Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end.
So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.
It's hard to imagine a "Tiffany" in an old age home with her teeth in a glass on the bedside table. I think we should go back to the practice of calling everyone by his or her surname with a polite title in front of it.
Some names are just that...Names. Some have infamy attached, such as "Adolph" or "Brutus". The name game has been crazy since Hollywood put their 2-cents in. LOL.
I'm partial to the names Daniel and Ryan because of my favorite guys in music, and I believe Daniel was one of the best Bible characters... Right now I'm in the process of developing a fascinating Dan over at "Reflections"
Clarence was my mother's father but they called him Whitey due to his pale blond hair. My father's mother was Bertha, a name killed by WW2.
My best friend was given the name Alex. His grandmother called him Kevin so we did too. I can't dislike a Kevin when I meet one. Mark is another fond name.
Ned Apr 24, 2025 at 10:39am In response to "Spectrum"
Scientists have just discovered a new color they are calling "olo". Only seven people have seen it.
If I cannot see it, I might suspect that very thing.
Being the first-born myself......and the first born grandchild on both sides......I later became the Black Sheep of the family, even disowned at one point (this was in the mid-70s, so that might shed some light on things!) because I was no longer "perfect" in my father's eyes. That did not last long, however, and I turned out just fine! (although I never lived up to my potential)
I held the whole matter of the existence of Santa Claus in the realm of the dubious (but useful) until I was twelve. I did not then decide on the facts available (they were, after all, contradictory) but stayed awake all night to see for myself. Having ascertained the truth from this experiment, I had the good sense not to noise it abroad and so ensured continuation of the tradition for a few more years.
Interestingly, my son, Mad, managed to keep the thing going well into his late teens, even though we all knew that he knew and he knew that we knew. He was always a charming blighter...
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