Life of Lu

Have you ever heard of a mondegreen? It is the name given to a misheard lyric. The phrase was coined by Sylvia Wright who, as a child, misheard the line 'I laid him on the green' as 'Lady Mondegreen'. Cute isn't it! We have all had a mondegreen or two in our time. That is a definite. This morning I read someones status update on Facebook and they had written the lyrics to "Forever in Blue Jeans". It is a great song.  However, for years I misheard the lyrics. When Neil Diamond sang Forever in Blue Jeans,  I heard him sing Reverend Eugene. What tips this little anecdote to the pathetic side of the spectrum is that I knew the song title and wondered what that had to do with the song.  However, I still maintain that it was a plausible error. Listen... My other beauty was with Lionel Ritchie's "Hello". You know that adorable love song, where he sings 'I want to tell you so much I love you' Yes

Today is one of those days where I want to write but I don't know what words to use.  I feel as though I have a lot to say, or that there is a lot that I should say but every time I get close to revealing these words and emotions they get stuck in my throat and don't quite make it to my brain. Therefore my fingers can't relay them on paper/on word. My sister's anniversary is an oxymoron. I shall tell you why. Every year, the rawness reopens but every year the wound heals faster and faster.  It makes it easier. However, every year I realise that there is something I have forgotten. A little quirk or joke or something that once was hilarious is now a forgotten punchline and that prolongs the sadness.  I think it is the forgetfulness that upsets me most of all. But you know what, the stuff that I remember, well that just cracks me up. Marguerite's impressions of everyone were superb.  Truly superb. Especially her impressions of her teachers. I have

My name is Louise O'Dwyer at school I was called Labhaoise Ní Dhuibhir What if I wasn't Irish? What would I be called? Well,  if I was French I would be Louise Haudoire, In Chinese I would be    路易丝    pronounced  Lù yì sī  if I were Elven I would be Nienna Tárlóm, if I were a Hobbit I would be Dimple Gamwich of the Bree Gamwiches. Fun isn't it! Would you like a Elven name? Click here Would you like a Hobbit name? Click here

I know most people hate Mondays. Well, people who have weekends off hate Mondays. My weeks generally don't have a weekend so Monday and Friday are all the same to me. But there is one Monday of the year that I hate. I mean hate with a passion. It is this one. It doesn't have a date, it is the Monday that corresponds with the Monday night my little sister died. This one is it. I wasn't going to mention it. I don't see the point generally. I actually tend to do stuff on the Monday night to distract myself (tonight I am embarking on an overnight deep-clean of my store) but this one is different. Why? Because I have a cold, and have therefore been feeling sorry for myself all day. Feeling sorry for myself has thus led to me thinking back 8 years ago and tutting at myself for feeling sorry for myself about a runny nose and a chesty cough. Not many people can say, without shadow of a doubt, a date that changed their life forever. I can. I wish I couldn't, but I

I am a believer that Christmas should not be mentioned until December. Let me rephrase, mentioned yes, but constantly discussed no. About two nights ago, James commented on how there were only four weeks to Christmas. I won't lie to you, I had thought there were six. Oops. A mild panic set in. It only sets in because of postal dates but boy does it set in. So today I got organised. I went to the charity shop beside where I work and I bought some lovely Christmas cards. Normally I go for cheap, cheap Primark cards but this year I went with the fancy ones with Edinburgh Castle and glitter (oh how I love glitter). I rationalised my splurges with the mantra 'It is for charity and Christmas is a time of charity'.  So with my cards bought, I did probably the most organized thing I've ever done. I bought the stamps to accompany them! Wait until I show you the Christmas stamps. They are quite possibly the cutest stamps I have ever come across.  Are they not

Last night, as I got the bus home from work, I got really choked up as the clock turned midnight. Perhaps because I'd been checking product dates all day, I was painfully aware of what date I was stepping into, or perhaps because I had just returned from a trip to Ireland I was painfully aware of it all. I don't know. It's not important. When I went to bed last night, I started to think about my sister a little more. A lot more. I remember the day she was born. Isn't that weird? I was only 3 years old but I remember. Mam was on the phone from the hospital to Da, and he asked my brother and I if we wanted to speak to our mammy. Naturally we both jumped at the chance to say hi. Our telephone at the time was in the hallway and was a few feet from the ground, so my brother and I had to stand on a chair to speak into it. As the eldest I went first and gushed and oohed as I thought was appropriate. I hopped off my chair and gave the floor to my brother. I was unpre