Can’t stand not writing and my husband doesn’t have the time to transfer me to another site. Things are crazy busy right now and I haven’t even finished our taxes.
I work hard on writing my blogs, don’t know much about the technical stuff but don’t like it when y’all steal it and peddle it as yours for money. I don’t make any money on this site. and don’t want you to take it from me. I’d rather teach the few thieves how to write. We can trade for technical expertise.
Today we’re talking about a letter that starts with a brief “thank you.” then devolves into demands then has places for lawyers to sign. That’s an invitation to re-sign our lease three months before it is finished and a full month before we are required to give notice.
Don’t get me wrong but I always thought an invitation was something one wrote with an R.S.V.P to someone asking them to dinner or a party. Just as I thought a thank-you note was something one wrote an aunt for a scarf and balaclava, hand-knitted for the holidays.
Yes, I grew up in the olden days, even wear a Pippi Longstocking hat in winter (thanks PDX) but there are no manners these days. Here, no-one stops for pedestrians in designated crosswalks and cars honk all the time, for nothing.
The other day, my dog and I were stepping up on the curb and a car’s owner blasted its horn for 30 seconds just to tell us that we were not allowed on a designated pedestrian crosswalk! Imagine that.
Right now I live above it, but there may be other winds in the air, perhaps not of Polish sausage and beer. Here, one hears Harleys, but I recall a time of itinerant buskers who played bagpipes on the street. Things are different wherever one lives but I’ll always miss the ‘pipes. Perhaps we’ll go to visit one day and actually understand what the cabbie is saying! All I know is that four days in, for months, I was the target of Japanese tourists asking where to get stamps or to get to the correct train station.
My godfather/uncle is named McDonald. I called from Scotland asking if he had any relatives for me to contact for him. He said no, his family had left in the 1700’s to fight the French. But he told me I could say his full name anywhere in town and I’d be stood a pint. I never did it but love him for showing me Scots manners. Aye, manners. Miss Manners, Dear Prudence, et al and the pioneers of this genre as well. May manners be taught to both genders, early on. Cheers, Dee
Cooking with Dee 