Things you fail to notice in writing and in life

So I trundle downstairs this morning to find a spotless kitchen floor, but kitchen cupboards stained with brown. Husbad had dropped a cup of coffee. He had the brains to clean the floor before the Wrath of Wife descended on him, but even with all his academic and professional brilliance at his power, it simply did not occur to him that the coffee might have landed anywhere other than on the floor, and his eyes failed to register the streaky cupboards.

When I write, my eyes fail to register the word 'just', and I have to go through all my manuscripts using find and replace to cut the 'justs' down to a reasonable amount. I've found it occurring three or four times in a single sentence. I also don't always notice repeated words in my own writing - a much harder problem to fix as I can't use find and replace on every possible word I might have used (can I?).

Is there anything your eyes or brain simply refuse to register, either in your writing or in the world around you?

Spending your imaginary advance

JJ the Goblin says it's OK to blog brain fluff, thus refreshing my confidence in my ability to blog. Brain fluff. I can do that.

Today, however, I've come over all Proper Blogger and actually have a question which might be remotely interesting. There's a fine old wrangle going on at http://rejecter.blogspot.com/, basically The Rejecter vs Unpleasant Anonymous Blogger aka Anon 7.55. Hie on over there if you wish to follow the main thread of the argument. My question, vaguely arising out of their grandstanding, but requiring absolutely no knowledge of that to answer is: (drumroll)....

Your novel has just been accepted for publication (woo hoo!) for an advance of $5000 (hmm). What would you spend that money on?

Pointless entry

Jeez, I'm one lazy marsupial when it comes to blogging. About to go on another trip, so the situation won't improve much over the weekend.

I think the problem is that this blog has no focus. Bit like me, really.

You tell me. What should I blog about?

What fun it was in paradise...

Sea, sun, sand... Not that we froliced (should that have the 'k' or not?) much in the sea or on the sand, because when folk bring sand in lorries and lay it on bare rock in front of a tableau of oil tankers it's really not that inviting. The sun was good though. Apart from the rain.

OK, here's a very funny thing. Flight: $1000. Suncream: $15. Discovering suncream not waterproof after a whole day at the pool: priceless. When I could walk again (legs) and the littlest koala could open her eyes again (face) we bought new cream, to which Soccer/Cricket Boy then had an allergic reaction. Sooooo funny...

This sounds like a catalogue of disasters, but everything else was fab. Paradise. Best hotel swimming pools in the world. Three separate pools, all with warm water and one with water slides for little koalas. I like my pools hot, hot, hot and spent hours in a chlorine marinade. We eschewed the poolside bar for the water safety of the little koalas, but made up for it with cocktails later when the furry babes were tucked up tight in their eucalypt. We also had some top times with a friend from the old countree who now lives in paradise, and has a maid who looks after baby koalas and does grubby holiday washing while cooking dinner with her third hand. Maid? Angel.

No, I'm not telling you where paradise was. Koala secret.