That tag, this day!

In this blog-eat-blog world, a novice like me needs to watch it. I seek to insulate myself through my extremely limited readership and the fact that I choose to stay within the confines of my own comfort zone. I do not form any significant part of the blogger eco-system out there - not even an 'insignificant microbe'. No links to the blog gods or their pundits, no blog lines or rolls - this blog is just a LOT of myself on display for any or every one who may wish to read it. Detailing about the boring inanities of my grey existence, suddenly, from out of the blue, someone springs up to a-tag.

First, it was Africableu and Artsymama, who pegged me on the tag-line. Then I breathed easier- thought I acquired immunity from the tag-rag-tag like childhood measles.

No such luck, alas. It was Lak who started round two of the game as early as in March this year, demanding to know all manner of things about the me and books I own read and all! Then more recently it was Chitra who demanded to know five secrets in my freezer, car, closet, purse. And now Priya has tagged me demanding that I reveal all manner of details of who and what I am! Wish I knew the answers to all these tags!


Embarking on the various tags, I would still prefer to beg off the books one, Lak. That is something which I really don't feel upto now- so maybe another day, that tag?

Chitra, the things in my freezer, car, purse, closet would be mere manifestations of my usual cornucopia- my 'Bhanumati ka pitara' as it were! So I head first to the last, Priya's tag.

I'm thinking about:

Too many things to be recorded - work, home, the children, my parents, my family, my friends, the spare tyres around my middle, other friends, others, more friends, people around me, the people not around me...

I said:

Ever and never too often to be saying them again (hmm, does that say what I wish it to?)

I want to:

Take a break

I wish:

To write like this and this and whatever Scott writes; I wish to scrap like this; I wish to making a smocking frock (white/ blue/ pink?), even if I couldn't make it for my daughter, I hope to for hers, I wish to wish a LOT less :)

I hear:
A lot of birdsong, the wind in the trees, the sounds around me and most of all- the noises in my head!

I wonder:
How simple things get complicated and at times how the complicated sort themselves out simply.

I regret:
little.

I am:
rather confused

I love:
All that I don't violently hate

I dance:
as if I had two (4?) left feet!

I sing:
off-key

I cry:
often and for all and any one. But most of all, I cry for my self.

I'm not always:
consistent.

I make with my hands:
all manner of odds and ends which keeps me busy in the making but holds little permanent value.

I write:
with little care, intensely, as rough and ready as I am.

I confuse:
and mix metaphors

I need:
at times, a lot to keep me afloat, and at others, keel over nothing at all.

And finally:.
I fear this isn't what I was meant to write at all :p