So why naughtyneighbour? To answer this I need to tell you a little bit about myself. Perhaps all this could be a story but one that I am not quite ready to tell. It would be a story of a lovely innocent childhood: homemade cakes, strong values and country walks. A childhood of fierce independence, sometimes loneliness and many a character building lesson learnt. I remember early childhood full of traditional pursuits, rosehip picking and pureeing, teddy bear picnics and walks by the sea. Somewhere in the midst of all this love and righteousness the balance was tipped and I began to see my parents efforts not through their eyes but as a binding constraint and I needed to leave home.
This is my second attempt at blogging. The simple process of writing down my thoughts brought back previous pleasures of letting go of emotions through the written word. After a while writing reminded me of the other equally important pleasure of reading. These things are important to me and this is my attempt to have them back in my life.
I don’t think I am very Naughty, of course I have never quite managed to live up to my family’s moral measure this is something I have to accept and live with. As a child and young adult much of my learning was acquired through books and I read gratuitously and inappropriately from a young age. I love the feeling that books gave me, one of naughtiness, finding out about life outside where you can feel without guilt, or react from the heart without prior moral adjustment.
If I am honest there is probably nothing written here that is that naughty, and if you are looking for nudity or profundity you may have come to the wrong place, but to me writing things down in my voice, uncensored from my head, using the odd crude term or naughty word, the odd inappropriate joke still feels like I am being a little risqué. Only now I should be allowed. I am at long last giving myself permission after all I have lived some part of a life and have seen enough and experienced enough to choose. This is my naughtyneighbour and maybe when we’ve become really acquainted, she may be allowed to stop over at my house.