Nobody likes to think that they are a snob, but I think I’ve reached a point in my Maturing as an Adult where I can admit some of my nastier traits publicly (I kid myself that it’s cleansing, but I suspect it’s just self-indulgent and quite probably mean). Here goes…
…I am a major pronunciation snob. When I read this post at visual chronicles, my heart skipped a beat. I’m not alone, there are others! There are others who cringe and twist their hands when someone says pacifically for specifically (or, as Sharon asked on “Kath and Kim“, “And pacifically where in the Specific is your cruise going, Mrs D.?”). It would appear that the further North one ventures in Australia, the richer the pickings. In Sydney, you can watch a film, but if you are a North Queenslander, you watch fillims. Sorry, that should be youse watch fillims. Or you just watch the footy instead. Especially if Norse are playing Souse.
Sadly I have passed the same affliction on to my offspring, who run the risk of becoming sarcastic, derisive teenagers. Whoops! Tautology - sorry!
On a friendlier, happy, happy, joy, joy note, I made a cool shirt yesterday (yes, when I should have been quilting, blah, blah, blah). Oxford collar, French cuffs, freezer paper stencil (again!).

And here’s the Boy, starting his 17th birthday by reading a Playstation Mag before school. Happy Birthday, gorgeous. xxx