The beginning is a good place to begin

The beginning. I arrived. I walked at some point - this would be about the time my shoe fetish kicked off. I talked at some point - my first word was 'disgusting'. I learned my abc and how to string those wordsaaahhh in to-a sentences. Then I started this blog. Oh wait there was the 30 or so years between my toddling tyke years and me creating this blog page today! So why become a bloggeroooa? A close friend recently started a blog and was kind enough to share her word adventuring. It seems like funky fun. I created the blog and I am now trying to figure out what to write about? I guess what do humans have to write about? Maybe just start by introducing myself and over the next while - depending on my attention span for this site/activity - share my experiences, interests or any other random dog poo that seeps from my brain cells through to ma finga's! At the moment I have a sore finger as I burnt it on the oven, but I'll soldier on.....sniff sniff....


I popped out October 1977 in London, England to a foxy 19 year old british lady and a 26 year old guinness dipped irish man. 1977 saw the completion of the World Trade Centre, the return of the Panama Canal to Panama by the USA, Saturday night fever hit the big screen, Elvis croack it and the Bee Gees ask how deep is your love. A few months later my parents decided to move to Ireland and go west. With no money they rented a summer chalet in the midst of winter. The chalet was so damp that woodlice lived on the walls. This is when my interest in entomology started or maybe it was something lacking in my diet? Accordying to my mothers embaressing childhood stories I used to pick the woodlice off the wall and munch munch munch on those juicy suckers. Every potential husband I take to meet my Mum gets the bug story. So that is how I turned into SuperWoodLouse Woman with the amazing powers of woodlice!

I had a great toddlerhood. In most pictures I look pretty buzzed and I am rocking some fairly nifty cord flares. When I was almost three Ian came along. My parents brought him home from hospital and I claimed him as my baby until he rained on my parade (literally he pointed his pencil in my direction and peed on me). Then he was dead to me and I threatened to leave the family crib regularly. There are some pictures that document my feelings around this time with him in his carrier chair and me sitting with the hood of my jacket hanging off my head. As we grew he became quite useful as it turns out. When I was a child I liked to play pretty intricate games and scenarios. My sister refers to hanging out with me as experiencing 'orgainized fun'. She may mock but I know where its at! Ian made a pretty good patient, student, customer, victim, prisoner, client etc. Pretty much I played the lead role and was in charge. As a consequence the wee hedgehog spent some saturday mornings curled up under his bed or in the closet. He got revenge when suddenly he was bigger and bolder than me. That story mainly revolves around great escapes, doc martin boots through doors and general GBH. He is a diamond though and wouldn't trade him for all the shoes in Ivanas wardrobe. In addition to that squirt my parents also had my 22 year old brother Vinny and 17 year old Adele. Great bunch of peeps, except for when someone wants to take charge of the remote control..........I claim first come first served as the oldest!