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	<title>Life - now and then</title>
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	<description>Reminiscences and memories, old and new</description>
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		<title>Life - now and then</title>
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		<title>Coming full circle</title>
		<link>http://kirtle.wordpress.com/2011/05/04/coming-full-circle/</link>
		<comments>http://kirtle.wordpress.com/2011/05/04/coming-full-circle/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 04 May 2011 12:21:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>kirtle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Now]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Then]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://kirtle.wordpress.com/?p=56</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My eldest daughter has brought home a friend from school for the first time today, who of course only speaks Swedish. It reminded me of being in infant school and going round to my friend Samina&#8217;s house. Her lovely mother &#8230; <a href="http://kirtle.wordpress.com/2011/05/04/coming-full-circle/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=kirtle.wordpress.com&amp;blog=6288815&amp;post=56&amp;subd=kirtle&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>My eldest daughter has brought home a friend from school for the first time today, who of course only speaks Swedish. It reminded me of being in infant school and going round to my friend Samina&#8217;s house. Her lovely mother spoke very little English, and struggled to pronounce my name &#8211; finally settling on Custard which delighted my friends no end, me less so.<br />
I don&#8217;t remember much else about her, or where they lived, but I do remember being thrilled at being given chappattis and huge juicy oranges as a snack, a world away from the orange squash and plain biscuit I would probably have had at home.<br />
Fast forward 30 years, and now I&#8217;m the immigrant mother with a shaky grasp of the native language. I doubt pizza, salad and chocolate biscuits will seem quite so exotic or memorable to my visitor though.</p>
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		<title>Who died and made you King of Twitter?</title>
		<link>http://kirtle.wordpress.com/2009/08/16/norules/</link>
		<comments>http://kirtle.wordpress.com/2009/08/16/norules/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 16 Aug 2009 19:02:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>kirtle</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Other]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://kirtle.wordpress.com/?p=22</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[To be accompanied by Transvision Vamp &#8211; Baby I Don&#8217;t Care I never meant for this blog to be about Twitter, and here I am talking about it in my very first post. But then @Glinner sent out a link &#8230; <a href="http://kirtle.wordpress.com/2009/08/16/norules/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=kirtle.wordpress.com&amp;blog=6288815&amp;post=22&amp;subd=kirtle&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>To be accompanied by <a href="http://blip.fm/~bt3xk">Transvision Vamp &#8211; Baby I Don&#8217;t Care</a></em></p>
<p>I never meant for this blog to be about Twitter, and here I am talking about it in my very first post. But then <a href="http://twitter.com/glinner">@Glinner</a> sent out a link to <a href="http://mashable.com/2009/08/16/quality-twitter-tweet/">this article</a>, and made me write. It&#8217;s not the worst article in the world, and this post could have been inspired by any number of things that I&#8217;ve read over the past few months.<br />
I should have known better than to even bother reading this particular one, as it had all the warning signs that it would trigger a minor episode of ranting. For a start, the author of the piece lists &#8216;Mindfulness Teacher&#8217; in his bio. Erm&#8230; right.<br />
Let me put it this way. What you think Twitter should be and what I think Twitter should be are not necessarily the same thing. And they do not have to be the same thing.<br />
I cannot understand why so many people seem to think there should be &#8216;rules&#8217; of Twitter. The number of posts that are titled &#8216;Why I won&#8217;t follow you back on Twitter&#8217; or &#8216;How not to annoy people on Twitter&#8217;. Who cares? Everyone has their own personal preference of what they want to see, and the beauty is being able to pick and choose. So you don&#8217;t want to follow me back? Fine. You have 47 million other people out there to choose from. I&#8217;m annoying you with my meaningless babble? That&#8217;s what the unfollow button is for. (I must confess to being eternally amazed that I have any followers left with some of the drivel that leaves my keyboard at times.)<br />
Of course we all have our own personal preferences as to who we will and won&#8217;t follow. I personally won&#8217;t follow anybody who tweets in textspeak for a start, but I don&#8217;t expect you all to do the same. One man&#8217;s interesting is another man&#8217;s terminally dull.<br />
Twitter is many things to many people. It cannot be defined solely as a marketing/networking/socialising/outreach tool. From my perspective, it&#8217;s like a big room full of people at a party &#8211; some are having serious, sober conversations about things like politics; others are doing lots of talking and not much listening; and some are having drunken, random, silly conversations &#8211; and I&#8217;m wandering round eavesdropping and joining in when I feel like it. We don&#8217;t all see exactly the same people, so you will see things different from where you&#8217;re standing, or maybe you&#8217;re even in a different room altogether. Don&#8217;t try to make it &#8216;one size fits all&#8217;, just enjoy the ride.<br />
So please don&#8217;t tell me how I should be using Twitter, or what my Twitter &#8216;experience&#8217; should be. I follow the people I find interesting whether they&#8217;re being informative, creative, amusing or just plain chatty. I say what I want to say, and whilst it&#8217;s nice to know there are some people out there who are interested, <strong>nobody&#8217;s making you read it</strong>.</p>
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