Every now and again a phrase or word will pop up and before you can turn around it is EVERYWHERE, like it had always been there, grinning at you smuggly from its pop culture corner. Mostly I hate these words and phrases.
Exhibit A – “Meh” – I’m pretty sure it’s not a word. And it’s an incredibly short way of saying I don’t really agree with what your saying but I can’t be bothered to actually articulate why. It’s lazy and disrespectful. Oh, I get that I’m a word snob. …

This morning we braved sub-zero temperatures to go to the park and take some photos. Ok. It probably wasn’t sub-zero. And drama queen tendencies notwithstanding, I’m told that yesterday was the coldest day in 30 years.
It always amazing how much I enjoy new words. Today it was ‘pel-can!’ (translation: pelican). And as the lone pelican moved away from the shore ‘home. Bye-bye pel-can, soo-soon!’ (translation: see you soon). And even more fun, is the unexpected words that tend to make it into Riley’s vocabulary. We saw a dog on the …

I’ve been concerned about the local schooling options since we moved to the Central Coast. And I realise this post might come off as snobbish. I don’t care. Some things I should embrace a certain level of elitism in. Education is one of them.
When we moved here, I couldn’t drive. So, I caught a lot of public transport. We live just a couple of blocks away from our local primary and high schools. And while I was on public transport I was often sitting next to students/teachers from this particular …

Once upon a time, judgement wasn’t a four letter word. It  used to be known as having good judgement. It used to be admirable, to have a discriminating mind.
I have this idea, that all opinion, is in fact a judgement of one kind or another. All choices are a judgement. But it’s not popular anymore. It’s fallen out of favour, like a bad fad.
Because somewhere along the way my judgement, wasn’t about my choices, it was about what I thought about everyone else’s choices. I don’t think there should be …

I think talking is imminent. She’s started babbling the day away. She does say a few actual words.
Me: It’s bed-time.
Her: No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
Me: Do you want a bottle?
Her: Mum-mo! Mum-mo! Mum-mo!
This is some kind of morphed combination of bottle and milk.
And if at any stage she sees the moon, is looking at a picture of the moon or is reminded of the moon:
Her: Mon! Mon! Mon! Mon! Mon!
It’s exciting to …

I hate that everything is dumbed down.
Newspapers are written at a children’s level.
Big words aren’t used for fear that somebody might actually (shock, horror!) need to utilise a dictionary. The English language is dying, a slow, horrible, excruciating death by steady bastardisation. The loss of vocabulary has indirectly contributed to the loss of wit and satire.
Many years ago someone told me that they only liked modern poetry. They didn’t get the classics. I said nothing at first because it took all of my concentration not to strangle her. Once I …