Unkempt lawn or mysterious jungle?

Child and a puppy in a garden
This is not a picture of me. I’m not a dog.

When I was a kid, my parents lived near a lovely couple with a large garden who rarely (possibly never) mowed their lawn. The result was a sprawling jungle of knee- or possibly thigh-high grass stalks, intermingled with daisies, dandelions, dock, clover, and ubiquitous bees.

In other words, paradise.

A bunch of neighbourhood children used to play there, and it never occurred to us that not everyone was equally delighted by the unmown lawn.

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The shy person’s guide to work travel

Guinea pig
This guinea pig is shy, but you wouldn’t know it to look at her.

I was travelling for work this week, and I learned an important coping strategy for shy people that I’m about to share with you.

Despite your shyness, you’ve been a stellar employee at the unicorn feather wholesale firm where you work, and you’ve been promoted. Congratulations!

Enjoy that corner office with the leather couch (not unicorn leather), the personal assistant, and the extra zero in your pay cheque (hopefully at the end, not the start).

But before you pop open a bottle of champagne, you might want to consider the downside of your promotion: you’ll be expected to travel for work.

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How to make a dragon fly

A dragon that can't fly
A dragon. Sort of. It can’t fly.

I said I wasn’t going to write about writing (much), and you’ll see I’m not. I’m writing about dragons, and that’s entirely different.

The seed of the idea for my current work in progress comes to me when I’m watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. My thought process goes approximately like this: “Wow, fantasy is more fun than real life. I want to write a book about dragons.”

I didn’t say it made sense.

Having made this decision, I have to deal with the big question faced by everyone who decides to write about dragons: How do I make them fly? My physics is a little rusty, but I’m guessing any creature as big as a truck would need football field-sized wings, and if its muscles could even get up the strength to move them, flapping would snap its bones in two.

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New Zealand’s had another earthquake

Broken eggs
Feeling a bit like this this morning.

Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our usual programme for this unscheduled blog post.

I’m a rules kind of person myself, but I try not to impose my rules on others. Even to me, it seems a bit unreasonable to expect everyone else to drink the same coffee every day and sit on the same side of the table. (As long as I get my usual coffee and sit on the proper side of the table I’m happy.)

But I do have one rule that I’d like to insist on, especially in light of last night’s events.

The ground should not move.

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The introvert’s guide to choosing a foreign language

Pretty writing
This probably isn’t in a foreign language, but I can’t read cursive so it may as well be.

You want to learn a foreign language, and you’re an introvert.

You don’t need me to point out the irony. There are a maximum of five people in the world you actually want to talk to and they’re all people you’re close to. In other words, they all speak your language.

Okay, I pointed it out. I’m like that.

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