Karen Karn

I still want one of these! Red Nokia N76

I read an this article yesterday on story editing - not what you might think. Rather the editing of our own stories. It extolls this as a way of coping with unhappy memories. It may be valid as a way of helping little boys cope with scary monsters, but if there is a way to avoid this phenomonon, I think we could all use a pointer on how to. I remember distinctly, the day I realised that my mother's memory of things that had happened in my lifetime, were not a true representation of what had actually occurred. In our back garden, we had crazy paving. I remember it being laid, seeing the underside of the paving slabs, with their pimpled 'bubble-wrap' surface. As with all home improvements, my mom was at the helm, her small, compact, Irish body sweating over the pieces of broken paving slabs. She was angry then, most of the time. Angry or elated. Cursing mothers who used Baby Buggies with, "They should be put against a wall and shot!", or clutching her h

Today has been the first day back to a normal routine here - school, fo Noah, Kenneth in his room working, me knitting and pottering and such, while watching films and TEDtv. I managed to finish a Christmas present which I will send next week (Constantine interrupts the usual flow of knitting, so projects take longer). While knitting - or crocheting as the case was today - I like to watch TEDtv. Sometimes, I'll get onto a theme and watch videos back to back, which is great. While watching I often think of friends or family who would love or appreciate the talk I've just seen, but, I'm knitting and watching, so I just keep knitting and watching. By the end of the session, I hve a list of videos (or films) to recommend and , in this case, a list of people to resommend them to. A post, I decided, would be the most suitable medium.  First up is a talk by Diane Nyad, which was recommended to me by my darling.  Never, Ever Give Up. Which I followed