It's a MAD dad world

I am guest blogging today over at Fertile Feminism.

When she addressed the English troops at Tilbury, Queen Elizabeth I inspired them with a speech that began:

"I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too".

I'd like to say something similar. I know I have the body of a trailing spouse and a stay at home mum; but I have the heart and stomach of a feminist... I suppose I could add ...and a feminist of England too, which would sound very splendid, but I'm not quite sure what it would mean.

Feminism has a bad press, but honestly, how can a woman NOT be a feminist. All it means, when it boils down to it, is that you are someone who believes that women are equal to men, and should have the same rights and opportunities as men to make of themselves what they want. I flinch a little, if I see a reference in the mummy blogging world to mums who have jobs as being 'good role models' for their children. Yes, I suppose I'm a little defensive. We stay at home mums can't help it, from time to time. But I feel I might just be a 'good role model' for my children, because I chose not to work when they were little, and because I'm grappling now with the consequences of that (which I foresaw, incidentally).

I sense this is turning into a blog post in its own right, when all I wanted to do was to send you over to Fertile Feminism. It's a website that was set up by Noble Savage (she who has been blogging since 2005), and you can read about its aims here. For me, reading this blog is the way I keep a small toe dipped in feminist water. So I'll stop now, and if you want to see me sporting my feminist garb, head on over.

It's a post about why there are so many Daddy blogs in the finalists of the MADs awards.

In need of an identity

I am a member of a very select group within British Mummy Bloggers. I'm one of a small number who don't have a profile picture. But times are a-changing, and I thought it was a good moment to show my face.

Not literally. Oh no no no. I like hiding away behind words. And that is why I have chosen the following as my profile picture.

I played with various type faces. This one is called Britannic Bold, which I thought might be apt, but it's too brash, don't you think?

Then there was this. I can't remember what it's called, but 12-yo said it was cool.



But I decided to stick with the first, because it was the closest I could find to American cursive, which is so iconic. It just says "America" to me. Personally, I can't see the point of teaching generations of school kids two entirely different styles of writing. They learn printing for three laborious years, and then just as they've mastered that, they have to knuckle under (almost literally) and learn a completely different style. You go from what one teacher described to me as "sticks and balls" to this curly and ornate script that isn't far from copperplate. In Britain, it seems to me that you learn one set of letters, and then you simply learn how to join them up. For those of you who understand these things (and I don't include myself among you), I think I'm a fan of D'Nealian writing.

Enough of all that. In sum, I thought Iota in American cursive script would be a suitable visual cue for this blog. I used a lower case i because the upper case I in American cursive is pretty much unrecognisable (several of the upper case cursive letters are, actually, which is another of my beefs with it). A capital I looks like a T or a P, and I didn't want to become Tota or Pota.

You probably want to know why it's nailed to a tree in my back yard. Well, that's just what I did. I expect there's something sub-conscious going on. Perhaps it's religious imagery. Perhaps it's meant to be like a 'Wanted' poster. Maybe I just wanted to hang it on the tree that I look at out of the window when I sit at the computer. Who knows? I certainly don't.

So what do you think?

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Identity revealed

Here's a final conundrum.

Why did I pick Iota Manhattan as my blog-writing name?

Aha! I can help you with that one. It's an anagram of my maiden name. When I was about 14 or 15, one wet lunch break, stuck in the classroom, I and a friend or two or three occupied ourselves by making up anagrams of the names of people in our class. (I know, I know, most teenage girls talk about boys and make-up. I and my friends made up anagrams. What can I say?) I thought Iota Manhattan was so fabulous, I said "if I ever write something, I'll use it as my pen-name", and so I have.

Apart from my own, my favourite anagram name was Helga R. Cespit. Honestly. I can't give you the original name, in case she googles herself and lands here. I'm not sure we ever told her...

Iota is the Greek letter 'I', of course, so it's very apt for a writing persona. Manhattan gives an American flavour, appropriate now in a way that I could never have foreseen as my teenage self. I do also enjoy a secret ironic chuckle because, as you probably have realised, my location, though American for sure, is a pretty long way, geographically and culturally, from Sarah Jessica Parker territory.

I'm not going to respond to any guesses in the comments section, by the way. I'm not revealing my real name, maiden or married, on the blog. If you're a puzzle-fiend, and you want to have a guess, you can email me and I'll tell you if you've got it right.

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Conundrums: part 3

I think Husband might need some help with this one.

I have just finished a telephone conversation with him, and when I put the phone down, I remembered that at one point I had said:

"You're just listening to what I'm saying, and you're not listening at all to what I want to say. And it's not the same thing. And I don't even know what I want to say."

Sometimes I'm so glad I'm not married to me.

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Conundrums: part 2

Short of things to ponder? Here are a couple more.

1) If you add white to blue, you get light blue.

If you add white to green, you get light green.

That works for most colours, but...

If you add white to red, you get pink.

Why isn't pink called light red? Why don't the other light colours have their own names?

2) Once the human race had discovered toast and jam, why did we bother looking for any other foodstuffs? The only way was down.

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Conundrums: part 1

Here are a couple of things to ponder in an idle moment.

1) Is there a waist fairy? I used to have a waist, and now I don't so much, so who took it? And if there's a waist fairy, why didn't I get a silver sixpence in an egg cup by the side of my bed?

2) Is the plural of conundrum, conundra, or is that just pretentious?

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Ode to Josephine

Not so much an ode, as an oh dear...

My friend from way back, Josephine

Is someone who sure knows a theeng (or two).

The trouble with you, Josephine,

Is your difficult rhyme, as yo’s a-seein’.

So I’m going to start calling you Josie.

If I lived nearby, then I would mosey

Over quick to your place, for a nosey

Around to make sure all is rosy.

May your birthday be terribly cosy,

And maybe perhaps a bit bo(o)zy.

Hope Husband bought you a nice posy.

And I’m sorry I’m really so dozy

That I totally forgot to send you a card or a present.

Hope you had a good day. Thanks for being such a fabulous follower and commenter - I'm sure all my other readers feel they know you. Looking forward to seeing you in the summer (and sorry for being a rubbish birthday-rememberer).

Mwa mwa.

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