A Short Stream Of Consciousness.

Linda Hills stream of conciousness prompt please press 🔜 here 🔚  to read and join,  it Is fun #SOCS  No editing just pouring onto the page.

My Dad used to say “Nice things come in small parcels” he said it mostly to cheer me up…  Mum said “so does poison”  If as she often pointed out every family has their cross to bear, then it is possible I was it.

I am one of four girls who were all… a slighter build than me, they had dainty feet and were bor… fortunate with prettier eyes and full lashes and without double chins. All three had wavy or curling hair, they were popular, and taller than me, all three were in the top choice when teams were picked, and all three had tone, rythm and speed.


Where,  I never grew into my large clumsy feet or had the ability to beautifully sing and dance. My bum was always big in this … whatever this happened to be. My singing voice… well least said and all that.  I swear someone put my eyes on upside down and stole my midriff… seriously, how is it that I have a standard leg length, a six foot arm span *holds head* “really” and am four foot eleven and a half. I was the girl that the netball captain dreaded having to take, the sister that the vicar told “god had better things than the choir on his mind when he made me” ! Promptly giving the collection plate over ( my then new job). And just in case you think like a butterfly I morphed into my wonderful self… No!

Singing is my passion and I could still win X factor the voice and be a singing sensation, but no one other than me hears the way my ears do… I still have straight as a poker hair, bigger feet,  shorter body, upside down eyes,  two chins, weigh more than them, I hide from the ball, miss with a bat and in comparison my bum is still big in that.

In case you think I feel sorry for myself NO! You see I am unique, I am an anomaly. I can laugh at myself, make others happy, I am kind and generous.  If I don’t compare myself to my sisters, I am average weight and fitness with a standard sized foot. My siblings are smaller (not shorter) and lighter than the norm. They are…  they, and I am me, a friendly, happy, quirky woman who writes. My husband, who by the way insists my differences drew him to me, loves this bonkers loon and wouldn’t alter a bit of me.. except maybe my  penchant for singing and being bouncy as I wake.


There I kept it short and shared pieces of me.

Do you fit neatly into your family have you grown into your space? I am dying to hear.

38 thoughts on “A Short Stream Of Consciousness.

  1. I am nothing like my sisters. They are all tiny little woman who even now in older age still weigh about the same as one of my legs. I’ve made peace with it. I’m short…curvy (a little more than wanted in the present moment) and nothing like them at all….but that’s ok!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I DID fit until my brother and sister came along. Then dad had a favorite son and mom a favorite daughter. Being 6 years older I was left to do my own thing. Like any other family, growing up leaves some scars here and there. The thing that frustrates me is that I still am very aware of the ones between my sister and me, even while I watch her struggling with a husband who is nearly paralyzed and dying from cancer. That inner voice of mine is forever wanting to know what the heck kind of person I am! o_O

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I wonder sometimes… if the others are the stiffled ones. I never wanted to be the same, if short hair was in I grew mine long. I’m not a black sheep just a bit quirky, with a corner or two stopping me fitting comfortably.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. I remember my eldest sister telling teachers that. *whispers* to get out of assembly… “I am Jewish” she said with her chest puffed out ” Jewish girls don’t go to assembly” she quickly followed her announcement with “because I’m adopted”. The fact that she was the double of our mother hadn’t crossed her mind…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Hahahaha that reminds me of when I was in assembly and I refused to say prayers. I was hauled out by the shoulder by a claw handed nun and told in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t start saying prayers, I would be on permanent detention.(she said she could see that my lips weren’t moving). So each time there were prayers after that, I would mime ‘rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb’. They never pulled me out again, but I think they knew I wasn’t saying them.:0) (passive resistance)

        Liked by 1 person

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