This is me and the old man. We've been together since 1979, so I think we're in it for the long haul.
A couple of days ago a friend posted an intriguing thought about how when we introduce ourselves we tend to offer our profession as our identity, and how in other cultures they offer their passions and pastimes instead. I am one of those jammy people for whom there is no real distinction between profession, passion, and pastimes. The things I do are all of the above, and then some.
In my blog I write about anything that comes into my head. It's not planned, and tends to be written all in one go, without any editing (if you read it quickly after publication you even get to see the typos, as I fix those afterwards), in fact it's delivered as if I was sitting talking to you. Or possibly at you. Hence the title.
I have a brain that works constantly and frequently tangenitally* (why does that word suddenly look dirty? Sunburned.....never mind), and which has also been collecting observations and stories for a long time, so I tend to flit from new ideas to memories as frequently as I veer from serious to extremely silly. This is the unexpurgated Melanie, with the one proviso that (for the first time) as I am on a wholly public blog, open to search engines and every Tom, Dick, and Harry, I will not name names or insult anyone without their prior permission. I'm also on hiatus from religion and politics for much the same reason. Family stuff will remain on Facebook where I have control over who reads it.
I welcome new readers, and have no problem with being "shared", I welcome all comments, even disagreement. I don't tolerate uncivil behaviour, however, and anything deemed inappropriate in comments will be removed. My blog, my rules, my decisions. But having left the trolls of Blogster behind, I don't foresee any of that malarkey here.
*I figured out why. There's no such word. How very Freudian