Misspelled Milk and Spilled Words

Greetings from the world of blog, which is somewhere between my little house in Fenton and Alice's looking glass which may or may not be out of the country completely. If you subscribe to the Fenton Patch you read wonderful bits of news and the grandest events, along when and how to celebrate them.

I am celebrating my own holiday here and I am calling it "Oops". All you have to do is write for public view and rely on your own mind for spelling and punctuation. Mr. Webster and I have very often disagreed on the correct spelling of many words. I honestly would put money on the fact that he probably gave up and just spelled things as they sounded now and again. Spellcheck and I battle as I try to remove the little red wavy lines under a word which tells me i finally got it right until I throw the word out and use another one.

I am more or less trained to write on paper with good penmanship in loopy elevated cursive, to family and friends who understand my good intentions. They also know that I invent words and double my vowels and consonants to read, indescribable emotions, or perhaps just mirror my own dialect. Considering that I am not a Vanderbuilt or Windsor, not even closely related to a Kennedy [I do know a Kennedy, but that is her first name and I have been corrected already in spelling that.

I just want to say, please, pardon my goofs and don't think too badly of my efforts....or is that efforts? Nope...It really is, efforts and I am trying very hard to make something nice under my name.

When milk is spilled there is no choice except to run for a towel and clean it up, but written words are entirely different. If every word in every book was spelled perfectly, and every grammatical error amended, we would not get the flavor of the voice speaking.

While I am entertaining myself writing, I honestly want to share that and entertain other people to the point where they may joke with themselves and share a little thing with someone else. Maybe a here to now speaking voice may be swayed to write back to me, or to a venue and make things more interesting.

My own English teacher who was very proper and had a very red pen would take out at least half my words...but then what's left? I came, I wrote I checked until I proved it all irrelevant or worse...forgot what I wanted to say.

It really is a beautiful day in the neighborhood...and not just because Mr. Rodgers proclaimed that in his daily children's program.

How about this bit of a thought, as seen on a T-shirt.....

Visual Eyes Whirled Peas

or it's corrected version

Visualize World Peace.

Gratefully,

Mary