Dirtying Hands
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Addicted to the written wor(l)d

28/7/2013

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Image by anantns at flickr.com
A reading light could be the most useful treasure for a young Book Worm set upon exploring the written world, instead of sleeping. A torch, even, for the more rebellious.

When I was a child, I would sometimes read until dawn broke across the sky, too enchanted to feel tired. My mum soon grew weary of turning off my light and took to confiscating my books, so I could fall asleep.

This, of course, wouldn’t do. I was a rebel with a cause, I had to find ways to be sneaky, and find them I did.
                      
--->

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Blushing like a beetroot

24/7/2013

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Nothing to see here....
“Melissa, what ARE you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just rubbing sliced beetroot on my cheeks, don’t mind me.”

“Um.” *long pause* “Have you lost your mind?”

Yes, yes I have.

And happily so, if that’s the price to pay for “naturally flushed” cheeks, at no cost to the environment or my health.
            --->

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