I have just spent a very funny evening round at a friend's house, making pancakes whilst reading through a pile of letters that I wrote to her from age 6-13.
The difference in writing style between myself and our peers is astounding. I can't believe nobody took any notice of it. As an example (and we know this because I quoted it in my reply), she wrote:
'Sophie is really ill and we think she might have to be put down. We're all really upset, and not even the vet nose what's wrong'.
Sophie was her dog. We were all 7 at the time. She has several replies from friends, all saying how sad, and that they hope she gets better soon. My reply says 'when you write about knowing something, you write k-n-o-w. N-o-s-e only refers to the nose on your face. Your sentence didn't make sense'.
In fact, each and every one of my letters begins in the same way:
'Dear Rachel,
How are you? I miss you a lot. You are my best friend. You made a few spelling mistakes in your letter. I'll write down the things you got wrong so you know'.
What?! Over the years I have learnt how to write far more socially acceptable letters, but seeing it there in black and white really made me wonder how no one picked up on anything 'different'. Not that it really matters of course; what's done is done. It just surprises me.
Hey ho. It's also International Women's Day today. I can't find any connection with it, so I won't be writing more on that.
Pancake day, or rather, Shrove Tuesday, does strike a chord with me. I wouldn't have eaten pancakes had I not been invited out. It leaves me feeling strangely guilty, as I am not religious, and furthermore have no intention of giving anything up for Lent. I never have, and I probably never will. I have always found it very difficult to understand the way people make their lives difficult or uncomfortable when it is not fully necessary. Don't get me wrong; I do understand if someone has strong religious beliefs - that is an entirely different matter. But many people do not, and certainly the people I know giving up random things for Lent do not. I never understood the 'finish what's on your plate because there are children who are starving' anymore than I understand 'deprive yourself of something you enjoy in memory of a man you don't believe in'. It all seems very fickle to me, and if anything, offensive to those who have a genuine belief.
Each to their own perhaps. And I did eat the pancakes. And they were very nice. One with golden syrup and two with sugar and honey. And I might add, made from scratch, not from a powdered shaker. And the letters, well, there were points where we were actually crying with laughter. Again, I am forced to face the fact that I was lucky to have had so many friends, and for my genuine misunderstanding of how the world works being taken as dry wit.
Pancake day
I have just spent a very funny evening round at a friend's house, making pancakes whilst reading through a pile of letters that I wrote to her from age 6-13.
The difference in writing style between myself and our peers is astounding. I can't believe nobody took any notice of it. As an example (and we know this because I quoted it in my reply), she wrote:
'Sophie is really ill and we think she might have to be put down. We're all really upset, and not even the vet nose what's wrong'.
Sophie was her dog. We were all 7 at the time. She has several replies from friends, all saying how sad, and that they hope she gets better soon. My reply says 'when you write about knowing something, you write k-n-o-w. N-o-s-e only refers to the nose on your face. Your sentence didn't make sense'.
In fact, each and every one of my letters begins in the same way:
'Dear Rachel,
How are you? I miss you a lot. You are my best friend. You made a few spelling mistakes in your letter. I'll write down the things you got wrong so you know'.
What?! Over the years I have learnt how to write far more socially acceptable letters, but seeing it there in black and white really made me wonder how no one picked up on anything 'different'. Not that it really matters of course; what's done is done. It just surprises me.
Hey ho. It's also International Women's Day today. I can't find any connection with it, so I won't be writing more on that.
Pancake day, or rather, Shrove Tuesday, does strike a chord with me. I wouldn't have eaten pancakes had I not been invited out. It leaves me feeling strangely guilty, as I am not religious, and furthermore have no intention of giving anything up for Lent. I never have, and I probably never will. I have always found it very difficult to understand the way people make their lives difficult or uncomfortable when it is not fully necessary. Don't get me wrong; I do understand if someone has strong religious beliefs - that is an entirely different matter. But many people do not, and certainly the people I know giving up random things for Lent do not. I never understood the 'finish what's on your plate because there are children who are starving' anymore than I understand 'deprive yourself of something you enjoy in memory of a man you don't believe in'. It all seems very fickle to me, and if anything, offensive to those who have a genuine belief.
Each to their own perhaps. And I did eat the pancakes. And they were very nice. One with golden syrup and two with sugar and honey. And I might add, made from scratch, not from a powdered shaker. And the letters, well, there were points where we were actually crying with laughter. Again, I am forced to face the fact that I was lucky to have had so many friends, and for my genuine misunderstanding of how the world works being taken as dry wit.
At least we can laugh about it!