Bicycle riders are largely a menace here on the isle. Clearly marked bike lanes and still riders are going against traffic or riding on the sidewalks and snarking at pedestrians who don't jump off the sidewalk fast enough. Share the road, I think, means: "Make way for me and superior method of transportation--greener than a car, more efficient than walking."
I have worked long and hard, and successfully by and large, at overcoming my irrational childhood terror of dogs. Then the other day a dog bit me as I was walking to town. Apparently it was my fault because I inadvertently stepped on a dried leaf and "startled" the dog. Good thing I wasn't bleeding as dog and owner kept right on walking.
I was reading a book from the library, Her Royal Spyness by Rhys Bowen. This is a line from pages 146-147:
I reminded myself of my ancestor Robert Bruce Rannoch, whose right arm had been hacked off in the battle of Bannockburn and had promptly transferred his sword to his left hand and gone on fighting.
Maybe that reads a bit awkwardly, maybe it's lacking some punctuation mark. I can't say, but I do know that the correction some previous reader felt compelled to pencil in certainly would not be correct.
I reminded myself of my ancestor Robert Bruce Rannoch, whose right arm had been hacked off in the battle of Bannockburn,and He had promptly transferred his sword to his left hand and gone on fighting.
I torture myself by logging onto the Martha Stewart web site. I totally believe in folding sheet sets together. In fact, some consider me a bit nutty about it. But when a start tying a festive ribbon around each set, it will be time for me to get a job in the real world.