I … I want to go to bed

So, I’m going to bed. And I’m not going to stay up all night blogging

Goodnight, TTFN

x

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