Terry’s Blog

 


Welcome to my blog. A place for me to share my thoughts, ramblings and pearls of wisdom.

Scamper's Find. A taster...

A four year old unsolved crime that had baffled law enforcement agencies in USA, picks up momentum when an inquisitve dog and a stumbling cyclist start a chain of events in Scotland, UK.

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WITH APOLOGIES TO HAMLET

To Tweet or not to Tweet, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the confusion and anguish of learning the skill of twittering and tweeting, or stick with email and facebook. Could I cope with hashtag, retweets, geolocation and the like? Should I jump headlong into a new technological and confusing system or stay in my comfort zone?

An author whom I met at a book event recommended Twitter. 'Twitter is an author's friend', she said, so, in for a penny, in for a pound, I have joined the merry band of Twitters.

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A Pill To Die For

I picked up a prescription for my husband and it brought back memories of a time when I was glad I did not swallow the pill. I often react badly to antibiotics and make a point of reading the leaflet for all prescibed drugs. On this particular occasion, the side effects were nothing out of the ordinary until the last one, 'and on rare occasions, death'. Needless to say I was glad I did not swallow the pill. The moral of this little tale is always read the small print.

Have you ever regretted or been thankful for the small print?

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Bedroom Antics

Dear reader, don't get excitied,I don't do erotica. I attended a Burns Supper where Rabbie's poem, 'To A Mouse' was referred to, which got me thinking about another 'wee sleekit, timorous beastie' in my life. This little ditty took place some time ago when on holiday in Wales. Our room backed on to a wood. It was a stuffy, murky night, the window was open (first mistake) and in the wee small hours my husband woke me up saying:

'Don't panic',( second mistake) 'put your head under the bedclothes and stay still, there's a bat in the room'.

Being a tad claustrophobic, I hate having anything over my face and if someone tells you not to panic...what do you do? Panic! My animal loving husband pranced around the room attempting to catch the elusive bat, who, I'm sure had no more wish to be there than I wanted his presence in my room. Eventually, the wee beastie was safely caught in a towel, with hubby reassuring the thing that it was safe.

'Oh, it's wee heart is racing', he said.

It's wee heart was racing! Mine was in overdrive.

'It's only a flying mouse'. (mistake number three).

If there's one thing I don't like, it's furry wee objects; things that go, well, like bats out of hell.

For the remainder of the holiday the window remained firmly shut.

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New website, new blog

Blog is up and running on Rabbie Burns Day, so a wee quote from the man himself:

Then let us pray that come it may,

As come it may for a' that..

That man to man, the world o'er,

Shall brothers be for a' that.



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