... I started a blog. I had great hopes for my blog... an outlet for my creativity, a chance to connect with my own writing voice, and maybe, just maybe, reignite my passion for the written word.
And then I got busy. So busy that writing for The Daily Boop kept slipping further and further down the list of things I had to write.
Then I forgot I had a blog.
And then I remembered again.
The end.
Or is it a new beginning.
x
Showing posts with label Daily Boop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daily Boop. Show all posts
07 February 2010
25 April 2009
For you and my dad... and everything after
It's been such an interesting start to 2009 and while I began with the best intentions of making The Daily Boop a 'daily' thing, I think you and I both know by now that that just ain't gonna happen.
So I thought I'd post a little catch-up on the year so far, as seen from the desk at The Daily Boop's head office (read: my lounge room).
It began in Tasmania with a long-planned holiday to catch up with my sister Sasha and my best friend Mrs Bearly. We took at least one photo for every kilometre travelled and had quite a good trip. Then we spent a few days hanging out at home before heading back to the nine-to-five and I'm ever so glad we did: this global economic crisis thing had everyone on their toes with last-minute plans to shore up the business and the businesses of those who depend on us. Being the girl with the words meant the following months became one very long and hastily-written sentence.
In between times, my father-in-law (Gra-Gra) gave us all the fright of our lives when he was diagnosed with the big C. For a while, he was the thing behind every thought we had; and while I'm not one for prayers, I think ours were answered as he seems to be making a full recovery. My Mum and I also reestablished contact and with everything going on with Gra-Gra, I was reminded again of how life is just too bloody short.
Coming up to Easter, the George and I were stuffed. Writing anything felt like giving birth to a block of flats and I was finding myself getting really cross with everything which is most unlike me. So we took the week after Easter off just to hang out. He spent most of it in his studio and I spent it cross stitching. We went to the gorgeous Blue Mountain to see the autumn leaves before they dropped and took some beautiful photos (I'll post some shortly). That was the day we actually started to wind down, and when I landed back at the nine to five this week I found the words were flowing freely once again.
So now back to The Daily Boop. I love his little blog of mine... it's never become the thing I planned it to be and that's the way most things go with me: I start with an idea and as life is breathed into it, it kind of takes over and leads me where it wants to go.
Tomorrow is the seventh anniversary of my dad's passing. A year or two before he died he rang me at work (which he rarely ever did) to tell me that he'd just seen an old friend of mine from school and he had told her about my plans to write a book. He finished off by saying, "I really hope you do, kiddo".
Well Dad, just so you know, the book still bubbles away in the back of my mind and when it's ready to be written, I promise you I'll write it.
In loving memory of my Dad, Ian Linnell. 27 June 1950 - 26 April 2002
So I thought I'd post a little catch-up on the year so far, as seen from the desk at The Daily Boop's head office (read: my lounge room).
It began in Tasmania with a long-planned holiday to catch up with my sister Sasha and my best friend Mrs Bearly. We took at least one photo for every kilometre travelled and had quite a good trip. Then we spent a few days hanging out at home before heading back to the nine-to-five and I'm ever so glad we did: this global economic crisis thing had everyone on their toes with last-minute plans to shore up the business and the businesses of those who depend on us. Being the girl with the words meant the following months became one very long and hastily-written sentence.
In between times, my father-in-law (Gra-Gra) gave us all the fright of our lives when he was diagnosed with the big C. For a while, he was the thing behind every thought we had; and while I'm not one for prayers, I think ours were answered as he seems to be making a full recovery. My Mum and I also reestablished contact and with everything going on with Gra-Gra, I was reminded again of how life is just too bloody short.
Coming up to Easter, the George and I were stuffed. Writing anything felt like giving birth to a block of flats and I was finding myself getting really cross with everything which is most unlike me. So we took the week after Easter off just to hang out. He spent most of it in his studio and I spent it cross stitching. We went to the gorgeous Blue Mountain to see the autumn leaves before they dropped and took some beautiful photos (I'll post some shortly). That was the day we actually started to wind down, and when I landed back at the nine to five this week I found the words were flowing freely once again.
So now back to The Daily Boop. I love his little blog of mine... it's never become the thing I planned it to be and that's the way most things go with me: I start with an idea and as life is breathed into it, it kind of takes over and leads me where it wants to go.
Tomorrow is the seventh anniversary of my dad's passing. A year or two before he died he rang me at work (which he rarely ever did) to tell me that he'd just seen an old friend of mine from school and he had told her about my plans to write a book. He finished off by saying, "I really hope you do, kiddo".
Well Dad, just so you know, the book still bubbles away in the back of my mind and when it's ready to be written, I promise you I'll write it.
In loving memory of my Dad, Ian Linnell. 27 June 1950 - 26 April 200207 December 2008
Redottification
When I was just thinking about starting a blog, my friend Miss Marzie - herself a longtime blogger - said that you meet some lovely people in blog world. Now it's not that I disbelieved her, it's just that meeting lovely people was not high on my list of motivations for starting the Daily Boop... and then I met Whimsy Cate.
Y'see the luscious, lolly-like dots you see here before you (as opposed to gloomy green and yucky yellow) are thanks to Cate and her man Tim, who wrote a comprehensive step-by-step guide through image editing and HTML that was so easy to get, I had new dots up by lunchtime.
So when Miss Marzie said I'd meet some lovely people online she was so right! Thank you Cate and Tim... you have made me a very happy Boop!
PS Whimsy Cate writes a lovely blog, as does the gorgeous Miss Marzie. So if you haven't ventured out into blog world yet, I highly recommend doing so. You'll be amazed at what - and who - is out there.
28 October 2008
Saved by St Peter
Just one day into the Daily Boop I can’t help but wonder if I’ve bitten of more than I can chew.
I’d never intended to call it ‘the Daily Boop’ but when I discovered ‘Wordy Girl’ was taken, I went with the first thing that came into my head. A smarter girl would have gone with something like ‘the Weekly Boop’ so as not to set expectations too high; or even ‘Boop, Once in a While’, but not being able to punctuate the URL would have driven me nuts.
So at the risk of becoming nothing more than a misleading headline, the Daily Boop musters everything she has at this ungodly hour and brings you the funniest joke EVER!
The Daily Boop advises that the following joke contains references to nuns and penises.
Four nuns die and go to heaven and as they arrive at the pearly gates, St Peter steps out and summons the first nun. He says, ‘Welcome to Heaven, child… before you pass through the pearly gates, I must ask you a question: have you ever touched a penis?’
The nun blushed and said, ‘Oh St Peter, I cannot tell a lie… I once touched one with the tip of my finger.’
‘Well,’ said St Peter lovingly, ‘just put your finger in the holy water and then you can pass on through the pearly gates.’
Relieved, she dipped her finger in the holy water and scurried through the gates and into Heaven.
Then St Peter summoned the second nun and again he said, ‘Welcome to Heaven, child… before you pass through the pearly gates, I must ask you a question: have you ever touched a penis?’
The nun giggled and said sheepishly, ‘Oh St Peter, I cannot tell a lie… I once held one in the palm of my hand.’ St Peter smiled gently and said, ‘Just put your hand in the holy water and then you can pass on through the pearly gates.’
Then St Peter summoned the third nun and said, ‘Welcome to Heaven, child… before you pass through the pearly gates, I must ask you a question: have you ever touched a penis?’ At which point the fourth nun burst forward and screamed, ‘If you think I’m gonna gargle that after she’s had her butt in it, you can forget it!'
I’d never intended to call it ‘the Daily Boop’ but when I discovered ‘Wordy Girl’ was taken, I went with the first thing that came into my head. A smarter girl would have gone with something like ‘the Weekly Boop’ so as not to set expectations too high; or even ‘Boop, Once in a While’, but not being able to punctuate the URL would have driven me nuts.
So at the risk of becoming nothing more than a misleading headline, the Daily Boop musters everything she has at this ungodly hour and brings you the funniest joke EVER!
The Daily Boop advises that the following joke contains references to nuns and penises.
Four nuns die and go to heaven and as they arrive at the pearly gates, St Peter steps out and summons the first nun. He says, ‘Welcome to Heaven, child… before you pass through the pearly gates, I must ask you a question: have you ever touched a penis?’
The nun blushed and said, ‘Oh St Peter, I cannot tell a lie… I once touched one with the tip of my finger.’
‘Well,’ said St Peter lovingly, ‘just put your finger in the holy water and then you can pass on through the pearly gates.’
Relieved, she dipped her finger in the holy water and scurried through the gates and into Heaven.
Then St Peter summoned the second nun and again he said, ‘Welcome to Heaven, child… before you pass through the pearly gates, I must ask you a question: have you ever touched a penis?’
The nun giggled and said sheepishly, ‘Oh St Peter, I cannot tell a lie… I once held one in the palm of my hand.’ St Peter smiled gently and said, ‘Just put your hand in the holy water and then you can pass on through the pearly gates.’
Then St Peter summoned the third nun and said, ‘Welcome to Heaven, child… before you pass through the pearly gates, I must ask you a question: have you ever touched a penis?’ At which point the fourth nun burst forward and screamed, ‘If you think I’m gonna gargle that after she’s had her butt in it, you can forget it!'
27 October 2008
Blogging not jogging
I should be on my way home now for a brisk walk but I'm having too much fun... sort of. This is my first blog and I can't help but wonder if I have what it takes to be a consistent poster. Only one way to find out...
My name's Tracey but almost everyone who matters calls me Boop. Not boo, not boob, Boop. I write for a living and while I used to regularly write for my own pleasure, I haven't done it for years. And that's what the Daily Boop's about... me getting back into the swing of writing about the things that make me happy. If what I write makes you happy too, then I'll be doubly thrilled I started the Daily Boop.
Yay!
My name's Tracey but almost everyone who matters calls me Boop. Not boo, not boob, Boop. I write for a living and while I used to regularly write for my own pleasure, I haven't done it for years. And that's what the Daily Boop's about... me getting back into the swing of writing about the things that make me happy. If what I write makes you happy too, then I'll be doubly thrilled I started the Daily Boop.
Yay!
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