Why is the laundry more important?
- Thread starter wildsweetone
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wildsweetone
i am what i am
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Oh No! Not THE COMPLEX!!! fight it dear!
by the way, nobody else is reading this thread anyway
hmm, well only
Bridget
DVS
Jon
Leslie
Quasi
SlickTony
Svenskaflicka
me
today, i held down two jobs (for payment), did the housework, vacuuming and LAUNDRY, some editing for another author... hmm what else... oh yeah, and i drank decaf.
i was just thinking... do you not like my wit DVS? i shall try and curb it a little for you, maybe
oh Quasi by the way! i know what you mean in your sig. about the dirty neck thing. mine happened when i was about 8. i used to stay at my grandparents a lot. one summer my Nana was checking i washed behind my ears... to my surprise she grabbed hold of me and took me back into the bathroom.
man she wielded that wet soapy facecloth like a crazed woman. she rubbed my neck until it shone red. then she phoned my mum and apologised to her. she had taken off one layer of skin, apparently i'd been so sunburnt that the tan went a muddy colour around the back of my neck. i still laugh about it when i remember her on the phone.
sometimes i wish i could still go stay with them. it was such fun. i used to get spoiled rotten. toast and blackcurrant jam, rushing inside when i first arrived and checking out my little shelf beside the fireplace to see what had been saved and put there to play with... usually little empty boxes.
actually, i distinctly recall taking the wings off a fly and putting it in a box resting on cotton wool. it got so dizzy buzzing around in circles on the table top.
by the way, nobody else is reading this thread anyway
hmm, well only
Bridget
DVS
Jon
Leslie
Quasi
SlickTony
Svenskaflicka
me
today, i held down two jobs (for payment), did the housework, vacuuming and LAUNDRY, some editing for another author
... hmm what else... oh yeah, and i drank decaf.i was just thinking... do you not like my wit DVS? i shall try and curb it a little for you, maybe
oh Quasi by the way! i know what you mean in your sig. about the dirty neck thing. mine happened when i was about 8. i used to stay at my grandparents a lot. one summer my Nana was checking i washed behind my ears... to my surprise she grabbed hold of me and took me back into the bathroom.
man she wielded that wet soapy facecloth like a crazed woman. she rubbed my neck until it shone red. then she phoned my mum and apologised to her. she had taken off one layer of skin, apparently i'd been so sunburnt that the tan went a muddy colour around the back of my neck. i still laugh about it when i remember her on the phone.
sometimes i wish i could still go stay with them. it was such fun. i used to get spoiled rotten. toast and blackcurrant jam, rushing inside when i first arrived and checking out my little shelf beside the fireplace to see what had been saved and put there to play with... usually little empty boxes.
actually, i distinctly recall taking the wings off a fly and putting it in a box resting on cotton wool. it got so dizzy buzzing around in circles on the table top.
Last edited:
Quasimodem
Literotica Guru
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Being 'Raised' By Granny.
I really got to know my grandmother, once our family moved into the city. After that, I spent most of my summer vacations on my grandfather's farm.
Granny had this truly effective way of getting my attention.
She had strong, work-toughened hands, with which she could catch the lobe of my ear, between her thumb and forefinger. Once the lobe was gripped, she would twist the lobe, to ratchet it high enough to lift me onto my toes.
As long as I stood on my tiptoes, my ear didn't feel too mangled - just pinched. While in that position, she would inform me what my particular transgression had been - this time. When we had agreed that I had erred, she would extract a promise that I would do what was needed, to remedy the situation.
Her other weapon, was a big wooden spoon that she usually had in her hand. She stood five feet nothing. Her kitchen was twelve by eighteen feet, with a big wood stove, a large kitchen table, with counters and cupboards on three sides. When she grabbed her spoon, no matter where she was, nor how quickly I dodged, she never missed.
Her philosophy on child rearing, as I remember her explaining it to me, was: "You're not too big to hit!"
I still have dings in my head-bone which I feel certain that a forensic autopsy would be able to link to that spoon. These days, she would probably be incarcerated for child battering, but I am forced to admit, I earn every swot, and a good deal more.
Alternately, when I was good - which, as I recall, was seldom - she would buy cream buns from the milkman, for my dessert.
[ Remember when whipped cream still had something to do with dairy products?]
I really got to know my grandmother, once our family moved into the city. After that, I spent most of my summer vacations on my grandfather's farm.
Granny had this truly effective way of getting my attention.
She had strong, work-toughened hands, with which she could catch the lobe of my ear, between her thumb and forefinger. Once the lobe was gripped, she would twist the lobe, to ratchet it high enough to lift me onto my toes.
As long as I stood on my tiptoes, my ear didn't feel too mangled - just pinched. While in that position, she would inform me what my particular transgression had been - this time. When we had agreed that I had erred, she would extract a promise that I would do what was needed, to remedy the situation.
Her other weapon, was a big wooden spoon that she usually had in her hand. She stood five feet nothing. Her kitchen was twelve by eighteen feet, with a big wood stove, a large kitchen table, with counters and cupboards on three sides. When she grabbed her spoon, no matter where she was, nor how quickly I dodged, she never missed.
Her philosophy on child rearing, as I remember her explaining it to me, was: "You're not too big to hit!"
I still have dings in my head-bone which I feel certain that a forensic autopsy would be able to link to that spoon. These days, she would probably be incarcerated for child battering, but I am forced to admit, I earn every swot, and a good deal more.
Alternately, when I was good - which, as I recall, was seldom - she would buy cream buns from the milkman, for my dessert.
[ Remember when whipped cream still had something to do with dairy products?]
Last edited:
SlickTony
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Y'all were lucky to get to see your grandparents more often. Mine lived up in Nebraska, and I came up in Texas. My dad moved down there because that was where his first (and only) real job was; besides, I think they felt that the secret to marital longevity lay in being as far away as possible from one's in-laws.
DVS
A ghost from your dreams
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Man, this thread is sure doing some fancy stitching. So, we are talking about grand parents now, and disciplining?
Well, I was very young when my father's mother died, and don't really remember her. I wasn't even born when my mother's father died. My father's father was killed by accident when he went out his back door to shoot some crows that were on his garage.
It was a windy day and the door blew back and hit him, and the gun went off and hit his heart. I do remember him, and he would always give me a shiny 50 cent piece, when I came to visit. I think I was about 9 years old, when he died.
I don't remember much more about him, I'm sorry to say. He was a county judge, and very well liked in his town, but what I really remember most was seeing his body lie in state.
My mother's mother was the only grand parent I remember very well. She lived a long time, and saw many, many grand kids. There were 5 generations living at one time, and very near 6, before she died. My cousins were quite active in that area.
Shit, one of my mother's sisters had 8 girls. Yes, they were catholic. And, of those 8 girls, ALL had at least 2 kids. Most had many more. And, they had kids, and they had kids, and well you get the picture.
Anyway, she could cook, man! My grandmother made some some great fried chicken. And, cakes and pies...WOW! My mother was also a great cook and I know where she got her training.
My grandmother (grandma) was very happy, in her old age. Every thanksgiving and every Christmas she had her offspring come to visit. And, I am not talking a few kids. She had 4 daughters and 1 son. From those 5 kids came over 50 people. Now days, I am sure it is more. She died in 1979, so all of this was before then.
And, there were several instances of twins in this family. The 8 daughters were the ones who started that. I think there were 4 sets of twins from them alone.
I can still remember dinners at grandma's house. She had actual butter! I first thought there was something wrong with it, because I was use to margarine. And, the milk was from a cow on the farm, the beef was too. And the eggs were straight from the chicken. Can you imagine how good the food tasted?
Yes, I was a city kid, and going to grandma's was always a real treat.
Oh, she NEVER was mean to me. EVER! She was a sweetheart! Now, on the other hand, my mother never was much of a mean woman, but she did have her moments. I remember one day she threw a dish at me.
Being very agile, I dodged it, and it hit the side of our TV. She yelled at me "see what you made me do?" Well, I didn't see it the same way, as she did. She was the one who threw the dish. Was I not suppose to move out of the way and let it hit me? Was I suppose to catch it and throw it back?
I don't remember what I had done, or if I had done anything at all. I was too fast for her, so I guess she thought throwing something would be the best method.
I also remember my dad would not be much for getting mad. I had great parents. But, there were times when he would get mad. The problem with that was his face struck me as humorous, when he would get mad, and I would tend to smile.
He thought I was laughing at his authority, and would get even more mad. So, I was pretty damn good at running the other way, I must say.
No, I never told him about this. Maybe I should have, but I just didn't know how to bring it up. I had a great childhood. I was never grounded, and never got any kind of allowance.
If I needed money for something I had to explain why I did. If I explained it to my dad's satisfaction, and he agreed with me, he would give it to me. If not, I was on my own.
And, I didn't have many boundarys in my childhood. I could go anywhere in town (small town of 2000) that I wanted to. But, it was no fun going alone, and other kids couldn't always go. So, I think my parents were a bit sneaky. I could go, but didn't because my friends couldn't.
I hope you didn't fall asleep on this message. If you did...WAKE UP! IT'S OVER!!
Well, I was very young when my father's mother died, and don't really remember her. I wasn't even born when my mother's father died. My father's father was killed by accident when he went out his back door to shoot some crows that were on his garage.
It was a windy day and the door blew back and hit him, and the gun went off and hit his heart. I do remember him, and he would always give me a shiny 50 cent piece, when I came to visit. I think I was about 9 years old, when he died.
I don't remember much more about him, I'm sorry to say. He was a county judge, and very well liked in his town, but what I really remember most was seeing his body lie in state.
My mother's mother was the only grand parent I remember very well. She lived a long time, and saw many, many grand kids. There were 5 generations living at one time, and very near 6, before she died. My cousins were quite active in that area.
Shit, one of my mother's sisters had 8 girls. Yes, they were catholic. And, of those 8 girls, ALL had at least 2 kids. Most had many more. And, they had kids, and they had kids, and well you get the picture.
Anyway, she could cook, man! My grandmother made some some great fried chicken. And, cakes and pies...WOW! My mother was also a great cook and I know where she got her training.
My grandmother (grandma) was very happy, in her old age. Every thanksgiving and every Christmas she had her offspring come to visit. And, I am not talking a few kids. She had 4 daughters and 1 son. From those 5 kids came over 50 people. Now days, I am sure it is more. She died in 1979, so all of this was before then.
And, there were several instances of twins in this family. The 8 daughters were the ones who started that. I think there were 4 sets of twins from them alone.
I can still remember dinners at grandma's house. She had actual butter! I first thought there was something wrong with it, because I was use to margarine. And, the milk was from a cow on the farm, the beef was too. And the eggs were straight from the chicken. Can you imagine how good the food tasted?
Yes, I was a city kid, and going to grandma's was always a real treat.
Oh, she NEVER was mean to me. EVER! She was a sweetheart! Now, on the other hand, my mother never was much of a mean woman, but she did have her moments. I remember one day she threw a dish at me.
Being very agile, I dodged it, and it hit the side of our TV. She yelled at me "see what you made me do?" Well, I didn't see it the same way, as she did. She was the one who threw the dish. Was I not suppose to move out of the way and let it hit me? Was I suppose to catch it and throw it back?
I don't remember what I had done, or if I had done anything at all. I was too fast for her, so I guess she thought throwing something would be the best method.
I also remember my dad would not be much for getting mad. I had great parents. But, there were times when he would get mad. The problem with that was his face struck me as humorous, when he would get mad, and I would tend to smile.
He thought I was laughing at his authority, and would get even more mad. So, I was pretty damn good at running the other way, I must say.
No, I never told him about this. Maybe I should have, but I just didn't know how to bring it up. I had a great childhood. I was never grounded, and never got any kind of allowance.
If I needed money for something I had to explain why I did. If I explained it to my dad's satisfaction, and he agreed with me, he would give it to me. If not, I was on my own.
And, I didn't have many boundarys in my childhood. I could go anywhere in town (small town of 2000) that I wanted to. But, it was no fun going alone, and other kids couldn't always go. So, I think my parents were a bit sneaky. I could go, but didn't because my friends couldn't.
I hope you didn't fall asleep on this message. If you did...WAKE UP! IT'S OVER!!
wildsweetone
i am what i am
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memories
my dad was the one who diciplined in our family. if we'd done something wrong, boy we were left in no doubt that we were in trouble.
i remember once, my parents rented or borrowed some of my dad's parent's land, and grew vegetables and fruit. strawberry plants here are grown in long rows of mounds. the mounds are covered in black plastic - to keep the ground warm for the roots. the strawberry plants are put into the ground at the top of the mound. between each row we had to spread out hay. this would keep the weeds down, so we were told.
well, this one year, i was really pissed off. i guess i must have been about 11. i really didn't want to help put the hay between the rows. i ended up doing it in a grumpy mood, not bending and using my hands once. instead i kicked the hay about between the rows with my gumbooted feet. occasionally i'd accidentally kick a great hole in the plastic on the mound, then i'd bend and cover it with as much hay as i could.
unfortunately, my dad had been watching. my foul temper was never lost on him. this particular time, he grabbed me by the ear (oh yes i remember the ear yank), and marched me back to the house... about 100 metres away. my ear was numb by the time we arrived there.
i wished my bottom and legs had been, it took a while after the strap (his leather belt that held his trousers up) hit a few times before the numbness started. oddly enough, he seemed to know and stopped then.
oh yeah, the wooden spoon. i know it well. and the rubber spatula. my mother (when dad was at his 11 hour a day job) used to resort to wooden spoons. at least she did until she realised how much it was costing her to replace them after wacking my brothers and breaking them constantly. then she moved up a notch, to the rubber spatula. i'm squirming on my seat right now in vivid memory.
i hit my own kids once with a wooden spoon each, and once with the rubber spatula... they were very young, and the pain i felt at doing it was way more than the pain from the light tap i gave them. so i grew up and taught myself that it was easier to take away some cherished toy for a time. i'm lucky, i could so easily have continued punishing my kids in the harsh manner i was. the conscious choice not to, was one of the best choices i've ever made.
my nana would visit us every weekend. each time she came she brought with her little white paper bags with lollies. i guess she would have spent something like 20c to fill each bag. on top of that, she would give us 50c pocket money.
wow the memories are rushing in.
thank you
my dad was the one who diciplined in our family. if we'd done something wrong, boy we were left in no doubt that we were in trouble.
i remember once, my parents rented or borrowed some of my dad's parent's land, and grew vegetables and fruit. strawberry plants here are grown in long rows of mounds. the mounds are covered in black plastic - to keep the ground warm for the roots. the strawberry plants are put into the ground at the top of the mound. between each row we had to spread out hay. this would keep the weeds down, so we were told.
well, this one year, i was really pissed off. i guess i must have been about 11. i really didn't want to help put the hay between the rows. i ended up doing it in a grumpy mood, not bending and using my hands once. instead i kicked the hay about between the rows with my gumbooted feet. occasionally i'd accidentally kick a great hole in the plastic on the mound, then i'd bend and cover it with as much hay as i could.
unfortunately, my dad had been watching. my foul temper was never lost on him. this particular time, he grabbed me by the ear (oh yes i remember the ear yank), and marched me back to the house... about 100 metres away. my ear was numb by the time we arrived there.
i wished my bottom and legs had been, it took a while after the strap (his leather belt that held his trousers up) hit a few times before the numbness started. oddly enough, he seemed to know and stopped then.
oh yeah, the wooden spoon. i know it well. and the rubber spatula. my mother (when dad was at his 11 hour a day job) used to resort to wooden spoons. at least she did until she realised how much it was costing her to replace them after wacking my brothers and breaking them constantly. then she moved up a notch, to the rubber spatula. i'm squirming on my seat right now in vivid memory.
i hit my own kids once with a wooden spoon each, and once with the rubber spatula... they were very young, and the pain i felt at doing it was way more than the pain from the light tap i gave them. so i grew up and taught myself that it was easier to take away some cherished toy for a time. i'm lucky, i could so easily have continued punishing my kids in the harsh manner i was. the conscious choice not to, was one of the best choices i've ever made.
my nana would visit us every weekend. each time she came she brought with her little white paper bags with lollies. i guess she would have spent something like 20c to fill each bag. on top of that, she would give us 50c pocket money.
wow the memories are rushing in.
thank you
wildsweetone
i am what i am
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okay one more before i go type up the weird stuff i wrote last night.
our family home from when i was 2 to 16 was close to my father's parent's home.
in fact it was a simple matter of a 200 metre sprint to get from our house to theirs. with the legs of a 10 year old, this took very little time, even if the paddock between was full of cows. a simple trick of aiming for the power pole in the centre of the field and then a second sprint to the wooden gate was all that was needed.
one day, i stood inside our house looking out through our french doors (two doors side by side with three panes of glass in each that opened out onto a nice outdoor deck). i watched my grandmother for what seemed like an hour as she stomped her way across the paddock towards our house. there was no diversion at the power pole for her.
i watched as she climbed the wire and post fence that protected our property from the cows who munched everything. and i watched in surprise as she picked up a handful of newly hoed earth from our garden and flung it straight at me and the freshly painted white french doors.
i recall being told that she'd either forgotten to take her pills or she'd gone and mixed them up again. it happened now and again, and the results were always spectacular.
but it never ceases to amuse me as i recall the flabbergasted look on my mother's face when she realised grandma had put dirt all over her wet paintwork.
*giggling*
our family home from when i was 2 to 16 was close to my father's parent's home.
in fact it was a simple matter of a 200 metre sprint to get from our house to theirs. with the legs of a 10 year old, this took very little time, even if the paddock between was full of cows. a simple trick of aiming for the power pole in the centre of the field and then a second sprint to the wooden gate was all that was needed.
one day, i stood inside our house looking out through our french doors (two doors side by side with three panes of glass in each that opened out onto a nice outdoor deck). i watched my grandmother for what seemed like an hour as she stomped her way across the paddock towards our house. there was no diversion at the power pole for her.
i watched as she climbed the wire and post fence that protected our property from the cows who munched everything. and i watched in surprise as she picked up a handful of newly hoed earth from our garden and flung it straight at me and the freshly painted white french doors.
i recall being told that she'd either forgotten to take her pills or she'd gone and mixed them up again. it happened now and again, and the results were always spectacular.
but it never ceases to amuse me as i recall the flabbergasted look on my mother's face when she realised grandma had put dirt all over her wet paintwork.
*giggling*
jon.hayworth
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I am sitting on the side on this one -
I was adopted and my adoptive parents were all dead or missing by the time I was 3 so no grandparent horror stories. I was in my mid 30s when I met my real Granma.
Tugging ears was what happened in the second rate private school I was sent to. The Headmaster would tug your aer until your head touched the desk then tap his pipe out on your head - a sadist. Another teacher would hit me with the edge of the ruler across my knuckles for writing left-handed followed by a second whack for the blot my dip pen had made on my exercise book.
See you can have no grand-parents, parents who rarely use corporal punishment and they get it done by proxie.
No I am shutting up this is getting to heavy I am not sure I want to say any more it is starting to hurt.
jon
I was adopted and my adoptive parents were all dead or missing by the time I was 3 so no grandparent horror stories. I was in my mid 30s when I met my real Granma.
Tugging ears was what happened in the second rate private school I was sent to. The Headmaster would tug your aer until your head touched the desk then tap his pipe out on your head - a sadist. Another teacher would hit me with the edge of the ruler across my knuckles for writing left-handed followed by a second whack for the blot my dip pen had made on my exercise book.
See you can have no grand-parents, parents who rarely use corporal punishment and they get it done by proxie.
No I am shutting up this is getting to heavy I am not sure I want to say any more it is starting to hurt.
jon
wildsweetone
i am what i am
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proxie punishment in schools....
gee i so didn't want to go here today...
as a kid i expected my parents to punish me.
what i didn't cope too well with was my teacher's punishment. one year i got 'six-of-the-best' on my bare legs for not getting my homework finished. i didn't get it finished because i was too busy outside helping my parents plant cabbages until dark. can't win them all eh. lol
mind you, i think that was the same year that our class had thirteen teachers. not one teacher was employed for the entire year, they kept giving us relieving teachers. and it sure is odd how all relieving teachers have different expectations from the kids in class.
that was the only time i got the strap... but i do recall pages of
I MUST NOT TALK IN CLASS
where i wrote all the 'I's in one long line down the margin, then went back and put all the cross strokes in.
like they never knew what i did...
gee i so didn't want to go here today...
as a kid i expected my parents to punish me.
what i didn't cope too well with was my teacher's punishment. one year i got 'six-of-the-best' on my bare legs for not getting my homework finished. i didn't get it finished because i was too busy outside helping my parents plant cabbages until dark. can't win them all eh. lol
mind you, i think that was the same year that our class had thirteen teachers. not one teacher was employed for the entire year, they kept giving us relieving teachers. and it sure is odd how all relieving teachers have different expectations from the kids in class.
that was the only time i got the strap... but i do recall pages of
I MUST NOT TALK IN CLASS
where i wrote all the 'I's in one long line down the margin, then went back and put all the cross strokes in.
like they never knew what i did...
jon.hayworth
Literotica Guru
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I must not flick ink pellets in the classroom. I must not flick ink pellets in the classroom. I must not flick ... x5000 times
Wouldn't a pc have been great for writing lines?
Well dip pens, inkwells and blotting paper had to have something going for them.
To be honest I was a little shit at school until I went to a school where the headmaster "Barney" did not believe in the cane. It sounded great when I went there the ultimate sanction was being sent to see Barney when I had accumulated too many lines - trouble was the guy had a way of making me really believe that I had let everyone down - including myself and that hurt.
jon
Wouldn't a pc have been great for writing lines?
Well dip pens, inkwells and blotting paper had to have something going for them.
To be honest I was a little shit at school until I went to a school where the headmaster "Barney" did not believe in the cane. It sounded great when I went there the ultimate sanction was being sent to see Barney when I had accumulated too many lines - trouble was the guy had a way of making me really believe that I had let everyone down - including myself and that hurt.
jon
Quasimodem
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I hope I didn't give anyone the false impression that my Granny was mean.
Like I said before, as long as I held still and stood on my toes, it didn't hurt more than a little pinch. I just couldn't fight it!
While I was in that position, I was open to suggestions about improving my conduct. God knows that it needed improvement!
School horror stories, are horses of a different collar.
For the entire length of the time that I lived on that chicken farm, I had two good friends who lived nearby. Ray was my own age, the elder of two brothers, who seemed to act as a magnet for trouble. He couldn't seem to keep out of the stuff. Wherever Ray led, I followed.
The other neighbourhood kid, Frankie, was two grades older. He spent most of his time saving both of us boneheads from various species of catastrophe.
When the family moved from the chicken farm, into the city, most of my grades rose from a C. While my parents expected me to TRY to behave myself, and do my best, nobody - not even my parents - ever suspected that I could become an A student.
It lasted for about three years. Then, I discovered girls, and my school grades plummeted.
Like I said before, as long as I held still and stood on my toes, it didn't hurt more than a little pinch. I just couldn't fight it!
While I was in that position, I was open to suggestions about improving my conduct. God knows that it needed improvement!
School horror stories, are horses of a different collar.
For the entire length of the time that I lived on that chicken farm, I had two good friends who lived nearby. Ray was my own age, the elder of two brothers, who seemed to act as a magnet for trouble. He couldn't seem to keep out of the stuff. Wherever Ray led, I followed.
The other neighbourhood kid, Frankie, was two grades older. He spent most of his time saving both of us boneheads from various species of catastrophe.
When the family moved from the chicken farm, into the city, most of my grades rose from a C. While my parents expected me to TRY to behave myself, and do my best, nobody - not even my parents - ever suspected that I could become an A student.
It lasted for about three years. Then, I discovered girls, and my school grades plummeted.
wildsweetone
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growing up was fun, i wonder what the hell happened?
rofl
Quasi, are you like half country kid and half city kid... about half your younger years spent in each place? out of pure curiosity, which did you prefer back then? and would your choice be different now?
i'm really enjoying these little stories... i'm giggling and memories are flowing all over the show. it's great the visual of your ear being tugged until you're on your tippytoes... man i know exactly what it's like lol. such a neat memory
personally, i find built up areas and the city, great places for visiting but very claustraphobic for living. i guess i was spoiled in my younger days.
SlickTony, thanks for the memory jog, it's time i had a read of another of your stories either later this week or early next week i'll take a peek at Carnival.
rofl
Quasi, are you like half country kid and half city kid... about half your younger years spent in each place? out of pure curiosity, which did you prefer back then? and would your choice be different now?
i'm really enjoying these little stories... i'm giggling and memories are flowing all over the show. it's great
the visual of your ear being tugged until you're on your tippytoes... man i know exactly what it's like lol. such a neat memory personally, i find built up areas and the city, great places for visiting but very claustraphobic for living. i guess i was spoiled in my younger days.
SlickTony, thanks for the memory jog, it's time i had a read of another of your stories
either later this week or early next week i'll take a peek at Carnival.
jon.hayworth
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WSO,
Just read "Carnival" and it is great 5 +.
Have a nice read.
Congratulations Tony on a cracking story now I have got to read more of your work.
Shit this is not meant to be a fan thread so back on the farm. Well it was all farmland over the back from me till the farmer sold up last year and now they have begun to build hundreds of houses.
Still it's still not far to the open countryside. And yes they grow on heaped earth rows using black poly sheets. They also use Poly tunnels here to get early crops.
But I do not know too much about farming as I was raised in a fishing port and know more about the boats. - Potting and Longlining.
jon
Read my latest story ABDUCTED
Just read "Carnival" and it is great 5 +.
Have a nice read.
Congratulations Tony on a cracking story now I have got to read more of your work.
Shit this is not meant to be a fan thread so back on the farm. Well it was all farmland over the back from me till the farmer sold up last year and now they have begun to build hundreds of houses.
Still it's still not far to the open countryside. And yes they grow on heaped earth rows using black poly sheets. They also use Poly tunnels here to get early crops.
But I do not know too much about farming as I was raised in a fishing port and know more about the boats. - Potting and Longlining.
jon
Read my latest story ABDUCTED
wildsweetone
i am what i am
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- Feb 1, 2002
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potting? now i swear i thought potting was to do with plants?
i thoughts boats was tacking and trawling and stuff....?
can't you just tell i'm in the home of The America's Cup?
i am beginning to feel a little disheartened at the long wait for submissions to be accepted. Jon I have submitted 'Lifeless' last weekend, but it's still stuck in the pending file.
***
does anybody have a good explanation that i can learn the basic differences between using 'which' and 'that'? i have another author i am editing some work for and i can't explain to her the correct usage of both those words. i feel such a dunce, but i need to learn it myself. i've looked in my Fowler's Modern English Usage book, but frankly it's so longwinded that i'm lost.
Please point me in the right direction and assume that english is not my first language. lol
i thoughts boats was tacking and trawling and stuff....?
can't you just tell i'm in the home of The America's Cup?
i am beginning to feel a little disheartened at the long wait for submissions to be accepted. Jon I have submitted 'Lifeless' last weekend, but it's still stuck in the pending file.
***
does anybody have a good explanation that i can learn the basic differences between using 'which' and 'that'? i have another author i am editing some work for and i can't explain to her the correct usage of both those words. i feel such a dunce, but i need to learn it myself. i've looked in my Fowler's Modern English Usage book, but frankly it's so longwinded that i'm lost.
Please point me in the right direction and assume that english is not my first language. lol
DVS
A ghost from your dreams
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God, I must have been the only kid that was actually good. I never got into trouble in school (well until my later years, but that is another story), and never had to write anything in multiple. Never got hit but once, in P.E. and that was because of a coach that wanted to make a point.
He hit everybody! Then, because he didn't get the reaction he wanted from that, he took another swat at every other one, and I was one of those. That wasn't called for, but it also wan't uncommon, back then. Like someone else has said, now days, he would be brought up on charges a plenty.
Now, I do remember times when I must have pissed my mother off, because to this day I have differences in the cartilage of my left ear. She nearly pulled it off one time.
It is funny I don't remember any of the offenses? Is that just a selective memory, or do I really believe I didn't do anything wrong? That is a rhytorical question, so don't answer it.
But, back to the school situation...I was not popular in grade school or the early years of high school. Plain and timid and a skinny 98 pound 5 foot 2 inch weakling.
But, I grew very quickly, and my mother couldn't keep me in jeans or shoes, because I grew so fast. By my sophomore year, I was nearly 6 foot tall, but still skinny. I stopped at 6 foot, and stayed skinny all through my life, until about 5 years ago. Then, 'it' happened. We won't go into that it.
I know you may be thinking along the lines of former president Clinton in one of his rememberance lines....."it depends on what the meaning of the word 'it' is" but I will just leave 'it' at that.
Anyway, because I was small and plain, I blended into the crowd, and my shyness didn't help. I was picked on a lot, by the older kids, too. So, when I got to be one of those older kids I didn't pick on the younger ones. I knew how it felt, and it didn't feel good.
It is amazing to see how we change from childhood to adulthood. I am nothing like I was as a child, but I am somewhat like I was later, in high school.
I had the same sexual urges I do now, and got more chances to put them into action, as I got older. Oh, there was one cute neighborhood girl who liked the same things I did, but other than her, my childhood sexual fun was limited to my mind.
I sure wish I knew where she was, because I would like to thank her. She helped me to understand some things very early in life. That is a gift most people don't get so soon.
And, one last thing. I was one of those who were quiet and a seemingly shy guy all through my early years. But, I turned into a confident person, with defined likes and dislikes when it comes to sex. I knew of them very early in life and I guess I had time to refine my urges during that time.
It brings to mind the words some mothers told their daughters about quiet boys.
He hit everybody! Then, because he didn't get the reaction he wanted from that, he took another swat at every other one, and I was one of those. That wasn't called for, but it also wan't uncommon, back then. Like someone else has said, now days, he would be brought up on charges a plenty.
Now, I do remember times when I must have pissed my mother off, because to this day I have differences in the cartilage of my left ear. She nearly pulled it off one time.
It is funny I don't remember any of the offenses? Is that just a selective memory, or do I really believe I didn't do anything wrong? That is a rhytorical question, so don't answer it.
But, back to the school situation...I was not popular in grade school or the early years of high school. Plain and timid and a skinny 98 pound 5 foot 2 inch weakling.
But, I grew very quickly, and my mother couldn't keep me in jeans or shoes, because I grew so fast. By my sophomore year, I was nearly 6 foot tall, but still skinny. I stopped at 6 foot, and stayed skinny all through my life, until about 5 years ago. Then, 'it' happened. We won't go into that it.
I know you may be thinking along the lines of former president Clinton in one of his rememberance lines....."it depends on what the meaning of the word 'it' is" but I will just leave 'it' at that.
Anyway, because I was small and plain, I blended into the crowd, and my shyness didn't help. I was picked on a lot, by the older kids, too. So, when I got to be one of those older kids I didn't pick on the younger ones. I knew how it felt, and it didn't feel good.
It is amazing to see how we change from childhood to adulthood. I am nothing like I was as a child, but I am somewhat like I was later, in high school.
I had the same sexual urges I do now, and got more chances to put them into action, as I got older. Oh, there was one cute neighborhood girl who liked the same things I did, but other than her, my childhood sexual fun was limited to my mind.
I sure wish I knew where she was, because I would like to thank her. She helped me to understand some things very early in life. That is a gift most people don't get so soon.
And, one last thing. I was one of those who were quiet and a seemingly shy guy all through my early years. But, I turned into a confident person, with defined likes and dislikes when it comes to sex. I knew of them very early in life and I guess I had time to refine my urges during that time.
It brings to mind the words some mothers told their daughters about quiet boys.
Quasimodem
Literotica Guru
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- Jun 30, 2001
- Posts
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‘That' and ‘Which' from "How to Say It"
‘That' and ‘Which' from "How to Say It"
If a one writes:
"The cat, which you despise so much, is a very useful animal."
The writer or speaker means to convey the meaning that all cats are useful animals.
But if he says:
"The cat that you despise so much is a very useful animal."
The idea conveyed is that one individual cat, which is despised, is a very useful animal.
Clear enough
wildsweetone said:
‘That' and ‘Which' from "How to Say It"
If a one writes:
"The cat, which you despise so much, is a very useful animal."
The writer or speaker means to convey the meaning that all cats are useful animals.
But if he says:
"The cat that you despise so much is a very useful animal."
The idea conveyed is that one individual cat, which is despised, is a very useful animal.
Clear enough
DVS
A ghost from your dreams
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- 11,416
Give me a break!
I just saw a lady author, on the Today show. She was explaining her book to Katie Couric. But, she made a flub! She called the auto thieves in the story auto thiefs.
She is an author being interviewed on American national TV and she can't even speak correctly? Give me a break!
I just saw a lady author, on the Today show. She was explaining her book to Katie Couric. But, she made a flub! She called the auto thieves in the story auto thiefs.
She is an author being interviewed on American national TV and she can't even speak correctly? Give me a break!
Quasimodem
Literotica Guru
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Give her Speach Therapy!
Give her a break, DVS.
Maybe she has a lithp, like Bawbraw Wahwars!
DVS said:
Give her a break, DVS.
Maybe she has a lithp, like Bawbraw Wahwars!
DVS
A ghost from your dreams
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2002
- Posts
- 11,416
Re: Give her Speach Therapy!
Well, Bawbraw saths every word thith way. This lady had no lithp, or unusual speech pattern. I still think it was just your basic early morning mistake. Maybe it was first time on national American TV jitters? I will give her that much of a break.Quasimodem said:Give her a break, DVS.
Maybe she has a lithp, like Bawbraw Wahwars!
wildsweetone
i am what i am
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Re: ‘That' and ‘Which' from "How to Say It"
He held her hand which was resting on her belly and moved it above her head.
in this instance 'which' should be 'that' because it is referring to one single hand. correct?
All these irritants which were clamouring for her attention were enveloping her senses.
in this instance 'which' is correct because there is more than one irritant. right?
if the sentence refers to one single object, it is 'that'. if referring to more than one object, it should be 'which'.
Quasi, please forgive me if i am repeating the same thing.
DVS i'm beginning to think you watch too much tv
Quasimodem said:‘That' and ‘Which' from "How to Say It"
If a one writes:
"The cat, which you despise so much, is a very useful animal."
The writer or speaker means to convey the meaning that all cats are useful animals.
But if he says:
"The cat that you despise so much is a very useful animal."
The idea conveyed is that one individual cat, which is despised, is a very useful animal.
He held her hand which was resting on her belly and moved it above her head.
in this instance 'which' should be 'that' because it is referring to one single hand. correct?
All these irritants which were clamouring for her attention were enveloping her senses.
in this instance 'which' is correct because there is more than one irritant. right?
if the sentence refers to one single object, it is 'that'. if referring to more than one object, it should be 'which'.
Quasi, please forgive me if i am repeating the same thing.
DVS i'm beginning to think you watch too much tv
Quasimodem
Literotica Guru
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Re: ‘That' and ‘Which' from "How to Say It"
Right! But don't forget, 'which' is usually used in apposition. So don't forget punctuation. (Whereas 'that' seldom follows a comma.)
Only sort of.
As I read it, 'which' refers to things generally, or collectively. (So, usually a plural.)
'That' refers to a specific individual out of a group.
It might be clearer to think of 'that' to be specific and 'which' when speaking of an item in general.
Remember that 'cat' is the subject in both sentences.
Using (cat 'that' you despise) indicates the cat was a specific out of the general.
Using (cat, 'which' you despise, ) you refer to the general species of cat(s).
This concludes [Lesson One] of: "English, As She Am Spoke."
Of course, you can always cheat. Recast, to:
"He held the hand resting on her belly, and moved it above her head."
Now, someone is going to say, "Do you mean that he was holding his own hand, resting on her belly, and moved it above her head?"
I wouldn't answer them. Leave them to wallow in their own imbecility.
wildsweetone said:
Right! But don't forget, 'which' is usually used in apposition. So don't forget punctuation. (Whereas 'that' seldom follows a comma.)
Only sort of.
As I read it, 'which' refers to things generally, or collectively. (So, usually a plural.)
'That' refers to a specific individual out of a group.
It might be clearer to think of 'that' to be specific and 'which' when speaking of an item in general.
Remember that 'cat' is the subject in both sentences.
Using (cat 'that' you despise) indicates the cat was a specific out of the general.
Using (cat, 'which' you despise, ) you refer to the general species of cat(s).
This concludes [Lesson One] of: "English, As She Am Spoke."
Of course, you can always cheat. Recast, to:
"He held the hand resting on her belly, and moved it above her head."
Now, someone is going to say, "Do you mean that he was holding his own hand, resting on her belly, and moved it above her head?"
I wouldn't answer them. Leave them to wallow in their own imbecility.
wildsweetone
i am what i am
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- Feb 1, 2002
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thank you Quasi dear. i knew the correct choice in each instance, but only because i've an 'ear' for it... i'll direct the author here and let her see your words of wisdom.
