Bitch on the Blog

September 9, 2012

Writing with my brakes on

Filed under: Atmosphere — bitchontheblog @ 17:35
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

I am a responsible person. Which is why a lot of my thoughts and observations do not make it into the public domain of my blog. Rather a pity since you don’t know how much you are missing.  Still, sometimes we have to giggle, snort, pontificate and slaughter in private.

Oh, Sweethearts, one thing I have learnt, to my amusement and frustration, that there are always at least two ways of putting something in writing. The one that makes me laugh the most I can’t possibly publish, and I am no coward. I hold it with one of my heroes though can’t say I particularly like the man of whom was said: “No one pisses from a greater height than …. does”. I love pissing from heights – yet withOUT so much as a grain of malice. Just for fun. Which has landed me in so much trouble in my life that, just as I am refining the art, I now have to curb myself sincerely, nay severely.

Well, what do you expect? Once I was a young Beaujolais (drink without delay), now I am a fine Chablis. A bit like those – on purchase – rock hard pears, peaches and avocados which you will have to let ripen (at their own pace) in the privacy of your kitchen. Those of you who have no idea what I am talking about live in California. Or shop at Harrods Food Hall.

And then there is Cider. Are any of you Orchards? Ripe for the picking to find your destiny in smashed form next to a nice bit of roast pork? I can think of at least person who’d make eye watering horseradish next to roast beef. Yes, I know: You can tell it’s Sunday. Roast being on my mind.




  1. Ramana complained about taking care of his 96 yr. old father who had endless demands, (plus the changing of diapers). And he did it for years. The only thing Ramana’s post said was that he died quietly in his sleep. At least 15 people commented “May he rest in peace.”

    I was thinking, good riddance. Now he can have time & live his own life.
    I couldn’t publish that on Ramana’s blog.

    Comment by bikehikebabe — September 9, 2012 @ 19:35 | Reply

    • Exactly, Bike Hike Babe. We are forced to observe certain formalities (which within the limits of courtesy I try to avoid). That’s what is so wonderful about our mind, behind closed curtains as it were: We can think what we like – even if we don’t say it out loud. Not for the life of me could I have said to Ramana, like most did, “Sorry about your loss”. What loss? Putting it brutally: His father’s death is his gain – or at least I hope so.


      Comment by Ursula — September 9, 2012 @ 21:24 | Reply

  2. Sometimes I write something with a certain voice in my head, but when I read it back to myself it sounds snarky or inappropriate. It’s often difficult to convey the mood of a piece but you are definitely becoming more Zen – as in calmer. Though I like the Zin-fandel that is spicy and dark too.

    Comment by writingfeemail — September 9, 2012 @ 19:52 | Reply

    • Renee, I find it endlessly fascinating how one can express oneself on one and the same subject/comment in so many different ways. Benign or snarky? Sarcastic, biting or literal? Even neutral might be an option. My impulse is always to go the more amusing route but, by golly, the damage you can wreck among tender egos is a sight to behold and one which requires an awful lot of clearing up debris, handing out tissues in the aftermath. I will stop at grovelling. I don’t grovel.

      Those who know me also know that I am the first to give them my overcoat in the freezing cold. look after their absolutely intolerable children still in nappies, run errands, wipe brows, cook chicken soup for the soul. Whatever. Nothing is too much for me. In return for which all I want is them to tolerate my running commentary on life. Some do, some don’t. Some find it hilarious, some find it offensive. Which is fine. Few people amuse me more than I do myself. So I try to keep it all under lock and key as best I can. Which is not very well.

      Yes, I too like Zinfandel. By its colour I associate it with summer. So not much of a market for Zinfandel here this year.


      Comment by Ursula — September 9, 2012 @ 21:58 | Reply

  3. Like my ideas that I write down and work, and rework, fruit that’s allowed to over-ripen gets mushy, smelly, and attracts nasty pests. I guess the talent lies in knowing when the piece of writing (or fruit) is just ripe enough for maximum enjoyment during consumption.

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — September 10, 2012 @ 17:20 | Reply

    • Lorna, I couldn’t agree more. A friend of mine is such a perfectionist none of his writing will ever see the light of day. Chiseling every bloody single word. It’s amazing he doesn’t get bored with it all. But then, perfectionists never get bored with their perfectionism. They rather starve instead of finding an agent, a publisher, and an editor. As I keep telling him: Agents, publishers and editors need to eat too, you know.

      Another friend of mine (a painter), a perfectionist too (where do I find them) is different. Not only is his output prolific, he is able to let go after painstaking labour.

      Having read all of your blog (do you remember that long long night when I couldn’t tear myself away?): You are a natural. So don’t turn into mushy apple, just put it in the oven, bake it and it’ll sell like warm bread rolls. Which reminds me: You once mentioned that you won’t incorporate in the book those photos with your hilarious captions. You have been rather mute on this point since.

      Wait a minute: Shouldn’t I ask you this over at yours?


      Comment by Ursula — September 11, 2012 @ 09:34 | Reply

      • I wouldn’t even know how to find the original photographers to try to get copyright permission for all those zany pictures–something I would have to do to include in a book for profit. I will include a few pictures of my own, but my pictures aren’t silly. I’ll just have to let my words get the laughs…

        Comment by Lorna's Voice — September 11, 2012 @ 17:10 | Reply

  4. I’d like to think that when I was young I was like a glass of Coke – all fizz and sweetness. Now I’d like to think I’m more like a cup of tea – a bit stronger. Or maybe chai. Strong and sweet.

    Comment by Maria Perry Mohan — September 12, 2012 @ 11:40 | Reply

    • You’ve got me there, Maria: “Coke – all fizz and sweetness”. That maybe so. But you do know, of course, that when you put a brass coin into a glass of coke, and leave it overnight, you will be amazed to learn the potential havoc Coca Cola can cause your stomach lining.

      “Strong and sweet”? That you are, Maria. A boot camp has nothing on how much your MIL must be testing your patience.

      Good to hear from you again.


      Comment by Ursula — September 13, 2012 @ 08:49 | Reply

  5. A closed mouth catches no flies. (French Proverb – though it sure looks like it was written in English to me) Of course the irony is my avatar is Bill the Cat with mouth wide open trying to catch flies…

    Oh Ursula, you have no idea, no idea at all what goes through my mind as I read so very many things that are said. Amusing – so very amusing!

    Comment by Phil — September 13, 2012 @ 15:06 | Reply

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