Why I use favourites on Twitter!

A couple of weeks back I did a post on 'Twitter Lists' and it proved to be very popular.  At the time I was really amazed at how many people didn't use 'Lists', because I know I could not survive Twitter without them - Check it out HERE

The way I look on Twitter is, it is something that in order to maximise it's value without it eating into tons of your day, you have to use as many available functions designed to help manage your time. 

Which is why along with 'Twitter Lists', I use 'Favourites'.

Here are some of my reasons:-

1.
They are a great means of storing information which you know you will want to come back to and review.  For example, if you see details of a competition you are interested in, just store it in favourites, then check out the details nearer the deadline dates etc.

2.
As I said above, they make for better time management - let's suppose you see a tweet with a link that you are interested in reading, but you're rushing out the door - just pop it in favourites and you can check it out at your leisure later on.

3.
Same goes for links to blog post that are too long to read on the spot - put them in favourites, then review and leave your blog comment later when you have a longer period of time available to enjoy them.

4.
They are also a good place to keep great advice - for example tips on writing, tools which you will read and reread to improve your writing skills, or whatever pieces of information are helpful to further your own aims and ambitions.

5.
If you have a blog, they are also a great place to store ideas - A fab image, a brill quote, a discussion topic which you might want to feature on a future blog post - pop them in favs, and they are there waiting for you to pick up whenever you are ready.

Everyone will have their own reasons for keeping favourites, above are a few of mine.  Important to remember however, is that favourites are a bit like clothes hanging in a wardrobe, they are there waiting for you, but you must make regular checks to make sure they are still things you need/want, or you will end up with unnecessary bulk gathering dust.

Do a regular check of your favourites, and whenever you are finished with one, just click 'unfavourite' and like magic it is gone. 

Add your own reason/comment regarding favourites below - you know I always love to hear your thoughts.

Who will take the title of Sock Number 120???

Okay, 2day is the day U could be the 120th Sock

@120 Socks! 

These opportunities only happen once - so if you fancy following this blog -

Thought for the Weekend - Helen Keller

'Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.'

-Helen Keller-

How Times Have Changed - Speechless

As I will be busy being inspired today (no giggles) - I thought this Vintage Advertising might be a good one to feature on account of the fact that it left me rather speechless, not a common occurrence as many of you might have guessed. 

Your thought and comments - very much appreciated as always!

Ethel Rohan - Cut Through The Bone

There are lots of great things about Twitter, not least of which is that you connect with some really good, interesting, and darn nice folk.  You all know who you are, so I don't have to list you here (even though I love lists).

Anyhow (favourite blog/email crutch word), one of these said wonderful folk, is Ethel Rohan.  Ethel is originally from Dublin, but now lives in San Francisco, California.  She is an extremely talented, and successful writer, and someone, who had it not been for Twitter, I might have missed.

I ordered a copy of her short story collection, 'Cut Through The Bone' via Amazon a couple of weeks ago, and the first thing I thought when it arrived was if the contents were as good as the cover, then I was in for a great read.  I was not disappointed.

The first story in the collection, 'More than gone', had the effect on me, that great writing sometimes does.  It inspired me to grab a piece of paper and start writing immediately - which turned out to be the beginning of 'Monkey and the Brain Eater', a story many of you were particularly moved by.  When you read wonderful words, something happens in the brain, at least it does to me, as emotions are connected through the written word - it sends you to a place, a kind of sanctuary, that is pure, deep - a place away from all the complicated busy patterns that often eat away at our lives.

Anyhow (told you my fav blog/email crutch word), back to the matter in hand.  The collection, in my opinion is a triumph, and I haven't even finished it yet.  Why, you might ask - well, I'll tell you.  The second night I was reading 'Cut Through the Bone', I realised that I started to eat up the stories, finishing one, then quickly moving on to another, before I had to shout 'stop', an imaginary 'stop' mind, because I didn't want to wake hubby.  I realised that this is a collection which needs to be savoured.  Each short story deserves its own place, and no matter how wonderful, and tempting it might be to read a number of them every evening, it would be the wrong way to approach them. 

So now, I have the book by my bed, and before I retire for the night, having said goodbye to all the daily madness that is life, I know I am in for a treat, as I get to savour the joy of reading another gem from this collection.  For sure, a book that will be on my favourite book shelf.

Brief Intro to Collection:
In this stripped-raw collection, Ethel Rohan's thirty stories swell with broken, incomplete people yearning to be whole.  Through tight language and searching scenarios, Rohan brings to life a plethora of characters -exposed, vulnerable, and achingly human.

You can visit Ethel's blog HERE, or else via MY BLOG LIST in the sidebar.

'Cut Through The Bone', is available to order as a paperback, or kindle ebook via Amazon here @ http://tinyurl.com/6kvg2p5

Go order it, you won't be disappointed!

Flash Fiction Piece - Love Remembered

This is the piece that drove me crazy a couple of weeks back - trying to get it right - not sure if I achieved it, but at least, it's now done.

Love Remembered

They say there is a poem for every stage of love, even love lost and love remembered.  Some say words can trick, obscure, but what we had seemed real, crushing; like sharp breath somehow.

     When you think of me now, how have I been written into memory? If we passed each other on the street, or heard one another speak, touched; would what we had rekindle?  ‘Love me,’ you said, like it was something you could request, though when you did, in the small cocoon that was Paris, I said ‘yes’, both of us playing with dreams, wanting place and time to capture them.

     Looking back, I can see us walking ghostlike through the long corridors of the Louvre, your hand holding mine; I can smell the aroma of coffee from the cafe-lined streets of Montmartre, a city alive, vibrant, filled with the joy of new love.   We admired different artists you and I.  I conjured an interest in Picasso, wanting to please.  You didn’t know that about me then, my eagerness to impress.  You only ever saw what I put on show, but what I put on show, you liked a lot.  I could tell this, by how your eyes came to life over some slight remark I’d make, or occasions when I’d catch you looking, as if I’d taken you by surprise; a special gift to delight in. 

     The nights wrapped our secrets, our love-making intense, heightened, two people at their closest in the dark.  By day we became regular tourists, enjoying the sights, gothic Notre Dame with its light and shadows, the moving quiet of crowds, our walk along the Seine, the brisk wind howling as we devoured fresh bread rolls from the boulangerie.  The smells, sights and sounds of an old place new to us.  You teased, whispered in my ear; if it was up to you, we'd be still in our hotel bedroom.

     At the restaurant that last night, even our words began to fade, spoil; lose themselves as smoke disperses into air.  When I spoke, you were no longer excited by my words; I found your humour less enchanting.  There was impatience in your voice, as if reality was my fault somehow.  I was snappy too, but shifted blame for change of mood your way.  I even said something harsh about your wife, although I had no right to.  You looked back at me, angry, disapproval in your eyes, as if I’d settled into the expected form, and in your change of look, I wondered, which number I’d become?

     On our walk back to the hotel, I stopped you; held your arm, put my hands to your darkened face, felt the stubble of new growth, captured your breath.  You smiled your smile, the one that caught me unawares from the very first day. We kissed long and hard.  I took what I could from it, our final verse, sensing the end, just like day senses night.     

How Times Have Changed - For better or for worse?

Ah you've just got to love these old advertisements.  This is from the 1950's, and it brought a wee smile to my face.  I mean just look at how happy they are with their new addition.

Now, some of you might be shocked about the wording, 'The Chef does everything but cook - that what wives are for!'  But, I'm thinking it must be a pretty impressive machine if it can do all the other stuff like, ironing, cleaning, picking up groceries, bathing the kids - the list is endless.

But think on, what would this magic machine have to do today?  Let's see - well there would be all the stuff mentioned earlier, and of course the picking up of the children from creche, and driving them to all parts of the city for a variety of ballet lessons, horse-riding, football - not to mention keeping down a full time job, you know the kind of thing - what the guy with the wife used to do, when she did everything.  Oh darn, forgot about the magic Chef doing it all! 

Ah, if only things were like they used to be, and we could be happy with a nice white chef hat, and a man in a suit.  Such a lovely couple!

Comments foks, or any suggested additions to the list of jobs that Magic Chef would now have to do today!

Thought for the Weekend - Nancy Thayer

'It's never too late - in fiction or in life -  to revise.'

- Nancy Thayer-

Who was your first best friend?

I don't know about the rest of you, but I am really enjoying these posts about When you were small, and the main reason I'm enjoying them, is because you have all been fantastic about sharing your stories.  I hope this next trip down memory lane, will facilitate some more gems.

So, this week's topic, in case you haven't read the title is 'Who was your first best friend?'

We all probably agree that friends, real friends are brilliant. They become a great part of your life, one that isn't like your immediate or extended family, your partner, your boss, your bank manager, but they are the guys that you often turn to, when all the other categories don't quite fit.

With real friends, you know, if you are in trouble, or in need of advice,in a second, they will be there, and likewise, you would do the same for them.  They are there in a mini crisis, when really they should tell you, they are too busy, or go away - but when you say the magic words - Can I ask you something?- They will listen, and unless it's for your own good, will oblige.

So I got to thinking about best friends, and first best friends, and probably like most people, I remember my first best friend really well. Perhaps because, friends are your first links outside of the family nest. 

In my case, her name was Betty, and she came from a family where the children managed to get into the double figures.  This was not an unusual in good old Catholic Ireland, but being the youngest in a family of four children myself, despite my fondness for Betty, I was also very envious of her.  I mean, I wanted a baby sister or brother too.  I wasn't bothered whether it was a boy or a girl, I just wanted a baby, someone younger than me, that I could mind, etc etc.

Of course, as a child, I didn't see the real hardship associated with having children in double figures, especially when money was in very short supply.  Nor did I fully grasp the fact that, after me, my Mam did have two more children, neither of which survived beyond the first days of birth, but I do remember Betty.  The reason being, she was my friend, my best friend, someone I could confide in.

I am not sure what I learnt from my early relationship with her, other than the very real sense, that my life was better for having her in it.  In part this might be why, I value friends so much today.  There are a lot of people in this world, but friends are in shorter supply than one might think.  If you manage to find one, a good one, hold on to them, they are irreplaceable.

So who was your first best friend?  Do you still know them now?  Were you jealous of them?  Did you outgrow them?  Lots of questions, can't wait to hear your answers.

The Age Old Argument - Who are the better drivers?



BMW Ad 1970's



We have all got hot under the collar in the past regarding the above question, and there are as many views as there are people, however most would agree at this point that statistically women win out where accident are concerned, generating fewer and less costly claims.  Up until the recent directive from the EU - female drivers got far cheaper insurance than their male counterparts, because in the numbers game that is insurance, fewer costly claims generated by women, meant lower risk, therefore lower cost.

It would seem according to this link HERE, that men tend to break the rules more, receive more traffic offenses for speeding etc, and in part because of this, when they do have an accident, it tends to be a more severe one.  Also it is noted that female drivers are beginning to narrow the gap, bringing more aggression into their driving.  I will leave the analysis of the data to yourselves, but the general feeling behind the article it would appear, is that women currently are more minor 'fender-benders' than complete 'write-off' of the car.  So with the latter in mind, perhaps this Vintage Ad. from 1960's isn't that far off the mark!

(For those of you who find it difficult to read the small print above...)

Women are soft and gentle, but they hit things.  If your wife hits something in a Volkswagen, it doesn't hurt very much...........So when your wife goes window-shopping in a Volkswagen, you can conveniently replace anything she uses to stop the car - including the brakes!