Blogging Year

Profgrrrl says everyone else is looking back over the year's posts and taking the first sentence from each month. Here are mine and they look pretty representative of the year: a selection of mundane observations, a couple of mediocre jokes, a few unusual vocabulary choices, and a liberal sprinking of fake self-deprecation.

January: A very, very happy new year to you all. (Who did I think I was, the Queen?)

February: I’ve asked my class of student bloggers to post about a typical day in their lives and in a spirit of egalitarianism, I had intended to make my own contribution but it turned out to be excruciatingly boring. (Maybe the self-deprecation wasn't always entirely fake)

March: The Sopranos Season Six starts in the USA on March 12th. Goody, goody (or even baddy, baddy). (I'm sooooo funny)

April: When my Mum moved house a couple of years ago, she arranged to have about a dozen boxes full of miscellania that she'd been storing for me in her loft sent over to France. (I'll show you them some day)

May:
The sun rises bright in France
and so sets he
But he has tint the blink he had
In my ain countree
(I'm speechless)

June: Reading the Muriel Spark obituaries I came across a passage from her autobiography Curriculum Vitae which struck me at the time I read it but which I had since forgotten. (And surprise, surprise I think I've reforgotten it)

July: France is in the grip of football fever. (Talk about stating the bloody obvious)

August: A dozen dozy days in the Dordogne have temporarily (?) rendered me incapable of stringing together anything more than that pathetic attempt at alliteration. (Perhaps I have a future in the flourishing Dordogne expat newspaper industry)

September: A friend tells me that he reads much less during the summer than at other times of the year because he does so many other interesting things when the weather is good. (You could all tell a mile away that that was just an excuse to introduce a list of all the books I had read over the summer)

October: I absolutely love coincidences. (OMG. So do I!)

November: If you get in the car and drive due south of Bordeaux for four hours, you arrive in an area of Spain that is so utterly otherworldly that, well only expressions like utterly otherworldly will do. (I spent a lot of time mulling that one over. Precisely four hours actually)

December : Dear Editor, For several months free issues of your "newspaper for English-speakers in France" have been plopping onto my doormat. (Plopping? And we don't have a doormat)