- The Visitor: Silent Sunday February 4, 2018
- Cow Know How: Three Line Tales February 3, 2018
- Skywatch Friday 2nd February 2018 Noosaville 4.43 pm February 2, 2018
- Beloved: Weekly Photo Challenge February 2, 2018
- Learning to Write: Times Past February 1, 2018
susansleggs on Learning to Write: Times … Klara S on X anywhere: Cee’s Fun Fo… Klara S on Beloved: Weekly Photo Cha… Klara S on Skywatch Friday 2nd February 2… Klara S on Cow Know How: Three Line …
- 5 photos 5 days
- A Lingering Look at Windows
- A Word A Week photo challenge
- A-Z challenge
- Book reviews
- Carrot Ranch
- Cee's Black and white Challenge
- Cee's Fun Foto Challenge
- Cee's Odd Ball Challenge
- Cee's Which Way challenge
- creative writing
- daily events
- Daily Post prompt and challenges
- Eses Weekly Shoot and Quote Challenge
- flash fiction
- Floral Friday
- Friday Fictioneers
- Guest posts
- Historical Perspective
- Look up Look Down
- Macro Monday
- Memoir Monday
- memoir writing
- Nightmare in Paradise
- Past Challenge
- Phoneography Challenge
- road to being published
- Silent Sunday
- Skywatch Friday
- story telling
- Sunday stills: The Next Challenge
- Three Things Thursday
- Thursday's Special
- Times Past
- Travel Theme
- Trog and other Animals
- Weekend Coffee Share
- weekend funny challenge
- Weekend photo challenge
- Weekly Discover Challenge
- Weekly photo challenge
- weekly smile
- Wordless Wednesday
Blogs I Follow
- 96,058 hits
I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
The lighthouse Award
Field of Flowers Award
The Dragon Loyalty Award
Friends and Followers Award
Seven Awards in One
Butterfly Light Award
Writing Process Blog Hop
wonderful team member readership award
Wordpress Family Award
Premier Dardos Award
Inner Peace award
The Very Inspiring Blogger Award
The Very inspiring blogger award
Blogger Recognition award
Highland cattle know, you know. The beast tried to tell him but the slobber coming from his mouth and that pink moist nose made Charles look away, and without the beast’s knowledge they charged Culloden Moor, dropping like flies. It was quickly over but never forgotten but always remembered – the cow is an expert in his field.
In response to Sonya’s three line tale.
All day a gray day as was yesterday and predicted again for tomorrow.
The monsoon has hit.
For skywatch Friday where skies round the world can be seen.
For some it may be a car
but form me and many others
beloved are our furry friends
and as our beloveds’ life ebbs, misty we become.
and children will always be beloved
and they in turn have their beloved.
In response to weekly photo challenge
Following a fiction piece I did for Charli over at Carrot Ranch with the prompt ‘blot’ my piece mentioned a copybook. I was surprised by the number of people who had not heard of a copy book. I asked my Silent Generation husband whether he’d used a copybook but although he had heard of them, he too didn’t know what they were nor had he used one. Perhaps Australia was the only country to retain such a thing into the 1970’s at least.
A comment from Charli suggested that it would be interested to hear how we learnt to write, where we learnt to write and whether this was different between generations and locations. Some writing can be an art form whilst others are illegible. Is it in how we learnt our writing skills?
Please join in giving your location at the time of your memory and your generation. An explanation of the generations and the purpose of the prompts along with conditions for joining in can be seen at the Times Past Page. Join in either in the comments or by creating your own post and linking. Looking forward to your memories.
Baby Boomer: small rural town Australia
I do not recall knowing how to write when I started school and lessons in writing only commenced in the first grade. Kindergarten was exempt from formal activities but we probably started to learn the alphabet and we certainly played shop, learning to count.
Our first writing lessons were done with a pencil. We had to have a HB pencil and we printed our letters. Writing seemed synonymous with increasing our word bank. It wasn’t until we were in grade 4 that running writing lessons began. The form used was modern cursive. This was different to the copperplate that had gone before it but it was no easier to get perfect. It had to have a particular slope and the early books also had lines marking the correct angle. Writing became a subject on its own like social studies. For an hour at a time we would work at perfecting our script. We were given copy books and had to painstakingly copy the sentence on the top of the page over and over. Knuckles were rapped for untidiness and incorrect holding of the pen. Ink blots were a no no.
This was where I fell down. I was blessed I wasn’t a left hander (they were forced to write with their right hand and got into dreadful trouble for both messyness and disobedience) but my technique was seen to be just as heinous. I was right handed but I gripped the pen with two fingers on the shaft and my thumb wrapped around them both. The first joint of my hand went backwards so it lay along the pen shaft and the joint behind raised like a mountain. My teacher pleaded, yelled, slapped, put me outside the room but to this day my pen holding style remains unchanged. My writing was a little more legible then that it is now.
We were right on the cusp of ink and quill and the coming of the BIC biro. I was relieved when we changed to biro in my sixth class as the ink got everywhere but for many years one of my prize possessions was a Parker fountain pen.
And that was how I learnt to write. What do you remember about your writing experience or your childrens? Perhaps they learnt earlier or perhaps typing on a computer is replacing writing. I’m looking forward to reading your memories…….
For those interested in memoir I am doing a series on the second Friday of the month some musings about memoir, about writing one, things to consider when writing a memoir over at Carrot Ranch. I’d love you to join the conversation. And talking of conversation – if I am tardy this month in my response to you please forgive me as I am going to be out of internet range for most of the month as I cruise the high seas. I look forward to the conversation and your memories on my return.
As a child he swung me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He was tall and strong, like the oak tree in the garden, his arms like branches that offered love and protection. I listened to his wisdom and strived to live up to his standards and expectations.
Bit by bit I watched him droop as the life in him burnt out like the oak we were removing from the garden. Mum leaving started it but when I was raped his shoulders became incapable of taking the weight of any potatoes. He hadn’t protected and he hated himself.
Thanks to Rochelle’s prompt for Friday Fictioneers and who also supplied this weeks photo.