I am the Queen of disjointed thinking. I like your hat! :-D

I love this. I have nothing more to add.

Around Here

My Year 12 English teacher was one of those lovely, scary women who change the way you see the world forever. She reigned over the class with a girlish voice and greying hair pulled tightly into a bun. She blushed over the risque parts of our VCE texts, but even more so over a negligent spelling error. Leaving out a comma or using slang would elicit a look that made you feel like a naughty toddler.

We were taught that correct grammar was important, that punctuation mattered, and that flawless spelling was of the utmost importance. The essays I wrote that year were so beautifully crafted that I now have difficulty believing that I wrote them. As much as we complained and misbehaved, we delivered our best because Mrs Gordon expected it of us, and she believed we could achieve it.

This goes some way to explain why these days…

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