9/2/2006

Well, OK

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:25 pm

In response to an overwhelming avalanche of requests (Thanks Annon & Lois - or whoever) here is the latest published pome.

Echoes of my Father

Fragments of a time of life long past
Hints of what was and hearts so brave
Young eager faces, bright and keen
All now dust and to us lost
Wavering images of honest bravery

I lost my father well before I thought
How much I wanted to know
About his story and the part
He played in serving Britain’s need
At Gallipoli, before his wound

Browning photos in a box at last
Discovered spur me on to save
His memory. Oh had I been
Told of duty at what cost
Of men who fought against sheer knavery

A faded paper foretells how they fought
Facing death at dice’s throw
The smart cloth and bright buttons’ art
Picture them brave before they feed
War’s mill, life’s dreams lost in savage sound

My Father pictured on his favourite horse
I know his Army number but
A war beyond the one to end all war
Destroyed his records and stole from me
His story. Fragments left fuel my remembrance

Remember me???

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:34 pm

(Hides behind pillow and quivers a lot) Well, Henry’s been after me again and I have, indeed, been delinquent. I’ve also been delinquent about going to the gym. There’s been a lot going on and I can’t get it all straight in my head.

Part of it is that I’ve been ‘volunteered’ again. I went to a business do and met the Director for Economic Development for Poole. (Reverent silence) After a bit of chat he volunteered me for DorMen. Which sounded like big blokes with tattoos in dinner jackets smashing stroppy people in the face. Nope. Dor(set) Men(tors) for Business. In other words trying to help people with small businesses who have problems. Fascinating.

So last week I had a lady dressmaker, a couple making hand-built kayaks and a painter / artist. Phew.

Meanwhile Herself is off to another Dolls House Fair. She’s giving it a lot of wellie - and doing v. well.

Health-wise I had a serious blood test and a meeting with the Doc. I’m STILL overweight but the rest of it is much better. I saw ‘Buster’ on the tv who is still working at 100 years of age. That would be good. Hmm.

Delighted to read Henry’s blogs and the question of publication. All I have to offer is that another poem has been published. Knowing how wickedly difficult it is to have one’s poetry published (other than by self-publishing) I’m quite chuffed. I must find time to write more.

I think this blog is rather flat - which may be part of the reason why I’ve not posted for a month. Nothing moving to say - unless I get on a hobby-horse!! And I’ve got a few of those. Mainly about the worst government (no cap. g for this lot) that we’ve ever had which is destroying my country. So we won’t go there.

Well, for good or ill I’m here. I’ve been having my nose rubbed in the truth that people work from their perception of others, not ‘facts’. So perhaps we should stop, step back, and challenge our perceptions of others. We could well be wrong about them.

It’s good to be back again. Go in peace. Dad

7/25/2006

I’m truly sorry

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:52 pm

Hot evening and Jools Holland playing. But I have to attend to my faithful and despairing audience. (Adjusts hat on swelled head)

Henry phoned to say ‘Dad, you’ve dropped off the radar. Are you OK?’ He’s good, is Henry. (Basks)

Well I’ve had a few minor health thingys - but mostly Herself has been flat-chat on teeny-tinying for Fairs and web-site orders. I’m so proud of her and what she does. And then there’s the computery.

It’s simple, right? We have a Small Office. 3 PC’s and 1 laptop. 4 printers. We used to have a network which is hard-wired. Installed by a PERSON when I could afford to pay someone. Good. Got new m/c’s and want to re-build network. Simple. Oh mother - !!!!

One step at a time. Sneak up on it. Move computers to sites. Yup. Scrabble about under desks (again) to locate network connections and cables. Yup. Connect PC’s to wiring with existing cables. Yup. Being fussy I labelled the original cables - 1, 2, 3. Spare cable for laptop marked ’spare’. Find cable labelled 5. Huh? Move on.

Go to PC World and buy 5 port switch. Bring home. Open box and scratch head. Back of box has 5 ports for ethernet cables and connector for power. Front has 9 little lights with no markings. Huh?

Return to PC World saying - Huh? Nice man (they’re all VERY NICE) phones supplier saying ‘5 port switch in 8 port box what do lights mean?’ Well, apparently that was impossible. And went on for some time.

After all that he said ‘I wouldn’t do it that way anyway’.

Return confused 5 port switch. Buy new box. Open bottle.

What is it with computery?

I’ve signed on to a single interest chat group (if that’s the right term). The interest is an author of childrens’ books and the books he wrote. Innocent - non-political. The people in the group are so horrid to others. Which is so far outside the core themes of the books he wrote. (Alright - it’s Arthur Ransome and the Swallows and Amazons books. If you haven’t read them - you should)

How should we deal with people who are being verbally horrid? By bypassing what they say and looking forward to positive things, not back to negative ones.

Easy to say. Very hard to do. And I fail, from time to time. After all, he WAS rude - wozznit??

Have a peaceful week, friends - Dad

7/9/2006

Dear me

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:41 pm

Well. I had a bad night, OK? So when the question of breakfast arose I thought - ‘Stuff it - I want kippers’ Because we have hidden away real Manx kippers. Fried in butter they are GORGEOUS!! Urp!

Then I came to the challenge of installing the new computery. Head in hands. Lying on the floor. Wondering why x didn’t work. And.

But it’s there. Next problem - re-build the network. Not today.

Now shield your eyes, you delicate female persons but I have a problem. NO - NOT that problem.
I’m sick and tired of stupid spam mail about medication and my pesonal bits and pieces. But try this one:

Wow! Check out this huge enlargement patch sale!

Hmm.

This is a sale of a patch that only works for huge enlargements?
The patch to be sold consists of a huge enlargement?
This is the biggest ever sale of h.e.patches?

How can we stop this revolting stuff? I’m old, mildly wise and unsurprised by most things - BUT
I don’t need this - and my dear wife who also sees this stuff certainly doesn’t need it!! And they don’t speak English either!!

Dad’s thoughts today?

Every decade our life objectives change. It seems to work almost exactly at the zero - 10 / 20 / 30 / & etc. Have you revised your objectives for your next decade? You really should. It will change your life and you need to change your life. Go in peace - Dad

7/7/2006

Unreal!

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:27 pm

I know this thing.

At the Pyrford pub half a pint of lemon & lime is £1.80 and a pint is £3.07. Huh?

How do I know? I foned Spirit Group. 7 times. Listened to so-called music for 15 mins and hung up on 4 times and switched to The Cruise Store call centre in Accrington once. Cor!

FINALLY got a Manager having been told there were none - do they think I’m totally stupid or merely mildly daft?

We got on fine. I said I had been abused and what were they going to do about that? Call back Monday. Also asked how a pint of l & l could cost £3 plus given what 2 litres of lemonade costs in Tescos. Huh.

More news as it unfolds.

Dad

7/5/2006

Whew!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:57 pm

B RILLIANT NEWS!! Herself had an urgent brain scan for a possible brain tumour - ‘It’s probably nothing - -’ - and then learned she had to wait 4 months for the result. Talk about the elephant in the room. The two of us carefully NOT MENTIONING IT. Why not phone the hospital? Actually because having phoned 8 times - always engaged - one loses hope. Why not ask your GP? Perhaps. Well I’m in some danger of taking this up because I love you to bits and this is stupid. Oh well. She did. And he phoned last night and said ‘All clear - nuffink’ All gone elephant, return to what passes for normal living. Please be happy for her (and me - a bit)

Lovely gentle rain for about 4 hours this morning so no need to water the new plants. Mind you the humidity now is about 120% so we’re both working on computers and not moving much. I’ve never thought of wringing out a polo shirt before.

Which brings me to the great computer re-jig. Well. New Toshiba Laptop installed and working. If you remember I scored a £100 plus VAT (!) credit on a special offer price. So that’s a result.

We have been burrowing under desks and clearing out stuff we should have binned ages ago to make room for moving other stuff about. So off to the tip today with a dead fax, a dead shredder and 3 huge bags of paper including a mound of shredded special stuff. Then out with the vacuum cleaner to remove n years’ worth of dust. And we found all sorts of wires and widgets disconnected in the past and left languishing by the folks we used to be able to afford to do this for us. Why leave it lying there? People can be weird. Phew. Despite the rain we were hot and sweaty and it’s a right pain rolling about under desks.

The rain having cooled things down I went for the next phase - moving old PC (renamed PC 3) from Desk 2 to Desk 3 in the Library. Now don’t laugh. For my work over the years I’ve acquired a library of about 1,000 books and they had to go somewhere. So having had one of the original two garages converted to make an office (v. smart it is too) I then quite illegally had a Library with shelves, a big stationery cupboard and a desk etc built into half the remaining garage. The rest of the space is filled with - well - more stuff. Plus a motor scooter with only 500 miles on it and a decrepit bicycle from the days when - -. This PC won’t be on the network (it’s only Windows 2000 which HATES networking) but has much stuff on it and is v. useful.

So we moved it. I got sweaty and dusty but we turned it on and it’s fine. Phew! Now we move PC 2 from Desk 1 to Desk 2 and plumb it in to the network. Puff. THEN we install brand new PC 1 on Desk 1 as a server and finish the network with an internet link through a new hub. Wozzit.

I’m sure you found that fascinating. But it’s like that down here in Dorset.

Meanwhile the birds with their young bring great pleasure - and we now have Mr & Mrs Jay plus two new kids. These birds are so shy that it’s a great treat to see them feeling secure in the garden - eating, bathing and generally owning the place.

I have come to loathe e-mail. People can be so nasty. And it’s so easy to be misunderstood. I joined a blog ring related to a particular interest of mine and having watched for a while posting something meant to be upbeat and positive. But I was a newcomer and NOT part of the establishment. So rocks fell on my head for daring to be challenging (called aggressive).

So my thoughts today are to take especial care over e-comms. Try not to trample on people - not that you would!

We are all governed by perception, not fact. Managing other people’s perception is a key element in effective communication.

Hmm. Sounds like a lecture - so please read it as I intended it, not as you see it. (Perception, see?)

Have a peaceful day - Dad

7/3/2006

Action and reaction

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:20 pm

A funny day today. The Management Committee (Herself and I take the notes) decided that it was too hot for me to go to the gym. Oh well. The part of me that suffers from errors of omission and commission felt guilty. The other bit - with the sweaty socks and underwear - thought ‘That’s a good idea’.

Then there’s the on-going installation of computery. Well, who would expect anyone to crawl under desks in this weather? But I’ll think about it - honest.

So I turned to and wrote significant e-mails to people. With attachments. So that’s OK.

Does music make you cry? In my youf (sic) I was a chorister in both Church and Abbey (a.k.a. Cathedral) and sang in other choirs. No more. That hurts quite a lot, in truth. But today I loaded John Denver on the m/c as I typed away and off he went. There are two songs that reduce me to tears. Sunshine on my shoulders and My sweet lady. Done. Finished. Tears pouring down my face. I’ve thought about that and concluded (rightly or wrongly) that as I have aged I understand much more clearly the significance of the words. This leads to an awful thought - one day I will be old enough to understand it all - and the moment I do I’ll snuff it before I can explain it to anyone. Spooky or what?

I’ve been scanning and sending stuff from my past to sundry people and children. As I said in my last post I missed out on my Dad. But will anyone care a damn about my history? Probably not. Just more baggage.

What a pathetic blog. But I’ll let it stand.

Dad’s thought today?

Winners are part of the answer but Losers are part of the problem. So don’t be a Loser - OK?

Have a peaceful day - Dad

7/2/2006

July already!

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:01 pm

It’s swelteringly hot (100 degs in old money) and Emmy Lou Harris is singing.

New computers today - and what a total pain it is. Plug and play? Plug and swear a great deal.

To make room for the new stuff and fire up the network we have to shift stuff. What stuff? Opening long closed boxes and saying - ‘Grief!’ The Tip is going to get a battering when we get all this old stuff down there. BUT - Wait a moment. Some of this stuff may be of historic value (well a bit, anyway) aaargh. Would my dear offspring like to have this? Oh Hell.

It’s too hot to say much. But - Dad thought -

‘To thine own self be true’ Shakespeare and Hamlet. Yup. What self are you? Perhaps a mix of attentive nature and assertive behaviour? That’s quite good.

Your Self?

Go on - think about it and then LIVE IT!

May your God go with you, friends - Dad

My Father died when I was in my thirties and knocking myself out with my career. So I never asked him about his life - because I know he’d always be thgere and I could ask him next week. Phut. Will my offspring feel the same?

6/23/2006

Where was I?

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:58 pm

Sun burning down, Brendan Croker playing, time to think at last.

As you all know, Jays are incredibly beautiful birds - and very, very shy. So few people ever see them. They are big - as pigeons but a much nicer shape - and have a lovely pinky brown body, white and bright blue wings and a Mexican moustache. They are described as the most colourful of crows. Well Herself loves her birds and our back garden is planted and managed for them. So we have Mr & Mrs Jay plus two new ones as residents. They are so confident that they spend ages in the garden, eating, drinking, bathing. It’s hard to get things done because they are so lovely to see. Aaaah.

Herself has been in a frenzy for a while because on Sunday she has a Dolls House Fair at which she is exhibiting. She makes such lovely things. Gobsmacked, I am. Please wish her well.

OFFER: Join in! She has a half-litre brandy bottle full of Smarties (M & M’s kind of thing) and FOR FREE you can enter the Smarty Challenge. How many are there? The answer is somewhere between 1 and 500. If you guess near enough you win £15 of Vouchers to buy in-miniature stuff (pls see web site in-miniature.com) You know you heard it here first!!

I’ve been flat-chat this week mostly with Year in Industry stuff. This scheme places students in a company for a year between leaving school and going up to uni. Phew! Award semi-finals, a presentation to a school and a student who got fired. I give up. I’m going to hibernate from now to Monday when it all breaks loose again.

So much to say - so little time.

Dad’s thought?
Every day needs a Focus. Is today a day for ‘work’? (go for it) Is today a day for ‘celebration’? Is today a day for ‘reflection’? Is today a day for ‘rest’? Re-arrange your priorities according to ‘your day’. Dear me, it prevents guilt and simplifies choices.

Sleep well and have a tranquil weekend -

Dad

6/8/2006

What is it with people?

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:17 pm

Lovely evening and sweet music playing. Herself is watering the new plants in the front garden and is off tomorrow to help with her Mum’s 80th. birthday. I have to say that I love my wife to bits - and we discussed this phenomenon yesterday. We decided it’s because we are friends first. It’s good, though.

A funny day today. Odd e mails to answer, odd stuff to do in the village. BUT - cheese fondue for lunch. Oh do I love that.

So why is the world full of idiots? Example 1 - Mail shot from Staples - where we have a business account - and we liked the Toshiba laptop. Phone up, give credit card details. Mail shot says free next day delivery. No. Call a few days later - where laptop? Not availbale. But I ordered it and ‘he’ said it would be shipped. Nope. Cancel order? Nope. And etc. And etc. Phoned today - Toshiba will deliver it in 2 / 3 days. Stupid.

Example 2 - Nationwide Bldg. Soc. Don’t ask. 3 phone calls and the last one hung up on me. Fourth one - get some sense. AAaarrggh.

Now I’ve been to the gym Monday and Wednesday. Increased my work on each machine every time. And now I ache everywhere. Should I go there tomorrow? Pls vote yes or no. I#ll do what you say.

Dad’s last word?

Just for one day you will not be afraid.
Just for one day you will put your past into its place - in the past.
Just for one day you will look out for what is lovely in the world.
Just for one day you will offer friendship and beauty to others.
Just for one day you will be calm, relaxed and amiable.

You can manage that just for one day. So manage it for the next day, too.
And if you fail? No sweat. Start over again.

You know you can do it.

Love to you all - Dad

6/5/2006

Phew!

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:58 pm

Evening time and unusal for me to be writing a blog. Playing Chet Atkins. Been a hot day and is now a calm pre-night.

Well the weekend was fine. Friday I visited and stayed with long standing friends (since we were all teenagers) in their new house. Then on to Lucy, Matthew and THEN stayed with their Mum. All really great visits. Come Sunday I’m on the boat with Henry and Trouty. Call for directions, drive there and park up. Car behind me pulls up in front of BIG GATES and a small guy gets out and opens gate 1. Scuse me I say, but I’m supposed to meet a boat here - could you tell me where it might be? Oh, you must be Henry’s Dad. Knockout. Henry hasn’t got the boat there yet so Stuart brings out a chair for me to sit in whilst I await Henry’s arrival. Beat that. Magic. SUCH a nice bloke.

Smashing trip on the canal, lovely picnic lunch, and, and. Perfect.

Drove home. Marvelled at driving idiots. Oh well.

Knackered today after all this social intercourse but went to gym and raised performance on all machines. Promise myself I’ll repeat Wednesday and Friday. Grow muscles (again) Be strong. Die later. Huh?

Lots more happening but it’s late. Dad’s thoughts?
Be very conscious of your body language. 55% of what you communicate to others comes from what they SEE of you. Think friendship and so out-think the plug-uglies. Sleep well. Dad

5/30/2006

What a day!

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:55 pm

Well, here I am playing the music, the sun shining down benignly, peace and calm around. Now.

Off this morning, sharp as a pin, dressed to impress and wearing the Calcutta Light Horse tie. (Oh come on, you all know about the CLH - surely. If not, please ask) Doing my mentoring job with a Student who has some problems. That was good. He’s a nice young person.

Then Herself’s Doctor brother plus one son visits. Lots of ‘war stories’ from my time as an undergraduate in Cambridge and an Officer Cadet - and later on in business. Then they saw a pic of me in my kilt so I got them to try one on. ‘Oh, isn’t it heavy!’ Yup. That’s why it looks so good.

Why do people wear trousers when they go walking? A kilt is so much more comfortable.

T’other son was up at Cambridge and last year asked for help. Doctor Dad has a different knowledge base and asked if I could help. So I did. And had a load of fun doing it. Well, the work I did earned a Star First. Now you might say that was unfair because I did the work - not him. But he had enough nouse to ask me. Hmm. Whatever. To me it’s my Star First.

White van appears outside - ding-dong. Bottle of malt whisky and two crystal glasses from my apologetic bank - and that on top of the three figure sum into my a/c last week. Cool.

Herself is off tomorrow to visit bereaved Mother. Not easy. Doctor brother says that if a close loved one dies - move the furniture. Otherwise the close person will get ‘flash-backs’ - and think they’re going mad. I never thought about that. The mind is a wonderful thing.

I’m ingesting small but significant quantities of malt whisky and have about run out of steam after all that. So what is today’s thought?

People are funny. We are all driven by our perception of others - not by the facts. If I think you are rude - then for me, you are rude. The fact that you did not intend to be rude and can’t understand where I’m coming from is irrelevant.

Work with other people’s perceptions and manage your own perceptions of others. Easy? Never. Vital? Always. Sleep tight my friends - Dad

5/29/2006

Oh joy, oh bliss

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:11 pm

I’m off next weekend to spend time with my lovely kids. Kids? they’re in their 40’s.

My beloved Lucy, Matthew and - er - ‘Henry’. I can’t wait.

I love my kids so much. The joy of seeing them, of hugging them. Indeed of kissing them. To think that they kiss me - at our age and stage. My heart bursts with love for them.

We hope for so much for our kids.

What wise words has Dad today? Surely we all love our kids. But remember - other people are other people’s kids. Perhaps we should love them too.

Sleep well - Dad

Well that one failed

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:21 pm

Just for a change, the sun is shining. I’m listening to Glen Campbell. Well, someone should.

Lovely phone call from Henry’s Mum. I love her so much.

Off next weekend - with luck - to see my lovely kids (kids!!) and a couple of (truly) old friends. That will be so good. But I have a problem. The lovely but menatlly disbaled son of one of my old friends expects to see me in my kilt. And all the kit. Hmmm.

Which brings me to my last post. I expected a torrent of comment. You think it doesn’t matter? Well, if so, my Country is lost.

It’s hard for me to to think calmly - but -
The feminist movement has shot itself in the foot. I have been pro-active about the place of women in the world. But many women are not seeking equality. Equality of opportunity but deference to gender. Well ladies - one or the other. I know which one I vote for. Why not you?

5/27/2006

I’m not sure how you feel about this

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:53 pm

A long standing friend of mine received a copy of an editorial published in the Australian press. And sent me a copy. As it happens, Herself was, as I’m sure I’ve yarned to you about, a £10 Pom - she emigrated to Australia for £10 and stayed there for 10 years. She misses it desperately and keeps trying to get me to get us to visit - preferably for an infinite period of time. So the following script rang a big bell with her. And it does with me. Because the parallels with the UK (oops, sorry, bliar has destroyed that - but you know what I mean) are too close for comfort. But no-one here is saying what this guy is saying so clearly. Hmm. I share this with you not to start a riot but to kick-start some thinking. Hopefully.

Our Country - YOU Have the right - the right to leave !

After hearing about Sydney not wanting to offend other cultures by putting
up Xmas lights; after hearing that the State of South Australia changed its
opinion and let a Muslim woman have her picture on her driver’s license
with her face covered; this prompted this editorial written by an
Australian citizen. Published in an Australian newspaper.

Quote:
IMMIGRANTS, NOT AUSTRALIANS, MUST ADAPT.
Take It Or Leave It

I am tired of this Nation worrying about whether we are offending some
individual or their culture.

Since the terrorist attacks on Bali, we have experienced a surge in
patriotism by the majority of Australians. However, the dust from the
attacks had barely settled when the “politically correct” crowd began
complaining about the possibility that our patriotism was offending others.
I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is
seeking a better life by coming to Australia. However, there are a few
things that those who have recently come to our country, and apparently
some born here, need to understand. This idea of Australia being a
multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our
national identity.

As Australians, we have our own culture, our own society, our own language
and our own lifestyle. This culture has been developed over two centuries of
struggles, trials and victories by millions of men and women who have
sought freedom. We speak ENGLISH, not Spanish, Lebanese, Arabic, Chinese,
Japanese, Russian, or any other language. Therefore, if you wish to become part
of our society, Learn the language!

“In God We Trust” is our National Motto. This is not some Christian, right
wing, political slogan. We adopted this motto because Christian men and
women, on Christian principles, founded this Nation, and this is clearly
documented. It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our
schools. If God offends you, then I suggest you consider another part of
the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture. If the
Southern Cross offends you, or you don’t like ” A Fair Go", then you
should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet. We are
happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don’t
care how you did things where you came from. This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND,
and OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all
this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and griping about Our
Flag, Our Pledge, Our National Motto, or Our Way of Life, I highly
encourage you take advantage of one other great Australian freedom, “THE
RIGHT TO LEAVE".

If you aren’t happy here then f#@* off! We didn’t force you to come here.
You asked to be here. So accept the country YOU accepted. Pretty easy
really, when you think about it.

Well, like it or not - that makes one think. So-called multiculturalism in the ragged remains of our once united and focused land is simply setting person against person. For that reason alone I think it is a lousy concept. But what a very tangled web faces us.

I’m very troubled for what used to be my country. I’m almost glad that I’m old and so won’t see how this horrendous mess plays itself out. I pass the poisoned chalice to you youngsters.

And my closing thought? Cherish and protect our innocent young who know not that they will carry the burden of our future on their slim shoulders.

My love to you all - Dad

5/26/2006

More results

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:19 pm

Finished re-planting the front garden and putting down the bark mulch. A nice job. Now we start on the back. The poor old garden suffered badly because I wasn’t well enough to look after it - so it needs a big makeover. With the help of Julian who does the work (I just pay the money and buy the stuff we need) it should all be fine by the end of the summer. Aaah.

Herself had the brain-scan this morning. Now we chew fingernails waiting for the result. Brain tumour or not? Please cross everything for her. We’ll be on a knife-edge for at least a fortnight.

Meanwhile I got another result from a certain Bank which has been messing me about. £150 in my account and 3 bottles of superior malt whisky. Presumably to prevent me from remembering what they did.

Meanwhile have offered Henry the loan of my metal detector and have to drive up there with it. So I get to see the family. That’ll be good. Do I get a percentage of whatever he finds? Hmm.

Lastly have been interested to see chatter on Henry’s site about giving up smoking. For some time I was an expert because I gave up regularly. I started smoking because back in those days (Think WW 2) doctors said that smoking was good for your health because it killed off the germs - true! Anyway one Sunday Henry’s Mum and I were sitting in front of the fire reading Sunday papers and I said I was giving up (not again!) and would she? Answer - yes if you’re still not smoking next week. Action replay - next week, fire, papers, I said ‘Have you got a cigarette?’ Ask most smokers and they haul out a packet and wave it at you without another thought. So she did. I can see it in my mind’s eye today. A packet of 20 Senior Service with only two fags gone. So I threw it on the fire. The row that followed was well nigh homicidal. But she stopped too. Which is how Henry’s Mum and Dad stopped smoking. And, no, I have no idea why it worked then when it hadn’t worked several times before. But neither of us smoked again. And Henry was a small babe in a carrycot at the time.

Dad’s thought today? A life spent trying and making some mistakes is much more valuable than a life spent doing nothing but complain about the mistakes of others.

Peace to you all - Dad

5/21/2006

Sorry about the delayed service

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:00 pm

Things have been a bit busy this week! But here I am with the rain pouring down and listening to Chet Atkins with Mark Knopfler. Just what I need today.

Service of Thanksgiving for Herself’s Dad today and I should have been taking her there and joining in. But I was up last night with problems at both ends and am still in that state! So Plan B is that she went up on her own, with the cold lunch for 10 made early this morning and will overnight with sister. Back tomorrow. There are some weird bugs about. And I feel really bad not being with her.

I sent the following letter to the D.Telegraph (don’t worry, they won’t publish it):

Seeking to enjoy the Young Musicians’ final I was reminded brutally that modern music is wholly unmusical and without merit. Which reminded me that modern art is inartistic and real filthy beds, dead animals or drunken explosions of colour lack any merit. Meanwhile many of today’s children are inarticulate, innumerate and illiterate. So from whence come the people who teach our young to be inept and unable? And who is teaching the teachers to sabotage our cultural life?

But have you any kind of answer to my question? Looked at objectively, our so-called civilisation here in the UK (oops, sorry, bliar has destroyed the UK - but you know what I mean) is seriouly uncivilised and getting worse week by week. Public bad behaviour, untaught and undisciplined children, gross levels and types of crime, ever lower standards everywhere - the list could go on for ages. What on earth is driving this ever downwards? But it’s reaching catastrophic proportions and we all seem to be sleepwalking down the slope. And no-one is kicking up a fuss. Just one-off grumbles about one-off events. Where’s the National Movement to stop this NOW and turn it around?

Surely no sane person wishes to live in the environment we have now - let alone the abyss into which we are being pitched?

Back to the Young Musicians - the wrong person won it. It should have been the pianist. Stunning. As for the percussionist - as a one-time drum player, including military band, jazz and classical - words fail me. Is he thinking of adding tap-dancing, eating ice-cream and juggling 5 multi-coloured balls to his act? Save me!!

Shades of the film Mrs Henderson - I played the drums in a jazz club in a basement across the (narrow) road where The Windmill Theatre is. Cor, I was wicked in those days!! But you knew that, didn’t you?

Think positive, Dad!! Yeah - got a result yesterday. Four phone points in the house. Two in the office - one for fax / phone and the other for phone. One in our bedroom. One in the living room - with a walk-about phone. Had it for some years and the battery has died. Cheaper to change the phone than buy another battery - if you can get one to suit an old piece of kit. So off I go.

Study phones and find only one that also has an answerphone facility. OK. After some trouble find a Person. I’d like one of those, please. Pause. Gets key, opens doors to stock. We haven’t got one. Oh. Well that’s a bit silly - why is it on display? AH but we have some NEW phones that are NOT on display. Go on, show me. Here’s this one. GOOD - does it have an answerphone feature? (Sighs) Yup - you can see the green button on the pic on the box. Are you SURE? Yup. So I buy it.

Get home, open box, grab instructions - and you’ve already guessed - NOPE. No answerphone. Back in car, down road, ask for The Manager. Made a strong case for being messed about. Much clattering of computer keys. We haven’t got one in stock. Oh. I will credit you for the one you returned, would you like the display one for nothing?

Well, that’s a result. I thanked him a lot. It’s very smart and has all sorts of fancy features, too. It’s worrking a treat.

Time I left. So what’s Dad on about today?

There’s a game called Prisoner’s Dilemma. It was created to study the effect of choosing to co-operate - or not - with someone with whom you negotiate. You will find lots of references on the internet. The bottom line is that you get further by co-operation than by power-play. Depending on the real situation. So I might gain with a power-play today - but what about tomorrow. Anyway -

If your opening approach to others is co-operation rather than isolated power-play - in general you get more of what you want - and less of what you don’t want.

Hey - have a peaceful day - Dad

5/13/2006

Moving right along

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:47 pm

Well, dear me, a lumpy day today. Herself is still with her family so I’m on my own. Up at 5 o/c this am (that’s usual) got the morning papers at 6 and drank tea / read papers for a while. Then off to the Village - so nice. The people are so nice to me. Then two long phone calls from (literally) old friends asking for my help / advice / w.h.y. about stuff. So that was nice too - and I’ve spent a bunch of time creating a PowerPoint Video Presentation for one of them. ‘Cause he can’t do it himself.

Watched the Qualifying for F 1. Looking forward to the race but Herself is having lunch with Mum and won’t be back here in time. Oh well.

I shouldn’t show off, but one of my old friends said such a nice thing about me:
You’re a person who lights up a room when you come in - not because you have left.
What a lovely thing to say.

Well - off to make supper but here’s a thought:
If all the economists in the world were laid end to end they wouldn’t reach a conclusion. So who said that?

And my thought? Why not be nice to people - they may have had a really horrid day in which case you will bring them pleasure. If they’ve had a good day - they will share their pleasure with you.

Sleep well, friends - Dad

5/12/2006

What??

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:14 pm

Why is my SECOND blog published before my FIRST blog?

Answers on a bank note please!!!!

Dad

Not a good day

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:56 am

Which first? The good or the bad? Well it’s a lovely warm and sunny day today.

And thanks to Jane for suggesting California as an alternative to Vermont. I was fortunate enough to spend about 10 years of my business life working in International as people put it. So I saw most - not all - of the world (watch out or I’ll tell you about the British Trade Missions I led to the USSR and India) and a fair amount of the USA - including California. I was often in San Fran, LA and San Diego on business - and over time spread myself about by car to sightsee and enjoy. I must have had the occasional bad experience, but none come to mind. I have some lovely memories of lovely people. Apart from an occasional lack of sense of humour over security (and this decades before 9 / 11).

I was staying in a large hotel in LA. Breakfast tray from room service. Being a tidy chap, I went to put the tray outside my door. I happened to be stark naked at the time. Don’t ask me how, but I over-reached myself and the door - on a very strong spring for security reasons - slammed shut behind me. Well now. Stifle scream and see wall-phone for maids to use. Call down. Pls. will someone let me back into my room NOW - if not sooner. And run into deep suspicion. Hang on to phone, face to wall, assailed by transfers and long waits whilst phones brrr somewhere. At last deep cross questioning. How could I PROVE I was the occupant? Try that with no clothes on. Suggest that nudist robbery was a very unlikely form of sport in LA - or anywhere apart from a nudist colony. And what happens? They send a VERY BIG MAN with a VERY BIG GUN who stands well back and DEMANDS that I face him, then DEMANDS that I prove who I am. You couldn’t make it up.

However the adult readers amongst us will know intuitively that standing naked in a hotel corridor trying to reason with a gun-wielding idiot whilst the occasional disbelieving guest passes by (direct to the Front Desk to complain, doubtless) makes the male dangly bits try and hide themselves. So I’m not even a - how shall I put it? - robust looking nudist. Probably about as - how shall we say? - ‘well formed’ as a 7 year old just after swimming in a country stream in November. Stupid sod. Him, not me. I told him to open the door, open my passport which was lying exactly THERE and I would tell him the dates of the latest three stamps in it and the countries that made them. Well THAT was stupid of me. With a BIG GUN who needs to know about passports? However, it worked in the end. When I checked out no-one would look me in the eye. Yeah, it’s a c-o-o-l place, California!!!! And thanks, Jane. Don’t let me know your address or I might just - -. No, don’t go there.

Enough for this blog - I’ll write another.

I’m on a GBS kick just now (oh, you’ve noticed) ‘Do not do unto others as you would they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same’. Couldn’t put it better myself!

Dad

Not a good day Pt II

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:56 am

Starting this one with lordh. Yup, the fondue was magic. And, sorry, no cigar for 833. But hey - that cuts down the choice for the others so you done good there!! (Always look on the bright side - because with a labour gov’t you are BOUND to get pxxxxd on sooner rather than later and you need all the cheer you can find)

Well the promised bad news is about Herself’s much loved father. He had a major heart op. and has suffered from leukemia for some time. He has been bed-bound at home for the last 8 months being looked after by Mum - of whom more anon. Needed oxygen to breathe, personal functions not good. And etc.

Having put my yesterday blog on, the phone lights up. He has had a seizure / heart attack (?) Wiped out. Emergency ambulance to hospital. Attempted resucitation but feared brain dead. Do we go or stay (other family members much nearer) Then - that’s it. Passed away in the hospital. It’s over.

As I’ve said before he was such a lovely man. The family are Born Again Christians and their Church was founded by Grandad. I’ve been there and the people in the Church Community are incredible. Then I read about these animals in schools and on our streets. And rage. He and Mum are two absolute golden people. Those disgusting louts are not fit to lick his boots. And the certainty is that if one of them attempted to - he would never have let them.

So we tried Plan A - I drove us up there this morning, overnight at an eye-wateringly expensive hotel, back tomorrow. Neither of us slept too well so at about 3 o/c I suggested Plan B - she drives up today and stays with her sister for as long as Mum needs her. So we did Plan B. She set off early and is safely up and at it there.

And wouldn’t you know. Mum’s 80th birthday is in June and many plans have been made - and kit bought - to celebrate a wonderful occasion for two wonderful people. Smash. Smithereens. And how will Mum feel? A long, close marriage - and she’s not too well herself. Hmm.

But it was a matter of when, not if. And someone who has unselfishly done so much for so many disadvantaged people will, indeed, be warmly welcomed in the Heaven he so richly deserves.

Note to terrorists of whatever kind - please read this and think about it. But they won’t.

Sorry - I’m in tears writing this and I probably shouldn’t have let it out. Why oh why do the SXXXS survive - and the decent people suffer? Just one of many, many questions. What right has prescot to life when such a fine man has been taken? Answer that, and I’ll know the secret of the universe.

Slightly over the top here, I’m afraid. But that’s the way it is.

In ‘usual’ terms my father was older than usual when I was born. Later I was fairly newly married with two kids and working every hour I could travelling and trying to succeed in my business career. Busy, busy, busy. But my father would go on for ever. Then, one day, he’d gone. But I’d never asked him about his life. About his work. About - well - him. And now I’ll never know. I can’t tell you how much this hurts me - quite often - today almost 40 years after his death. PLEASE don’t make my mistake.

I’m out of here - but my love to you all - Dad

5/11/2006

Oh well -

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:28 pm

You could say that my Vermont blog fell flat as a pancake. SURELY we have a blogger in Vermont? No? Then please will someone FIND ONE!!!

Anyway, I’m working hard over my computer today, the weather is overcast but warm - and I’m playing 3 o/c in the morning jazz. Yeah!

Herself is busy creating more teeny-tiny stuff, working e-bay and her web-site. I don’t know. But she’s happy which is the most important thing.

She’s come up with a ’super wheeze’ for her next Fair. A competition to guess the number of Smarties in (an empty) half-litre-brandy-bottle. I was forced to drink the brandy to enable her to do this. Entries from you all will be accepted - the number is 3 digits, neither 2 nor 4. So that makes it much easier for you to win. NO CHEATING!! But preference given to entries enclosing a soiled bundle of used current bank notes. Watch this space for ACTION!!

Long standing very good friend from the Training Days phoned yesterday having small hysterics. Wants to run a day programme of training, got the venue lined up - paid money - PANIC! What to talk about? Well, I would have thought that you STARTED with what to talk about and went on from there, but what do I know? But it gave me some fun. So I e-mailed him some stuff with an outline programme - entitled More Profit in only 20 small steps. Profit is the POWER that drives your Business. And so forth.

Pause for thought. Actually making a profit is the only thing that drives the success and comfort of the inhabitants of our isle. Why doesn’t brown know this. As for bliar - well you can only laugh, can’t you. bliar, brown and punchy two XXags all together in a bag of total stupidity. If that was a TV series you would give up watching because it was so removed from reality. Except that it’s OUR reality. We’re stuck with these stupid, thick, hopeless, perverted bastards. PLEASE tell me the name of the only person in Britain who voted for this lot because he needs what we Therapists call ‘re-orientating’. As for crims having more rights than I have - or more worrying still - Herself has. Words fortunately fail me.

Which is why our troops should be out of Iraq. I’m all in favour of our Navy Army and RAF - having been in two of them and wanted to be in the other one. But if Iraq wants to have a civil war - go for it, guys. Without us.

I wrote an unpublished (as usual) letter to the D.T. saying that after we cut India adrift (a big mistake) it blew up and became India, Pakistan and Bangladesh - plus a few bits. Same scenario in Iraq. Kurds, Shias and Sunnis. Go for it. The sooner it divides, the sooner they’ll stop killing each other. And us.

Whence came this political rant? Weird. I had no idea my blog would go this way when I started writing it. I guess I am just royally ‘thinged off’ with this crappy bunch of thieves (prescot and his homes / cars / money? I wouldn’t pay the stupid sod in rusty washers)

Which reminds me of G.B.Shaw: ‘A government that robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul’. Well he seems to have got that right.

Takes deep breff.

Lovely sons’ roses / flowers STILL going strong. Malt whisky long gone. But the memory lingers on. I am so lucky with my kids. (Kids? They’re in their 40’s!!)

Almost fully re-planted front garden is looking fine.

AND - Yowzah Yowzah - it’s Swiss cheese fondue for lunch today!!!!!!! I’m off to open another botle of wine. I couldn’t bear to run out.

People say that they like or want to live in a community. But a community is like a bank account. If you don’t pay in - after a while you can’t draw out.

We’re lucky, because we live near The Village. A lovely place to visit, to shop, to meet and talk with people. I HATE the urban environment and have not visited Poole or Bournemouth town centres for years. But we visit The Village most days. We put in our bit - and are paid back handsomely in kindness, courtesy and care.

Just a thought. Dad

5/9/2006

There I was

Filed under: — Dad @ 9:27 pm

I don’t know why, but I’ve been thinking about Vermont. It’s what I would call a County in the upper part of our Colony - America.

I’ve been there several times and the colonists have been really friendly.

The small Inns in which I stayed were really nice. The people were really friendly. I drove a ‘muscle-car’ at a speed well above the posted limits. Most special of all - I bought some letters written in the 1800’s. Lovely.

I’d like to vote for Vermont as a really super place. And if you live there - please invite me and Herself back for a super stay. You know you’d like me to be with you.

Just a thought.

As G.B.Shaw said - ‘A life spent making mistakes is not only more honourable but more useful than a life spent doing nothing’.

So don’t blame me.

Dad

A story for you

Filed under: — Dad @ 8:30 pm

Dear All –

AT LAST – for the first time I’ve found a pic of the Army truck I drove around Knightsbridge (in London, you know) in the pouring rain to get my driving licence.

The story is – I had been driving BIG TRUCKS around the village (Redbourn, Herts) where we lived because Dad’s factory in London had been flattened by Hitler and he had found this one. He had done a deal with the local policeman to allow me to take them to the garage for petrol and back to the works. If I was ever caught on a road other than the agreed route I would be done. And so it was. And I moved them around the works and backed them into a narrow loading dock – because no-one said it was difficult. Slip, slap, slop.

So I was doing a course at City & Guilds (a.k.a. a decent Uni) and joined the TA (as in Territorial Army for the Colonials amongst us. Sort of like the National Guard in the USA) and they said they would teach us to drive. So I drove. And the Instructor said – ‘How did you do that?’ So I told him I’d been driving Big Trucks since my legs reached the pedals.

So came a Wednesday when it was ‘thinging’ down with rain, and the Instructor said – ‘Drive the Army Test Officer’. So I did. He was testing motor-bike riders and chasing them around Knightsbridge in the rain was a bit of a challenge. But I did.

NOTE: The truck has a canvas roof over the drivers’ place. There are two small glass plates in front – not a complete window. I was wearing my glasses which tend to get very smeary if rain blows in on them at 30 mph – or rather more to keep up with the bikes. Wozzat?

We got back to the Depot and the Examiner signed off sundry forms. When he had finished, I asked if he would sign off a form for me because I had no licence. He was surprised. He said I drove like a polished professional – and then he signed my form. Which is how I came to have a driving licence.

You couldn’t make it up.

Dad – or whoever you think I am

The pic didn’t come out. But you get the idea. I’m sorry about the pic.

5/7/2006

A good day, really

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:10 pm

Sunny and hot, mostly, today. Dorset weather. Aaaah.

Watched the F1 race - and the red cars did far too well. B-o-r-i-n-g. Had a scrumptious lunch of roast orgasmic pork / new pots / broad beans then melon and banana. Urp. And herself and I having been awake since 2.30 in the middle of the night - then went to bed and snored somewhat, doubtless. Now up and at it again. Herself is fettling teeny-tiny stuff. I’m hunched over the computer.

Following a response to a recent blog of mine I offered a delightful lady in the US of A (you remember - one of our many colonies) a made-to-measure coaching course for her son. She is SO NICE - so we have a cyber friendship which Herself and I think is great!! That adds to Julianna - bless her. We exchanged lovely mails and I wrote / sent the first bit today. That was fun! I look forward to seeing how this unfolds. Given that British English and American English are somewhat different, I expect some fun. ‘Don’t forget to use your rubber to erase an error’. That would cause either hysterics - or - well, hysterics. (For non-American-English speakers, an American ‘rubber’ in Eng. Eng. is a 6 letter word starting with c and ending with m. And you can blow it up like a balloon. It saves men from paying maintenance - if the CSA ever got its mind in gear. Oh well, never mind. And please DON’T set me off about the CSA) As G.B.Shaw said and Churchill quoted, ‘England and America are two countries separated by a common language’.

GBS also said - ‘You see things and you say ‘why?’ But I dream things that never were and I say ‘Why not.’ He’s so right. And I always thought I was potty. More on this topic in due course.

As I told you, my two utterly lovely sons paid us a State Visit. Oh, was that ever lovely. I love them both to bits (and their gorgeous sister). I’m just lucky (said he blushing somewhat and hiding face behind hand). Herself is not their Mum but she loves them too - and they are generously kind to / about her. But this bit is about flowers. Henry brought me a pot of deep red roses for St.George’s Day - and they are still blooming and lifting my heart. He’s an old softy, really. T’other one brought a sumptuous bouquet of flowers for Herself which is still going strong and looks smashing. Then there was the single malt whisky but we’re not talking about that.

Well, Gardening Julian arrives tomorrow to plant the stuff I bought. Which is not exactly what he suggested. Chin up, chum and take the used bank notes - no invoice needed.

Me, I’m back in the saddle at the Gym and intend to grit my teeth and grind away for an hour, three days a week. (See those lumps ripple). The weather having been lousy, since Jan 4th. I’ve been going there in track-suit trousis (had to buy a new pair) Cambridge Uni T-shirt (I’ve got 5 of them) and an old track-suit top. (Couldn’t find a non-logo one to match the new trousis). BUT NOW - no need for the tatty top. But I also felt that the trousis were too much. So as I laid awake after 2.30 I pondered. And pondered. Sundry male persons at the gym wear limp, floppy, striped, elasticated waisted horrible shorts. Yuch!!! What to wear? Decisions, decisions. PING!!! Rugby shorts.

For those limp-wristed males and charming but unaware women, REAL MEN’S Rugby Shorts are fascinating. They need to stand up to serious abuse during the game. Other men grab the ‘edges’ and put their shoulders to your bottom in the scrum. Pathetic, wimpy shorts would scream and fall down. Oh, death. But where could I find some? (Since I haven’t played Wing Forward - or whatever it’s now called - for Z years)

The glorious WEB - of course. Rugby shorts come in plain colours - none of this stripey stuff. Rugby shorts are made of serious materials, not girl’s stuff. Rugby shorts have a tie at the waist to stop somebody pulling them down. Rugby shorts have a slight curve in the side to give REAL MEN something to hang on to. Rugby shorts are the business. Oh, and they have two pockets. So I’ve bought a pair. The wimps in the gym wearing these soft, fluttering, pathetic knickers can see how a REAL MAN in Rugby Shorts and a Cambridge Uni T shirt - puffs and pants a lot and is glad to go home later. Well, why not?

The trouble is that I’m enjoying this blog and don’t want to stop. But I have to.

Three o’clock in the morning is a terrible time. We all know about the three o/c moment. It’s the pits for what we think. I have no way of changing that. But I offer you two ideas:

Re-visiting what you feel - in the middle of the night - are sins is OK. But there is ANOTHER SIDE to it.

Yes, but you were kind and gentle to others.
Yes, but you won’t do that again.
Yes, but many others are happy because of the way you helped them
Yes, because the small thing you did lifted someone’s heart
Yes, because you made them laugh
Yes, because you behave the way you believe in

You see, it’s simple.

My love to you all - especially the colonials stuck out there. Hey - I’m with you!!!!

(Pleeze send insults privately)

A good day, really

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:09 pm

Sunny and hot, mostly, today. Dorset weather. Aaaah.

Watched the F1 race - and the red cars did far too well. B-o-r-i-n-g. Had a scrumptious lunch of roast orgasmic pork / new pots / broad beans then melon and banana. Urp. And herself and I having been awake since 2.30 in the middle of the night - then went to bed and snored somewhat, doubtless. Now up and at it again. Herself is fettling teeny-tiny stuff. I’m hunched over the computer.

Following a response to a recent blog of mine I offered a delightful lady in the US of A (you remember - one of our many colonies) a made-to-measure coaching course for her son. She is SO NICE - so we have a cyber friendship which Herself and I think is great!! That adds to Julianna - bless her. We exchanged lovely mails and I wrote / sent the first bit today. That was fun! I look forward to seeing how this unfolds. Given that British English and American English are somewhat different, I expect some fun. ‘Don’t forget to use your rubber to erase an error’. That would cause either hysterics - or - well, hysterics. (For non-American-English speakers, an American ‘rubber’ in Eng. Eng. is a 6 letter word starting with c and ending with m. And you can blow it up like a balloon. It saves men from paying maintenance - if the CSA ever got its mind in gear. Oh well, never mind. And please DON’T set me off about the CSA) As G.B.Shaw said and Churchill quoted, ‘England and America are two countries separated by a common language’.

GBS also said - ‘You see things and you say ‘why?’ But I dream things that never were and I say ‘Why not.’ He’s so right. And I always thought I was potty. More on this topic in due course.

As I told you, my two utterly lovely sons paid us a State Visit. Oh, was that ever lovely. I love them both to bits (and their gorgeous sister). I’m just lucky (said he blushing somewhat and hiding face behind hand). Herself is not their Mum but she loves them too - and they are generously kind to / about her. But this bit is about flowers. Henry brought me a pot of deep red roses for St.George’s Day - and they are still blooming and lifting my heart. He’s an old softy, really. T’other one brought a sumptuous bouquet of flowers for Herself which is still going strong and looks smashing. Then there was the single malt whisky but we’re not talking about that.

Well, Gardening Julian arrives tomorrow to plant the stuff I bought. Which is not exactly what he suggested. Chin up, chum and take the used bank notes - no invoice needed.

Me, I’m back in the saddle at the Gym and intend to grit my teeth and grind away for an hour, three days a week. (See those lumps ripple). The weather having been lousy, since Jan 4th. I’ve been going there in track-suit trousis (had to buy a new pair) Cambridge Uni T-shirt (I’ve got 5 of them) and an old track-suit top. (Couldn’t find a non-logo one to match the new trousis). BUT NOW - no need for the tatty top. But I also felt that the trousis were too much. So as I laid awake after 2.30 I pondered. And pondered. Sundry male persons at the gym wear limp, floppy, striped, elasticated waisted horrible shorts. Yuch!!! What to wear? Decisions, decisions. PING!!! Rugby shorts.

For those limp-wristed males and charming but unaware women, REAL MEN’S Rugby Shorts are fascinating. They need to stand up to serious abuse during the game. Other men grab the ‘edges’ and put their shoulders to your bottom in the scrum. Pathetic, wimpy shorts would scream and fall down. Oh, death. But where could I find some? (Since I haven’t played Wing Forward - or whatever it’s now called - for Z years)

The glorious WEB - of course. Rugby shorts come in plain colours - none of this stripey stuff. Rugby shorts are made of serious materials, not girl’s stuff. Rugby shorts have a tie at the waist to stop somebody pulling them down. Rugby shorts have a slight curve in the side to give REAL MEN something to hang on to. Rugby shorts are the business. Oh, and they have two pockets. So I’ve bought a pair. The wimps in the gym wearing these soft, fluttering, pathetic knickers can see how a REAL MAN in Rugby Shorts and a Cambridge Uni T shirt - puffs and pants a lot and is glad to go home later. Well, why not?

The trouble is that I’m enjoying this blog and don’t want to stop. But I have to.

Three o’clock in the morning is a terrible time. We all know about the three o/c moment. It’s the pits for what we think. I have no way of changing that. But I offer you two ideas:

Re-visiting what you feel - in the middle of the night - are sins is OK. But there is ANOTHER SIDE to it.

Yes, but you were kind and gentle to others.
Yes, but you won’t do that again.
Yes, but many others are happy because of the way you helped them
Yes, because the small thing you did lifted someone’s heart
Yes, because you made them laugh
Yes, because you behave the way you believe in

You see, it’s simple.

My love to you all - especially the colonials stuck out there. Hey - I’m with you!!!!

(Pleeze send insults privately)

5/3/2006

What a super day

Filed under: — Dad @ 9:09 pm

Late (for me) but I just wanted to tell you.

Herself got a bunch of parcels from Thailand with beautiful mini-pots which no-one else sells to the dolls house market. She’s over the moon. So that’s good.

Me, I’ve had nothing but good contacts today. Nice, decent people. Warm, honest. Super.

The first Estate Agent I ever believed in.

Good old Pete - and his Boss when we went to collect the plants he’d put aside for us. I saw a planted bowl kind of thing and said ‘I like that. Can I buy it?’ ‘It’s a display piece - I’ll ask the Boss’ He did. And she said - sure. How much? Just the price of the bowl. Have the plants for free. Yup. That was good.

The gardener who will come and plant the plants I bought. He’s really happy about that. And we talked about his 2 yr old daughter.

Three lovely e-mails saying v. nice things about me. Blush an’ that.

And more. Somewhere out there are decent people. Hard to find amongst the dross - but so well worth cherishing. Support your local decent people. Oh, and me.

So what am I thinking tonite? Why do we complain much faster than we compliment? ‘Thank you’ has so much power and brings so much pleasure. Go on, embrace the ‘thank you’ culture. It’ll make you happy, too. But ‘Have a nice day, now’ rings like a cracked bell. Be genuine - or don’t bother.

Love to you - Dad

5/1/2006

This is getting serious

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:36 am

My thanks to lordh and Jenny for their concern. So that’s three of us, then. Meanwhile our Country is sleepwalking to oblivion. (Who was it said that? I can’t remember)

I have no honest basis for saying this, because I have not personally read the BNP’s manifesto. But it seems that many of their propositions are eminently rational. One self-evident proposition (from the name) is that they believe in Britain (except that bliar has destroyed both Great Britain and the UK. There are NI, Scotland, Wales and - um - 9 other regions. No England. When Prescot gets out of (someone’s) bed for long enough - that’s what we are going to get). We could get it back together again. Perhaps. But NO-ONE ELSE IS TRYING. And THAT’s the point.

I would have a big problem voting for the BNP - for the various reasons offered. BUT - when there’s no-one else, how can you say ‘I disagree with YOU ALL’? I cannot imagine that the BNP or any such party would get anywhere in big enough numbers to take over. So they’re not a threat. What IS a threat is that people are NOT LISTENING. Saying the BNP are Nazis may be reasonable (but I don’t know) but they ARE standing up for things that no other ‘decent’ party wants to talk about. So my country (as it was) is being trashed by Labour (in a big way) the Cons (not standing up for what Cons should stand for) and the Lib-Dems. (Who they?) So please stop telling me how horrid the BNP is (and you may well be right) and start telling me who the Hell else gives a damn?

This is a highly emotive topic and may make people v. cross. BUT ignoring it or villifying the BNP simply doesn’t answer the question.

I don’t want the BNP in power any more than you do. BUT if a serious chunk of people voted for it - would THAT make the serial dick-heads listen - if only out of fear?

Some damned thing must change before my Country is finally flushed down the pan - and it’s two-thirds of the way there already. Perhaps a bunch of enraged football hooligans waving English flags and voting BNP might save us. Being prissy about it won’t.

Harrumph - Dad

4/30/2006

lordh is worried

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:55 pm

Thanks for your comment lh. My family and I lived through the Nazi bit - and suffered / lost a great deal as a result. Others suffered terminally. I have no time for Nazis.

BUT - no-one is LISTENING to many people (which includes me) who are seriously unhappy about the damage being done to our country and our way of life. In many ways.

STUPID politicians and so-called media people going ‘Blah-blah-blah down with the BNP’ completely miss the point. Half a loaf is better than no bread. If none of the ‘big’ parties are listening to me, and so many others, with what choice am I faced? Abstain? Well that’s a waste. Vote for a mainstream party that fails to recognise my problems? Well that’s stupid. So vote for the least-worst. Called BNP or Burn-the-house-of-parliament-down party or whatever. I want to be HEARD. And no bastard is listening to me - or all the others.

If you’ve got a better suggestion - tell me. I don'’t want bloody Nazis - but I don’t want my Country / Nation demolished. And that’s what’s happening. Go on - tell me who the (xxxx) is trying to save my Country?

Yours in a sense of enquiry -

Dad

For Tammy (and you)

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:03 pm

Hi Tammy - Many thanks for your question.

Answer 1 - ‘The new negotiating edge’ by Gavin Kennedy. But this was published in 1998 and I have no idea about subsequent books - ‘cause I write my own stuff.

Answer 2 - I have a big professional library of about 1,000 books with about 15 Negotiation books in it. But they are all ‘heavy duty’ stuff and not written for an 18 yr old or their needs. Now I’m also a qualified Mediator and mediation skills are being taught in some schools here so that pupils can mediate between warring youngsters to resolve arguments / problems.

I have a proposition. If you send me a one line e-mail to windsor@power-base.co.uk so I’ve got your private address I’ll send you a series of e-mails making up a short course in negotiation skills / mediation principles that I hope will help and are more suitable for your son. Not just text - pics too!!! (Well, clip-art) This goes for anyone else with the same interest.

My reward? Your approbation. A kindly light in Heaven. Real pleasure for me because I’d love to help. Oh, and the occasional envelope of used bank notes in no particular number order. Or Malt Whisky.

Hope this would help you and him - very glad to be of service.

Cheers -

Dad

Too, too quiet

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:40 am

Well it’s Sunday, it’s overcast and it’s cold. So soddit (a management term) I turned the heating on. Playing Brendan Croker now having played the Eddie Calvert dear Henry brought me when he visited.

I’ve finished the handouts for the Coaching Session I’m doing on Tuesday about Negotiation. This is a life-skill and should be taught in school. Another frustration. Herself has a stall at a Dolls House Fair in Southampton. Oh I hope she has a good day. She is so good at it all. Back home at 6 o/c. Can’t wait.

So why, I wondered, is there ANOTHER Bank Holiday when we just had Easter? Apparently it is to appease Socialist Workers. Now there’s an oxymoron if ever there was one. No socialist ever knew how to work. Don’t believe me? This evil train wreck known as our government (no cap letters deserved) just LURV the money and the perks. Can’t do the work. Some of them are simply too thick and stupid - others are clearly mildly capable mentally (but only mildly) but have no common sense.

Of all the things to ponder, the most difficult is the mental state of the woman who allowed Prescot to bed her. Whilst I believe that we all have values - who in their right mind would couple with Prescot? M or F. He can’t speak the Queen’s English and punches people - quite apart from his personal socialist views to which he is entitled. But he’s messing with my country - something to which I do not see him entitled. We’ll just talk Councillors and Voters Rights here. Trashed by a bloated and unpleasant peasant. That poor woman. Just think about it (but only for a moment)

Could my life get worse? Yup. Brown could become the PM.

If you know who the Hell is voting for this lot - please, please would you influence them to think (assuming they can). Personally I don’t care who the Hell else they vote for. Anyone else will be better.

Which, of course, brings us to the BNP. SOME of their ideas are naff. BUT some of their ideas make sense. Trying to shout them down is stupid. Listening to their message and recognising that many people have political problems today which the ‘clean’ parties don’t address would be sensible.

What’s Dad’s thought today? Around half of the message you send to people comes from how you look. What message are you sending?

Cheers all - Dad

4/25/2006

Brrh!

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:55 am

It’s cold, it’s raining spasmodically and I’ve got the hump. I’ve refused to go to the gym. So I’m indulging in displacement activity instead of doing the chores I’ve put off. But I’m playing Eva Cassidy - so that’s good.

Herself is beavering away hoping to complete preparations / manuacture for the Dolls House Fair on Sunday. She’s also getting geared up for the celebration of her Mum’s 80th. shortly. Dad is v. ill and so everything’s crossed about that but there’ll be a big turnout on the day. Swish disposable plates / glasses etc bought from Makro and a sort of square tent (gazebo?) bought. Our rather nifty picnic box unearthed which is electric powered and either cools stuff or keeps stuff hot depending which socket you plug the power into. V. clever it is - and it can work off the car too which is v. handy. Phew!

Oh, and I’ve phoned ANOTHER plumber. Our Council puts round a leaflet called Checktrade which lists tradespeople who have been vouched for by locals as doing a good job and not ripping you off. When they come to do a job they give you a card to fill in and return to the Council to say if they did a square job. A bit like the e-bay system of stars and feedback ratings.

Well, a while ago I had the inevitable problem of a few dripping taps. New washers needed. Also the kitchen sink mixer tap was knackered (that’s an obscure engineering term). Well although I’ve changed many a washer in my time, I couldn’t be doing with this stuff because I took a look at one as a sample and tap-teknolodgy has moved on since my day. (I can’t fettle my car any longer either. It’s all a sealed electronic mystery. If you can’t do it with a hammer and a spanner it’s out of my reach). But the thing about changing tap washers is that you don’t just change one or two. If it needs doing - you change EVERY tap washer in the place. Otherwise, if you only change the dud ones - there will be other dud ones along shortly. Not worth the trouble.

So I get Plumber No.1 in. He comes mob-handed with apprentice in tow. ‘Change all washers / fix shower / replace kitchen mixer tap. Take you about 3 hours’. 5 hours later, I ask if all done. ‘Yus, Gov’ ‘Oh good. How much less for cash / no invoice needed?’ ‘!!’ (Must protect names and etc) ‘I’ll just have a look around’ ‘Ah, well -’ Ah, well he couldn’t get the top off THAT tap; he couldn’t fix THAT stop-cock; the kitchen mixer-tap was an obscure mystery; the shower tap was an even deeper mystery. And stopping the shower hose leaking required re-building the shower wall. Oh goody-goody. Pull old stunt about taking out wallet and saying ‘That’s all the money I’ve got’ (If you guess well enough and prepare wallet first it works every time) and they leave.

Then there’s plumber No.2. By then I’ve found that certain ‘fixed’ taps don’t work that well and one won’t work at all. The short story on that is that there is a spare washer stuck in the tap-outlet and the tap won’t work anyway. He fixes the ‘anyway’ and I get the spare washer out of the tap myself. Kitchen tap replaced. Can’t do the stop-cock.

Now? Both taps in one bathroom basin won’t work. Stop-cock still duff. Will solve another tap problem myself.

When I was a lad, ‘tradesmen’ as they were called - as a mark of respect in the community - knew what to do, did it, got paid and kept every customer they ever worked for. Now? The usefless, hopeless, skiving, miserable bastards (another engineering term) outnumber the few remaining good guys - and, increasingly, women. Though they’re not perfect, either.

Ignoring, for now (no future respite, dear readers) problems with so-called ‘gardeners’ I’m re-planting my front garden. So I need a whole bunch of plants and I don’t want the same-old that you can see anywhere. I put a list together and send it to three big local suppliers. Two operate as an unthinking / unfeeling machine for taking money from you. Then there’s the third one. Every time I’ve been there, whoever I’ve spoken to has been kind, pleasant, knowledgeable, helpful. You name it.

So I send them my list and I get Pete on the phone. He’s keen, helpful and great. I met him yesterday to talk about what I should buy / how much etc. He’s mid-thirties I guess, dressed for the job, shaven head, one diamond earing, London accent. And the nicest guy you could find. We got on like a house on fire. He couldn’t have been nicer or more interested in what I was trying to do with a small patch of earth. He’s going to add my more unusual plants to his orders this week and give me a deal. He was so nice. Now that’s just the kind of person we all need in our currently shattered and sick society. More Pete’s and fewer bliars.

Reading that over, I think that’s a rant. But it’s a rant on behalf of us all. There ARE Pete’s out there. Let’s find them and nurture them. I’m heart-sick at the way my country is descending into crap. Somehow we’ve got to stop it. Support your local Pete!!

Yes well that will mean nothing to the Colonials reading this blog and for whom we remain responsible. (Chin up! You’re not doing too badly - you just need more help from your Motherland).

Today’s thought? Think long term, not short term. Today’s failure doesn’t mean total failure. Merely a short term hiccup. Whether you are working on a change for yourself or a change for your community / government / whatever - keep going. Keep punching. The question is can you outlast the ‘enemy’ - whether that is personal to you or a wider issue. You can do that, you know.

My love to you all - Dad

4/23/2006

Yowzah!

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:46 pm

I don’t know. You don’t see your sons for years and then two come along together. (For Colonials - that is a joke-line about London Buses. Oh, never mind)

Phone call yesterday - ‘Oh Dad - -’ So today I have two lovely sons in my lap (so to speak) Re-jig Plan A because it is the F1 Italian Grand Prix so we must record that and watch it later. The Towers is not up to spec so there must be tidying and Hoovering and such. Lunch is easy - orgasmic meat, steamed org. veg and a gorgeous fruit salad with cheeses if you want. I said to Herself that would do fine.

So Henry and his brother appear in brother’s superb work van (cor) and delight our day. Superb single malt whisky for me, flowers and etc for Herself and a St.George’s pot of lovely red rose plants for me.

Oh, we’ve had such a lovely time. Henry has some photos so you may have to suffer them on his blog. But I love them both so much and having them here was wonderful.

I just wanted to share that with you.

Dad - REALLY!!

4/7/2006

Thanks, Henry

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:12 pm

A gentle evening time and Don Williams playing quietly.

Well I hope you all had a Happy Easter. Herself was busy making teeny-tiny garden stuff for an up-coming Fair and I was - well - here too. But I had a problem.

For some reason the Word Press set up I use for this blog had saved a draft of my last blog. So I tried to get rid of it. Well, I must have pushed the wrong whatever because all of a sudden it sulked and demanded ‘Log In’. Well that was new. Doesn’t do that normally. Log in name? Thinks. PING! it must be Dad. Then Password? How would I know? So it said Forgotten password? Yup. Click on the button. PING! By return a mail from no known address saying Log in is Dad (told you), password is something like 123gh45. Oh good. Except it won’t work. Three different times, three different passwords. Nada. So I gave up and mailed Henry who, very sensibly, was a-boating and being happy with Trouty. But Bless him, he rescued me today so HERE I AM AGAIN!! And I promise not to mess with it ever again.

I’m an old mechanical engineer. In my kind of engineering a piece of kit is GUARANTEED to do EXACTLY the same thing every time when you push the same buttons. But computers? Huh? Mine regularly sulks when I turn it on and WON’T DO IT. So I have to turn it off, and on again, and then it works. What the Hell is all that about? And why has this kind of inconsistency been accepted for all these years? If I bought a machine / car / plane and SOMETIMES when I started it and engaged first gear it shot backwards and turned a circle I’d have sent it back so fast it would have had tears in its eyes. But we accept that computers have minds of their own and we can’t say ‘not to spec’. Weird.

The Garden Project has been taking up some time. If you haven’t tried it I commend to you the RHS (Royal Horticultural Society) Web site for finding plants that will match certain criteria. Magic. So now we have the new planting list for the front garden. Wow! (God alone knows what it will all cost). But you’ve spotted the flaw, haven’t you? I have to get the plants here first. We have various Plant Nurseries around here and three of them are really v. good. So having compiled a Plant List with quantities and Latin names and the whole nine yards, I phone each one up and say ‘Want plants. Pls. advise e-mail address so you can tell me if you have them / how much’. Ah, well. REAL Nurseries are plant-centered not customer-centered. Let’s not do it the way that’s easy for me. So I’m still waiting for them to get around to reading the faxes I had to send and answering me. I did ask for info today -but hey, who am I?

Well that’s about it for now. But what am I pondering today? The fact that prejudice makes people deaf.

Lots of fuss in the UK about the BNP - a.k.a. the British National Party. (OK, those of you in the Colonies, think about parallels in your own new territories) It stands up for the kind of things its name suggests. But recent surveys suggest 1 in 5 people Nationwide and 1 in 4 in London might vote for them in the forthcoming Local Elections. Journalists and spokes-people from other parties use demeaning language about the BNP and decry their objectives. Dear me, they are so hot under their several collars. So far they are so busy being nasty about the BNP they are not saying ‘ Hang about - WHY are so many ordinary people even giving this lot the time of day?’ Answer - because there are sundry problems simply not being addressed by any of the less extreme parties. And ‘extreme’ is a joke because whilst politicians make a noise about us living in a democracy - we actually live in a totalitarian state. Prezident Bliar (sic) rules without bothering with Parliament and anyway, only about 25% of our population voted for his totally destructive and vindictive party. What democracy?

But back to my point. We need to use empathy, not sympathy. Understanding WHY someone holds the point of view that they do without necessarily agreeing with it. If we can’t understand where the pain is coming from - we can’t try to take it away. Braying in the media that the BNP are horrible misses the question. And the need. If no one listens - we wind up with a BNP Solution. And we all know who used that word before.

It’s great to be back. Many thanks, Henry - and never forget how much I love you. And my love to you all, as well. Dad

Good and Bad

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:12 pm

Evening time now. Quiet music playing, sleep impending.

Firstly many thanks for kind comments. They helped even more than you might think.

Next, a better day today. Herself is off tomorrow to stay with her sister and have a Stand at a Dolls House Fair. We’ve been working together on it and I think it will look great. All I can do is hope for her. I do so want it to be a success. She works so hard and really deserves it.

I’m going through a period of ditching stuff. Files. Problems. Irritations. I’ve also got a Coaching job to do on Tuesday and have yet to think what I’ll do - and also have to create the materials. Time enough over the weekend.

I wonder if one re-thinks one’s life every 10 years? If not, perhaps one should? I’m facing the great tumbling dice in the sky - my Mother died shortly before she was 100. So have I 1 year to go or ’some’? The Great Croupier Above is the only one that knows. Project Management with such an unknown completion date is a bit of a problem. I had a nice chat with a ‘Financial Advisor’ (young enough to be a grandson - not a son) this morning. Much food for thought. He wondered if I would be splashing out on ‘fun’. Slow horses and fast women? I asked. He is too young to have heard the term. I enjoy my vices - which do not include either of the above - (I’m in enough trouble with the vices to which I am addicted) but I was clearly sadly boring for him.

Tonight’s thoughts? Take pleasure in small things. A flower. A delicious meal. A moment shared with a loved one. As these moments fly past, retain a small element of pleasure. The moments accumulate and serve to offset the occasional blistering blast of pain from which we all suffer.

Sleep well and in go in peace. Dad

4/6/2006

Yes, well

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:56 pm

A lovely sunny day here. Playing serious classical music - because I am next door to tears for some reason.

BUT what a lovely thing. I can’t ‘do’ the garden any more so I looked at the local paper and phoned ‘Julian’. Come and re-create the front garden which is looking awful. He did and we agreed terms. Chatting about our lives - he worked for my company! Not just that but he won the Best Sales Award 3 moths in a row. Which meant that his name is on the Windsor Cup. Which it is - because the W Cup is in my office. I took it out to him and we bonded. It’s a very small world. And he’s doing a v. good job.

Part of the problem is that I can’t see myself as ‘old’. But, in some people’s eyes, I am. My head is not where my body is. I’ve disappeared off the screen. Except in my head.

I’m having a really bad day.

Dad’s thoughts today?

We all live with a belt set tight around our aspirations. No, I can’t do that! WRONG. Burst through the belt that chokes off your aspirations - you can do more. You can do better. You can fly. Believe me.

My love to you all - your Dad

4/3/2006

’tis like this -

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:20 pm

Some things in one’s life are very private. There are some things that one feels outsiders should not know about. NOT that one is ashamed - oh no. Just afeared that others will fail to understand and - even - scoff at if they knew about them. So I’m having a bravery moment.

Some years ago Herself and I were in Austria for Christmas and the New Year. Aaah! The snow. The Christmas Fairs. The music. The whole nine yards. Magic.

Came Christmas Morn. ‘Happy Christmas, you!’ ‘And you!’ Because we are not super-stars with private planes we had small luggage and so could only carry small Christmas Presents for each other. Something serious and something for fun. A small bear. With a hat. And a charming face. Happy to be released from his cramped quarters in my suitcase. An instant hit. ‘What’s his name?’ Quick thinking here. ‘Bartholomew of course’. ‘Oh, yes, of course’.

Since then B.Bear has been a central fixture. He has his own Passport and Officials smile when we present it - and they stamp it as well. When we go to France he sits in the car windscreen holding the Parking Ticket and we return from the Brasserie watching passers-by looking and smiling at the Bear with the sunglasses and the straw hat holding the ticket. Oh yes, B.Bear has his own luggage, a range of hats (he likes hats) and a range of clothes with which to travel.

It gets worse. We went to Paris (as one does). Somehow Bartholomew acquired a small white and brown dog. Oh, consternation. What kind of dog was it? A Gaulloise. Of course. His name? George. George is a real pain. He assures us that he is a City Dog and despises Country Dogs who chase rabbits and get all muddy. Ugh! He also has no time for anything / anybody / any animal that is not French. But when we sit in a cafe George sits on the table with Bartholomew - and they chat about the scene and no-one is at all surprised.

Of course Bartholomew and George talk to us - we help them a little. They lighten our days and we adore them.

We’ve never had so much fun.

I’m having a bad day today. So I’m leaning on my friends to help me. Just think. Perhaps the person you are talking to is having a bad day - but you won’t know. They see you as a stranger and won’t tell you how bad their day is. So help them. Whether or not other people reach out to you - they need a lift from you. So help them. You don’t need the small print to help with the large print.

My love to you all - Dad

4/2/2006

Questions, questions

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:02 pm

My beloved Father coached me that there were three topics one NEVER discussed in a barber’s shop (or amongst people about whose views you were unaware) namely politics, religion and sex (NOT gender). Over recent years I have never known so many people finding reasons to talk about politics - even in my barber’s shop. Too few people are voting yet more people than ever are clearly troubled about the political situation. I’m not wise enough to foresee where this leads - since we are not a riotous nation like the frogs who learn about throwing cobbles / bricks and burning other people’s cars at their mother’s knee. But there’s a big something wrong somewhere. Moving right along - -

Mixed sunshine and showers. Up at 4 this morning to watch the F1 at Melbourne. Did you see it? Lots of action and as for poor Jenson Button bursting into flames within sight of the finishing line - gutted or what?

So now we are completely disorientated as to time. But Herself is off to another Dolls House Fair next weekend with her teeny-tiny gardens and has been busy making stuff to sell whilst watching F1. Multi-tasking woman. Hearth rug taken over by lay-out for Stand so we can get it right. If only I knew how to put a photo on this blog I’d love to show you what she does. I’m so proud of her.

So where’s this stuff about men wearing a suit - but no tie - going? Not dressing properly shows disrespect to other people/ the occasion. In some circumstances not wearing a tie is OK - but NOT whilst wearing a suit. brown refusing to wear formal clothes to attend the highest profile City Banquet is an insult. Where are we going? Surely we should be lifting standards?

Because I once lived near Verulamium (St.Albans to you) I studied Roman history. The unresolved question was why did the Roman Empire collapse? And leave Italy a wreck. Why did the quite sophisticated Chinese Nation recede and is only now struggling to re-emerge? So why is our Nation imploding? We are closing down sundry embassies / consulates around the world. Is there some kind of pendulum-swing within a Nation that takes hundreds of years to swing? How can I understand this stuff?

The good news is that Julian arrives on Wednesday to start his assault on the garden. I’ve let it go because I wasn’t well but I want it brought back up to a decent standard. Seems a nice bloke - keep your fingers crossed for me.

Head down now - zzzz - 4 am was a long time ago.

The middle of the night is an awful time for most of us. Guilt; horrors; sins of omission and commission invade the mind.

What’s passed is past. Look forwards. Think forwards. Imagine tomorrow. We can’t revisit and change yesterday whether we were victim or cause. We all suffer backward-looking guilt and pain. We were wrong. But tomorrow we can be more right.

Fond love to you all - Dad

3/31/2006

A different day today

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:01 pm

Overcast today with occasional drizzle. Playing a mix of music. BUT have been to the gym for the first time following the weird hy-temp week. My ‘Personal Trainer’ (be in awe, OK?) is on holiday so I could strut my stuff alone, work the machinery and pause long enough to calmly survey the other poor souls labouring away.

Wore the elegant grey T-shirt with the golden St.Catharine’s Cambs logo embroidered on it. This is a new world for me and I am trying to understand the subtle messages. Firstly there are different ‘tribes’. There’s the ‘muscle-bound mob’. Heave on the weights; pile on the muscle; swagger; get tattooed (if that’s how one spells it); sweat (this is VERY IMPORTANT). Esp. the women. Ugh. Then there’s the ‘No-brainer’. Take to a machine and dementedly, mindlessly push, step, lift - whatever. Eyes unfocused, shoulders sweating, towel and obligitary drink-bottle to hand. For ages. There is also the ‘last gasp’ brigade. ‘If I don’t do this - huff, puff - I’ll die’ Grim. Bleak. Sweaty. Depressed. The men come as singletons.The women tend to come in pairs. The men wear kit that was cheap when they bought it and has been washed to a limp nadir. The women wear kit that is fresh - but not new. But there surely ain’t no dishy birds in the gym. But there are one or two who look like really nice people I’d love to talk to - but one mustn’t. We all exist in our private bubbles. No human contact. Sad or what? This bunch of people - and we don’t talk to each other. We turn our eyes away and pretend the other person doesn’t exist. Cripes.

Well my comments about our Empire lit the blue touch-paper alright. Thank you for commenting. Open debate is important. How can humankind learn so little? But meanwhile I can observe a civilisation sleepwalking into oblivion. Which one? Ours.

Today is not the day for me to expand on that. But, personally, apart from the gym stuff I’ve had a good day and coped with some BIG issues. That’s it - over and done with. Perhaps I’ll stop waking up at 3 in the morning for a while.

My last thought is somewhat threadbare. Treat others as you would like others to treat you. Why does this seem to be impossible? I’ve been treated really badly by a few people this week. It’s enough to make one feel cynical.

My love to you all - Dad

3/30/2006

Well, now

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:51 pm

Well the early responses to my blog surely raised my eyebrows so here’s my early response.

Firstly, dearest Trouty my love to you - as always. Note: Keep this secret from Henry or patricide might result. And yes, I guess it must be genetic. (Gloom, gloom). Oh, but! There’s some good genetic stuff too, isn’t there??? Take care, love. [Note to foreigners: I was born in Liverpool and the term ‘love’ is a widely used term of gentle affection and friendliness not an expression of unrequited lust]

Well, Omally my friend, music is a curiously powerful medium. It certainly has the power to move me to tears and I so miss my past when I sang and played and really threw my heart into the total beauty of the medium. If C & W doesn’t do it for you, I’m sure something else must. As to the Goon Show, no I have no recorded medium of any of it. But when I was in a Sanatorium in the 1960’s and the Goon Show was real, for a time with my room mate I was responsible for the Hospital Radio and we used to subject those bedridden headphone wearers to selected snippets of the Goons. It never occurred to me that they might suffer mentally thereafter for the rest of their lives!! I suppose I have, though. Insightful of you to think of it.

Which leaves me with Stu and lordhutton. Your perceptions are quite wrong, you know. Except that clearly you don’t know so it was stupid of me to say that. You were not alive then and have no first hand knowledge of how things were. What was the source of your inaccurate belief that British people behaved in the way that your comments suggest? You perception is so far away from reality. But MY question is who has poisoned your minds? I know why - but who? Please tell me so that I can disabuse you of a horridly incorrect understanding of history.

Sorry about that, folks. But someone has to attempt to put right perverted views which have been quite reasonably accepted by very nice people.

Have I another Dad idea? One way and another I have had a really lousy day. I won’t bore you with the detail. But from time to time we all have a really bad day. So - Step 1 - Recognise that you are having a rotten day. Step 2 - Take time out to take control of your emotions. Tune out for a bit. Step 3 - Realise that this is a now thing not a forever thing. Step 4 - Choose a positive thing you can do next or do tomorrow. Because you can survive a really bad time and come out smiling.

If I don’t, Herself will give me a right telling off. Go in peace - Dad

3/25/2006

Now where was I?

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:35 pm

Blustery day today but generally OK. Playing C & W and trying to cheer up. Have a heap of stuff to do having missed a week (see below) but have no wish to get on with it. In short, I’ve got the hump!

Last week was fun. Herself took the week off to watch the Commonwealth Games. She adores all sorts of sport and has also been keeping on about cricket in India. I must be a sore trial to her. Once you’ve seen one lot of people run round the track / throw the object / hurl themselves into a sandpit / smash the bar off the poles - you seen it. Why see it again? Ditto playing rounders-for-grown-ups but with a bigger flat bat. And if you have to wear armour to play it, then there’s something fundamentally wrong. I don’t mind physical violence as in rugby which I used to play, but cricket uses a projectile which is cheating.

Which leads me to wonder why people are so moronic and complain about / apologise for the British Empire? When we managed sundry territories we did it with a very light rein. We brought the rule of law. We built schools and hospitals. We built roads and railways. We put down mad idiots who sought to abuse / kill the real, decent people in the territories for which we were responsible. We hung the trouble-makers. So that’s all good.

Now see what thieving, brutal, bloody chaos has succeded our principled management. I have no idea why our so-called government of the time abandoned our responsibilities to the nice, normal, ordinary people in so many places. We lost our will. Our decent and caring nation bought into the perverted revisionism of a socialist few. Who lost? The people we had protected and supported at some cost in money and lives. Yeuch!! WE abandoned so many decent people who have been seriously abused ever since. Honestly, tell me one African State where the ordinary people have better lives now than they had when we took care of them. Remind me of the thousands dead, mutilated, dispossessed, left uneducated and uncared for because we turned our back on them. Mugabe, anyone? Smith was right. Under British care Rhodesia would still be a wonderful place for both settlers and locally born.

Anyway, I spent last week with a temperature of 101 for 5 days, sundry aches, ‘orribly sweaty but no sign of a cold or flu. And I felt like rubbish. So what was all that about? That’s why I didn’t get much done. This week was the blood test. I HATE needles and have 3 or 4 tests a year but Norah is a wizard with a needle so - as I well know - it could be a great deal worse. But I have a problem. Books / tv / sundry sources talk about ‘needle tracks’ identifying people who take drugs. Norah (and everyone else I ever went to) zeroes in on my right arm above my elbow - and despite all the punctures I can’t see any ‘tracks’, whatever they are. Does ’stuff’ make ‘tracks’ going in but blood makes no tracks coming out? The things I don’t know.

Anyway it’s off to the Doc again next week to see what kind of peal he will ring over me in response to the blood test. Bet it’s bad news.

So you can see why I’m fed up. Never mind.

I want to rejuvenate our garden, front and back. Because I’ve been unable to keep it up (quiet at the back there!) it’s got away and declined. But I have to ‘get someone in’ because I can’t do it myself. First challenge - find someone at a price I can afford with whom I am in charity, as the phrase goes. And that’s another good story. I’ve spoken to a few people but have been looking at the problem through blinkers. The dam burst yesterday and I thought - ‘Of course! Rip that out - change that - forget that!!’

So many problems - personal or life related - are irresolvable because we keep looking at them through the same prism all the time. So instead of falling into good old Route One every time - break out. As the phrase has it ‘think outside the box’. Don’t know how to? Take charge of your own thinking and simply start from a different place. You can do this. Shake off the mental shackles. It’s amazing how different things look if you see them from there - not here.

Sorry if that’s not too clear - but try to see what I mean. Just chewing on it could help you. And my best wishes to you all, my special friends - Dad

3/15/2006

The Poem

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:35 pm

Remembered kindness

Looking back, through memory’s glass
Kindness, help, a supporting hand
Lifting me across life’s way
Smoothing rough pain
Restoring tranquillity

At every one of life’s stages
Kindness and understanding
Appeared, unannounced, for me
Sunlight through pain
Bitterly endured just then

From child to adult, came to pass
Bleak moments, bitter events, and
Challenges piercing each day
From which I gain
Strength and more ability

Prized names lost from my life’s pages
Hidden now, not withstanding
The role they played that helped me see
What I must gain
From pain endured, no matter when

Men and women, colleagues too,
Lifting my burden as and when
They could. With a smile.
To so many I owe my thanks
Lost, alas, in the mist of my memories

Yes it does scan. Alt. verses.

Dad

Joy!

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:30 pm

Poets have a huge problem. No-one wants to publish their work. So it’s self-publish or gloom.

YOWZAH!!!

I’ve had another poem accepted for publication in an Anthology due out in April.

YOWZAH!!!

I hope you understand my personal sensitivity that leads to my very low key blog about this matter.

YOWZAH!!!

Lost-for-words

3/14/2006

Oh the cost of it!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:30 pm

Cold today and overcast but without the wicked wind we had yesterday. Playing the pirate jazz CD I got - some really superb stuff on it. Have been feeling distincly Eyeore-ish of late and the jazz cheers me up. (If troubled by this reference pls. see Winnie-the-Pooh)

Delighted to read that because of a huge spike in wholesale gas prices yesterday an Amber Warning has gone out to heavy users and things might get tight. Laugh a minute. My gas / electric supplier has hiked prices twice this year already. And I received my Council Tax notice for 2006 / 2007. Surreal. Since I’m a poor old pensioner on a fixed income and interest rates are so low this financial rape and pillage is gettting way beyond a joke. This x’ing gov’t will crucify us all. The papers are full of rabid socialist politicians pressing everyone to save more for your pension/old age. BUT if you are stupid enough to do so, that same socialist mind-frame will take as much money off you as they can whilst the profligate non-savers get ‘means tested credits’. Hang on, I paid my taxes, NIC etc. - let’s have a level playing field here. I deserve a bung too.

Talking of Rikki my ‘personal trainer’ (pretentious or what?), this gym business is somewhat costly. I’ve been going there wearing an old, threadbare track-suit I’ve had for years and looking like a tramp. Well, Herself decided to tidy the kitchen now she’s not at work and on the notice board, beneath a receipt for logs dated Dec. 2003 found £30 in tokens for JJB Sports. (And, no, I don’t know where they came from, either). So off we went to make me respectable. What’s respectable about sweating? So here I sits in my new Nike kit which is v. comfortable. But it cost more than £30.

Saw the Doc last week and we had a good chat. I took in a big box of luxury chocs for the surgery staff who are kind, friendly, patient - and wonderful. I also created an ‘Official Certificate’ saying it was the best GP’s surgery in Britain and they were all super. And Doc was the best Doc I ever met. They were so pleased it was worth every moment. Doc asked if I could do another copy so he can hang it in his downstairs lavatory so friends fall about whilst - doing whatever they’re doing. He’s Irish and loves F1 and cars so we talked about his new £50,000 Porche and the prospects for the Bahrain F1. Fortunately he was up at Dublin Uni whereas I was up at Cambridge so he feels I have an edge. Silly man. Dublin is a fine Uni.

The serious news is a new blood test in 2 weeks from now and another meeting in 3 weeks when the result is in. I don’t know what he’s worrying about - but I’m going to be a bit tense for a while. He saved my life once - literally - so whatever he wants to do is OK by me.

That’s about it for now.

People are very complex and we all have a variety of pressures on us. But if you want to look at the absolute basics, most people roughly fit into one of three categories - Doers, Thinkers or Carers. Imagine one of each sitting at a table when you present them with a problem. The Doer starts - ‘Right, we need to do this - and that.’ The Thinker says ‘Has anyone a pad and pen? I need to figure this out.’ The Carer says ‘Anyone want a coffee?’ An effective Team needs some of all three. The balance depends on the kind of challenge faced by the Team.

The problems? The Doer rushes at ‘action’ without weighing up the choices. As Abraham Lincoln is reputed to have said, ‘If I wanted to chop down a cherry tree, I’d start by sharpening my axe.’ The Thinker never finishes and is always looking for the perfect solution. As the old saying goes - ‘Never let the perfect be the enemy of the good.’ A handy solution delivered in time beats a perfect solution that is too late. The Carer is invaluable but needs to be focussed on the outcomes needed - or we all sit there and drink coffee.

Just a thought. Go in peace, my friends. And thanks Julianna - keep me in the picture, OK?

Dad

3/10/2006

Now where was I?

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:21 pm

I’m indebted to Omally for his kind enquiry about my extended absence. Thanks v. much for your kind mail.

Well there’s been rather too much going on. So this is an abridged version of Dad’s recent history. Firstly what about Herself? Well, as you know her Dad is seriously ill and Mum is not well either. So she’s been worrying about that and popping over to Kent to see them. Mind you, that includes seeing her Sister and nipping over to France for a day shopping and returning with nice bottles and food we love but can’t get here without going to London (aarrgh!!) and paying a fortune. Why can’t one buy rillette here, for example? Weird.

Next, she’s somewhat tense, you might say, about her suspected brain tumour. Scan due in late April. Hmm.

Her teeny-tiny dolls house gardens are selling briskly and she loves making them. Her web site is doing OK and if you haven’t bought something from in-miniature.com I might come looking for you. Go on, even if you don’t buy - please look. I admire her tremendously. There was also a Craft Fair recently for which she had to make lots of stuff. That went well and people love her basket of free chocs for the kids. One each only!!

Following sundry discussions she quit her part-time job at the Solicitors. I used to teach management stuff - and the firm where she worked was a client of mine at one time. They clearly learned nothing. Was that my fault? I think not. BUT I want her to have her own financial independence and not feel beholden to me for ‘pocket money’. Now that’s not too easy.

As for me, my ‘Personal Trainer’ Rikki is sorting me out. I feel much better for that. I can’t afford him for much longer but the plan worked. Small problem - my Doc says ‘Lose weight or else’ my exercise regime has not changed my weight by even one pound over 4 months. I eat twice a day. Fresh fruit for breakfast and one dish only for supper. If you know what the xxxxxxx I’m supposed to do next, pls. advise.

Apart from other problems I had a wisdom tooth out yesterday and feel like rubbish today. It leaves a literally bloody great hole in my mouth. (More tincture, I hear you cry) What is The Tincture? Something my beloved Dad told me about. 50 / 50 brandy and port. V. good for the stomach and as a general tonic. Drink 3 and you fall down. I’m on my - - wozzit? Hmm? Well, some, anyway.

What a pathetic blog. Please forgive me - but thank you again, Omally, for your concern. You warmed my heart.

Dad

2/11/2006

Not a good day

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:16 pm

Bright but v. cold here today. Playing Brass Band music to soothe my soul.

When one door closes, another slams shut in your face. Herself had a weird ear problem and went to see the Doc. ‘Have this scrip’ he said. Then he said that there was a chance she might have a brain tumour and she must see a boffin and have a scan.

That’s put a distinct cramp on the weekend. What was I stupid enough to say in my last blog? Could this be a good year? Oh sxxt.

I have many vices but I never gamble. I would never take a 1 in 5 chance - but that’s what she faces. Please think of her in your prayers. It may well be nothing - but the wait to find out is going to be awful.

Dad

2/7/2006

Not my best day

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:54 pm

Mild and dull here today. Playing the ever dependable Chet Atkins to soothe me.

Firstly Mort’s Mom and Julianna very much in my thoughts - I hope you’re both OK.

Might 2006 be a good year? It’s about time I had one. Henry seems in outstanding form, his brother and sister likewise, and his Mum very chipper (and relieved) after the awful drama of her mastectomy. No further treatment indicated. Thank God. The whole thing - including the dead days of waiting for information must have been horrendous for her.

Meanwhile I’m feeling lousy. I think I might have a dose of the tummy-bug scourging Britain’s schools at present. However, the Coaching Session went off well this morning and I’m much praised for the clip art in my handouts. Huh. Never mind the content, feel the pics.

Have been giving Herself a hand with teeny-tiny making and admin as she powers up for a Dolls House Fair towards the end of the month. Must buy a new computer for her but can’t decide between a PC to replace the one that has died or a new laptop to replace the old one. We used to have a network here with 3 PC’s and a laptop + 3 printers. One PC went when the old business closed; one PC has died; one PC was replaced - so now we have one new PC but 4 printers and the old laptop. I wouldn’t mind but for the insane cost of Microsoft software. Given the volume of stuff they sell it should be £25 a shot - oh, and after all this time it should work perfectly like an old Victorian water pump. Round and round, day after day. Does it Hell!!!

I’m trying to buy the 5 classical CD’s in the D.Telegraph Offer for £8.99. It’s impossible. One of the key things about selling is to make it easy for people to buy. Why don’t these people know that?

I don’t know about you but I’m not at all happy about this Muslims v The Rest business going on at the moment. As a properly qualified Mediator I’m extremely grateful that I have no role to play - because I see the current chasm as unbridgeable. I personally dislike what I see as the steady decline of ‘the West’ into an absolute moral gutter. The list of things I find offensive is much too long for this small message. So the staunch support for Muslim standards has a resonance for me - except that I reject certain of their ’standards’. The treatment of women and the murder of innocents - worse, children - are but two. Indefensible on any grounds.

But how will this intellectual conflict play its way out? I suspect the answer is ‘brutally’. Something else I reject.

I believe in the right to freedom of expression. But that does not include the right to demean something as intrinsically important as a religion. So I believe that someone should be able to say that the Christian religion is a load of rhubarb. But not demean Jesus as happened in Jerry Springer or Life of Brian. An obscene step too far.

So in principle the Muslim and Christain faiths stride side-by-side with Judaism. In practice - not a chance. The challenge seems to be the problem of co-dependency. The Muslims accepting, from history, that the Jews have a long-standing link to the land of Jerusalem. And vice-versa. The West coming to terms with the fact that secularisation has destroyed standards of life and behaviour and restoring standards with or without the Christian religion.

Under Islamic (Sharia) Law , might our lives be much improved? No binge drinking. No assaults. No theft - unles you want to lose your hand (I like that one). No murder - unless you want to die and pay danegeld to the victim. Violent physical punishment to people who commit violent offences against innocents. Sounds good to me. Just tweek it a bit, that’s all. What do you think?

Just a thought. When taken by surprise, in person or on the phone, don’t react - just think - and then respond in the way that will be best for you. And never answer an e-mail you dislike without thinking it over first.

My love to you all - Dad

2/1/2006

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:37 pm

Displacement activity

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:36 pm

A cold and nothing-much kind of day down here today. I’m playing Brendan Croker to lift my spirits a bit.

Had a long, solid night’s sleep last night but woke up feeling nervous and fraught. And the feeling won’t go away. Worse still, I have a few serious things I MUST get done - and can’t can’t get my head around them. Quite the reverse from Henry’s new-found zeal - good on yer, ‘enery my boy. Keep it up!

Firstly the Personal Trainer bit. This seems to be getting along. Only problem - one knee is slightly wrecked and now I have an elegant but synpathy-demanding limp. Have reached my target on the treadmill of marching at 120 paces / minute and 3 mph. Just what I used to do in HM Forces. So that’s good. Just a question of doing it for longer and longer. I feel much better, I am much more cheerful (apart from today) BUT - I haven’t lost any more weight. Gloom. I want to wear my kilt without looking pregnant. Oh well, soldier on.

So what’s winding me up? Well I’ve got to create a Spring Programme of coaching courses for some internal sales people who don’t want to be sales people. And my mind is a total blank. I know them well now, having run a Spring and Autumn series last year - but. All they want to do is take orders and give information. I could scream!! Who pays their salaries? The customer. So we NEED as many customers as possible. Aarrgh!!

The other problem on my plate is this business of being a Mentor (in loco parentis) to Students and Companies participating in the Year in Industry scheme. I’ve had some personal problems to sort out for three of them - but that was OK. I’m just a kind of Dad with more authority than parents these days. Can you believe young kids having contraceptives provided and abortions done without their parents knowing or agreeing? Then there was the youngster taken to Court - again without anyone telling her parents. Surreal. Parents are parents. Which makes them responsible for their kids. Not the xxxxing State or some agent thereof. One major reason for all the trouble with youngsters these days is precisely because the State has dimished that responsibility in many ways. You couldn’t make up this lunatic state of affairs however drunk you were.

Anyway I have to make a State Visit to all the students in my group and their Managers for a mid-term round-up of how things are going. Wow, that’ll be fun!! So I’m getting my act together and preparing for whatever turns up. Wish me luck.

Which brings me to food. Yes, we’re Tesco-junkies and most of the time their stuff is good. We mostly buy / cook fresh stuff. But increasingly we’re buying over the internet from specialists. We’ve found an amazing meat source in Scotland. Properly hung (21 days) beautiful organic beef, and other similar stuff. Every meal is a total delight. Now we’ve hunted down a supplier of fishy things because we wanted good potted shrimps. There is a small sort-of Farmer’s Market once a week here but it’s not much cop at present. But in the future I can see us sourcing veg & salad direct.

Time to get back to work and stop avoiding it all.

Remember - perception is the only truth. So think about how you perceive others - and how others will perceive you. If you want to convince others you have to be perceived as the kind of person they want you to be. It adds a great deal of fun to your life.

Go gently out there today, people. Dad

1/23/2006

Busy, busy, busy

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:55 pm

Cold and raw here today - unusal for down here in Dorset. Playing calming flute music. Herself is at the coal face having returned from spending a couple of days seeing v. badly ill Dad & coping Mum at the end of last week. Also had a girls’ dinner with her sister which is nice for them both. Everyone trying to put a brave face on things but Mum unable to imagine how she’ll cope when Dad passes over after 60 years together and a wonderful marriage. She will cope somehow - but will miss him dreadfully. Staunch members of their Church (founded by Grandad), upright and very decent people who brought up a brood of kids on v. little money - all of whom have succeeded in their own lives and are at the top of their chosen professions. All worked hard at their education in State schools, no crime, no wingeing about how deprivation made them do drugs / drink, no playing away from home and only my wife with a divorce when her then husband ‘fessed up after being found in (their) bed with a bloke and wanted out because marriage ‘was too constricting’. Don’t say it - I’ve said enough for a hundred people. Given her Church and family upbringing you can have no idea what that did to my wife and I can never take that hurt away from her.

If her family could do what they have on the little they had - then anyone can. So I’m a bit short on sympathy for a certain sector of humman life-form burrowing in the filth of their pathetic lives on my money - and even worse, my wife’s money and her parents’ too. But they all vote for bliar ‘cause they know he and brown will keep thieving from the decent to throw at the grossly indecent.

You can tell I’m upset but if my wife ever found out I had written this she’d murder me. Born Again Christians can be very assertive!! It’s just that thinking over what her Mum and Dad achieved for their Church, their family and many disadvantaged people and how decent they are makes me mad at the tossers.

Meanwhile I’ve scored one against the commercial pirates by wringing £400 out of the company that my wife and I buy our cars from because they weren’t very nice to us or to a number of their staff whom I’ve known for 20 odd years. So we’re quids in which can’t be bad. Also the letter of apology will stay in the file for use another day. Heh, heh.

I can’t believe how long ago my last blog was but I’ve been a bit busy. Meanwhile I’m getting on fine with Rikki the Personal Trainer. He’s a nice chap and never sneers at me or my shape. I’m a lot better already - though miles away from being fit. The old belt came in a notch last week (which is better than keeping on buying longer belts) and the weight is down a tad. Oh well, onwards and upwards. Interestingly the bit I hate most is when he stretches my legs after all the exercise stuff. It hurts like Hell. But I can’t really cry. The joke is that although his shirt reads ‘Fitness Instructor’ on the back, he wrecked a leg last year playing football (soccer - the wrong sort) and is still having treatment - but I’m very caring and always ask how he’s doing. All the pieces of equipment are black and silver and computerised so I have to enter my private number and the results all come out in charts and graphs. Pride comes into this. Hey ho. Gotta go forritt!!

Also gyms are a new world for me with their own secret ways - like the Masons. Denizens come in various formats. Mr (oh God, and Miss - except I’m sure they must be Ms) Muscles. Found in the Weights Room. Stretch every opening of their clothing which was originally designed for the normal human form. Look EXTREMELY serious. Sweat (This includes the Ms’s) unattractively in v-shapes below the neck and between the buttocks. This appears to be a point of pride. If that happened to me I would not be proud, as they are, I would be deeply embarrassed. It would suggest that I was doing too much and should lie down quietly somewhere and listen to calming music whilst drinking something long and alcoholic with ice in it.

One nice group are those who are disabled in some way and come for helpful exercise. However limited their ability thay try cheerfully and hopefully. What a lesson to the tossers (see above) - and to me.

Then there are the mindless-bangers. Ho-hup, ho-hup. Staring blankly into space (or worse - at the mindless tv monitors) accepting the rubbish muzack, or - more often - wearing earphones to prove they have the latest thingy - they trundle away heaving, striding, pedalling towards some unknown nirvana. Human detritus.

Then there are the New Year’s Resolution Brigade. Even more lumpy than am I, unused to wearing gym kit, regretting coming there. Rikki tells me they’ll all be gone by mid-February.

More frightening are the white-haired slim-as-a-whippet brigade (both M & F) who hurtle at things at least twice as fast as I can without getting red in the face or even breathing too hard. Why haven’t they heard of crocheting, water colour painting or bird watching - or, better still, chatting down the pub?

Inevitably, there are the poseurs (again both M & F). Carefully coiffed hair (which they sweep back with a careful hand), distinctive - but not outrageous - sportswear, a towel (essential, apparently), a container of liquid - no NOT a mere bottle of water, something in plastic with a ‘feeder’ and a logo. Looking round to see who is watching they address each piece of equipment with care. Set the bottle down in the holder provided, fold the towel over the (inevitable) rail. Draw breath, look around again - and then ‘perform’. Yuch!!

The really frightening thought, though, is that no attractive people visit the gym. I heven’t seen one I would invite out to coffee, let alone home to dinner. Mostly the men look like a blank space and the women are - well - self-obsessed or homely. Ah, I see the penetrating question - what does that say about me? Simply that if I haven’t done enough to satisfy my Doctor at the start of March - he’ll give me more kinds of Hell than I can imagine. So I’m on a solo voyage and if the others are weird - it’s their problem not mine.

Sudden Thought - Surely none of them think that I’M weird? AArrgh!!

Enough already. My love and best wishes to Mort’s Mom and Julianna. Hey treasure - hope all is going well.

Today’s thought? Many people do harm in their day. So do a little good and bring a small smile to some of the people you interact with every day. A small moment of pleasure in a busy day is a gift like the first flowers in Spring. You can give that gift. So do it. Hey - take care out there - Dad

1/13/2006

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:35 pm

Where was I?

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:35 pm

Sunshine but a nasty cold wind today. Playing clasical stuff and can’t help playing Spiegel im spiegel by Part over and over again. Brings me out in tears.

The dreaded Rikki this morning, but I’m coming along well. The knee hates it, though. Then Melanie my gardening person who will restore my garden to some sense of beauty. 2006 is going to be a major re-building year.

It has been my week for sending flowers. To Henry’s Mum for sundry reasons; to Henry’s sister for what she has done for Mum; to Rachel who worked for Mum and me for some 12 years or so as a manager in the small chain of ladies underwear shops I owned at the time and who swaps Christmas Cards with me each year including 2005. Her card told me that she was marrying again (I think she’s about 73) so I sent the flowers. I think it is her SEVENTH marriage - but let’s not discuss that in public. She’s a dynamic lady. Anyway, with the flower-card came a message which ended with my first name. She phoned Interflora to ask who it was that sent them? I’m a ghost. I’m a non-person. Any minute now I won’t be able to see myself in the mirror. Actually I laughed my socks off.

I’d love to get my hands on Henry’s crane. May I ask for your support?

So I’m busy now and wish you all well. My simple thought today - tell someone you love that you love them. We’re all so darned busy that we don’t take the time to say those words. Later on, it might be too late. Be peaceful - Dad

1/7/2006

Zounds!!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:40 pm

Cold but bright sunlight today. Playing a classical music compilation CD which suits me fine. Herself is whizzing about and teeny-tiny gardening like mad. Phew!

Well, as foretold I met my ‘personal trainer’ Rikki for an assessment on Wednesday and started ‘the programme’ yesterday. Whew! Disconcerting to have electronic measurements of relative fat / lean in my lumpen shape compared with what they should be in an ideal case. My sole reason for not sharing this information is to spare those of you who are artistically inclined from the mathematics. Let alone the mere thought. Let’s just say ‘bad’ does not adequately cover the situation. However, the great thing about starting from a low base point is that minor early improvements look impressive. Very motivating.

The gym is awash with black hi-tech kit covered in buttons, readouts, flashing lights etc. The bad news is the musak. I can’t believe it was ‘written’ - certainly not by a sensate being. I have no idea how the ghastly sounds are created - if by humans then they must be ‘on’ something that would stun an elephant and can’t be long for this world - not that they appear to inhabit it at present. Is this the ‘pain’ linked to ‘gain’? I suppose it encourages me to hit my objectives as soon as possible so that I need never be forced to hear it (one cannot ‘listen’) ever again. Aaargh!!

Anyway I walked, pedalled, squatted, humped, pushed, strained, balanced and heaved. I asked Rikki if he was taught sadism or was it inherent? Then went home for a lie down. One knee is sulking and sending painful ‘nips’ to confirm it hates me and I ache in places I didn’t know I had. Meanwhile, pre-existing personal efforts of various kinds knocked off 8 pounds since before Christmas so if all this physical distress pushes that along my basic get-fitter-and-lose-two-stone objective should come in on time. Good project management.

That’s about it for now. Lots of interesting business stuff to do next week as well as more Rikki so things look good.

As a New Year refresher - remember that there are five keys to our lives:
The things we have to do.
The things we want to do.
The things we hope to do.
The things we do for fun.
The attitude we show to others.

Make sure you do something about each one every day and so go to sleep feeling at ease with yourself. Take care, all - Dad

1/1/2006

Aaah!

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:09 pm

Funny day here - some sun, some cloud. Big log fire going though.

Every year we watch the New Year’s Day Concert from the Golden Concert Hall in Vienna. Magic! In a brief speech at the end the Conductor said, in effect, music is a gift for the soul. Music is uplifting. Is he ever right. I find myself in tears and all choked up, can’t speak, when I hear various pieces of music. The only way you can get a ticket is by a lottery because so many people all over the world want to be there. Serious money as in bank robberies is required. Should we try to get two tickets before I snuff it? Hell, I won’t need the money afterwards.

Happy New Year to one and all. May you keep a small percentage of your N.Y.Resolutions. May 2006 bring health and happiness to you and yours.

But it will certainly bring sorrow and distress to some. So keep an eye out for others and give them a lift along the way, why don’t you. Dad

12/30/2005

Yowzah, yowzah!!

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:34 pm

So much news, so little time. It’s cold here and raining so I didn’t go to the the bank. Their problem - not mine.

Henry has broken free and Henry’s Mum is home again after the BIG KNIFE job. Please wish her well.

Big log fires here and a small Dad medical emergency which turned out to be nuffink. So that’s OK.

Next week is very challenging - please cross fingers. Can I get my car back with electric problem fixed? Can I manage a trade in of Herself’s car for something s-m-o-o-o-t-h-e -r and better? Can I survive a meeing with a BIG Corporate Client and win more cash next year? Can I survive a meeting with ‘Rikki’ (?) my ‘personal trainer’?

A new year and a new page turned. I wish you all well and hope that you will achieve some of your objectives for 2006.

Your dad.

12/25/2005

Something to share

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:57 pm

Well, it’s the Magick Day today so a very Merry Christmas to one and all and Herself and I wish you all a thumdumptiously super New Year. It’s just before lunch (free-range Scots beef and similar veg) and the sky is bright blue and the sun burning down. Not a sound. No-one moving. No cars and no usual Christmas sighting of the NEW BIKE / DOLLS’ PRAM / and any etc with wheels. Surely they’re not all getting video-games for a present?

We had mugs of tea and the log fire lit by 6 am; idled time away reading and doing crosswords; opened presents and made and took fone calls. The issue with presents between us it not how much moulah can you spend but how imaginative are they? I have a tiny radio-controlled car with traffic cones to make a tricky course which works very well in the kitchen (non-carpet floor) but nowhere else. Is Herself trying to wean me back into said place where I used to reign supreme? But I bought her the cook-book ‘Roast Chicken and other stories’ by Simon Hopkinson voted Number One cookbook ever. We exchanged steely glances over the ripped wrapping paper. As another gift for Her I sent a chunky donation to the Cats’ Protection charity and received a lovely little cuddly (toy) kitten as a thank you. She’s tickled pink. So that’s alright then.

Recently I’ve been having a bad time physically and mentally. A very good friend sent me an item by Collin McCarty which I would like to share with you all:

Twelve things to always remember and one thing never to forget.

Your presence is a present to the world.
You’re unique and one of a kind.
Your life can be what you want it to be.
Take the days just one at a time.

Count your blessings not your troubles.
You’ll make it through whatever comes along.
Within you are so many answers.
Understand, have courage, be strong.

Realise that it’s never too late.
Do ordinary things in an extraordinary way.
Have health and hope and happiness.
Take the time to wish upon a star.

And don’t ever forget - for even a day - how very special you are.

Well, not perfect, but worth thinking about. If it doesn’t fit you and your life as it is at present - print it out and keep it. Because you may well need it.

Go in peace, friends - Dad

12/23/2005

Crumbs!

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:08 pm

A nothing-much kind of day today. Herself swapped today with her alternate part-timer who wanted to go shopping but she has little to do in the office apart from watch over a corporate Christmas bun-fight from 4 pm. I can’t imagine anyone will stay more than an hour. So she might be home earlier than usual which would be nice. 3-in-the-morning jazz playing quietly. Aaah.

I went off to the library for a last-minute book transfusion and complimented a normally v. reserved lady librarian on her outrageous Christmas ear-rings. Deep blushand stutter in response, so that was nice. Meanwhile the hordes are out there, driving like maniacs with fists clenched on steering wheels, looking neither right nor left (nor sane) chasing down the almost-forgotten last mince pie or pack of sprouts. Which reminds me - - -

Having hated motorbikes since I was about 12 I decided to learn to ride one when I was 65. And then bought the Harley - yowzer!! Believe it or not I took my test on Christmas Eve. Plus-side - few trucks. Down-side - even more demented drivers frothing at the wheel. Of course, I passed first time (yawn) and had a great time. Including reducing the Examiner to tears of laughter as he recalled something I did. (Anyone who missed it the first time I told you - just ask and I’ll explain).

It’s very peaceful in the corner where we live. Pocket Park with lovely trees and a meadow with wild flowers lies behind the garden fence and most of the neighbours have been here for years. We know each other and though we don’t intrude - we look out for each other. That’s nice. We have this deal with Ken & Pat next door. Herself goes off at 6 am to buy the papers - and buys theirs, too. We have their house keys and look after their home / plants / w.h.y. and they have ours, ditto. Any car, any stranger turns up here and at least 10 pairs of eyes will clock them. So that’s nice.

I don’t know about you but most of the e-mails I get are garbage. Do I want ‘Meds’ whatever they are? Is my personal person in need of assistance? Why not throw money at the most amazing ding-bat stock? Come on. But I got a new one today. It seems that I have bought into www.viewpornstars.com. But why would I do that? In a long and quite satisfactory life I have seen sundry women dressed and undressed and understand about all the bits. So why would I need to peer dimly at a doubtless bored female person? The ones I ‘knew’ were never bored even though they may have just been bored. So to speak. As it were. Just don’t let on, OK?

So it’s take care, now, and get set up for a magic Christmas. Wish everyone around you well, and spread the love, right? My best wishes to you - Dad

12/21/2005

It makes you think

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:53 pm

Foggy and not nice at all today. So I’m not going out. I have this awful feeling that there must be something I’ve forgotten to do. I just can’t think what, though. So I give up. More Jools Holland though.

I have a lot of time for Lord Hutton’s comments so his suggestion that his and my political ideas seldom meet up was food for much thought. Apart from the blessedly extremely rare example of someone throwing abuse about and so demonstrating a lack of ability to listen, consider and debate things reasonably, I have the impression that my fellow blog-ring participants are an intelligent lot who think quite deeply about the meaning of life. And I have a strong feeling that most or even all of us share agreement about core objectives of how we would like things to be. Differences surface when the question of how to achieve those objectives arises. As a broad statement I loathe politicians on principle. Because of a devotion to dogma and all too frequently a total lack of consistent personal principle.

I often bang on about being a passionate egalitarian - so I’ll spare a repeat of the definition. I truly believe that everyone is equal - apart from those who demonstrate by their behaviour that they are despicable and unworthy of respect. But we are all different. Equal is NOT identical. I have certain skills, knowledge and norms of behaviour. Someone else, let’s say a brain surgeon, is very different from me and I can respect her / him for the things I can’t know or do. The same is true of the bloke who delivers my mail (he wears shorts all year round - hail, rain, snow or sunshine. Now THAT’s different from me!) and the driver of the garbage truck I joked with this morning. Both equal, decent but different people.

So the challenge is how to bring equality of opprtunity, equality of treatment and equality of respect to people who are equal - but very different one from another. That’s one of the reasons I get a sense-of-humour-failure when I see people like brown and prescot (see above re unworthy of respect) talking about and acting out class warfare. If we replace the highly emotive term ‘class’ with the term ’sector of the community’ - because there are people with differing ways of life - differences between the nature of people are NOT determined by their ’sector’ but by how they conduct themselves and their relations with others and their community. In plain speech, there are shits everywhere just as much as there are inately good people everywhere.

So I suspect that Lord Hutton and I want to see the same achievements for people and our world, we simply disagree over the best and fairest way to bring that about. So that’s alright, then.

Enough heavy thinking for now.

The good news about Henry is that since he can get a pass out on a Sunday, and Christmas is on a Sunday, it looks as if he and Trouty will be having Christmas Lunch with his Mum, brother and his wife. So that’s nice. Then he’s out on the 28th. with out-patient attendance after that. My New Year wishes for him are impossibly high, but I do so hope he will have a happier time of it in the future.

Well, no special thoughts today other than suggesting we value all that we have in this life rather than regret whatever we lack or have lost. Let’s enjoy Christmas (no, NOT the ‘Winter Holiday’ or any other daft euphemism) and face the New Year with hope and cheer.

Take care, folks - Dad

12/20/2005

Nearly there!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:52 pm

A bright sunny day here after an overnight frost necessitating the hot water over the windscreen to get going early this morning - off to do a training programme for a local firm. Went well; everyone happy; cheque already received. There’s trust. Then I got the glasses back so I CAN SEE properly again. Jools Holland and Friends playing today. Yeah!!

Talking of medical matters as one often does at my age I’ve invested in a new tool to help to force me to do what the Doc demands - take more (Some? Any?) exercise. So I went online and bought a ‘Talking Pedometer’. Can’t wait. Walking about just for the exercise is bad enough but being nagged whilst doing it? Aaarrgh! I think the site was www.presentsformen.com I dared not explore it fully for fear of what other total toecover (family term for generic useless present) I might buy. Wish me luck. Will my pedometer have a true English accent, or a Regional accent or a mid-Atlantic one? You can tell just how traumatic this is for me.

The term ‘traumatic’ naturally turns my thoughts to bliar et al. So Prescot wants a return to class war? That says it all, really. Merely 100 years out of date. The fact that he failed the 11 plus just proves what a fair and true test that was. He needs to be disposed of as hazardous waste. My letter to the DT about bliar’s totally, cringingly, complete f-up of OUR (NOT his) Presidency of the EU wasn’t printed. So with just the one glorious exception my record of non-letter-publication remains pristine. Since my name is not F. Forsyth (Who he anyway? Judging by his over-long garbled letters he cannot be a professional writer) I can’t get my letters published despite the fact that I write quite cogently and as a free-lance journalist have been published hither and yon (and also listened to on the National Beeb) for years. So I know I write well enough - but I’m not on the ’secret list’. It’s a racket. Harrumph. brown is merely a more fluent but innately equally uneducated (this is not a comment about academic qualification - one can be apparently ‘educated’ yet learn nothing) bitter socialist determined to wreak vengeance on decent people. Class war too. Please deliver us from these perverts as soon as possible.

Cheer up, Dad!! Feeling smug at having cracked the Christmas present problem I have devised a cunning plan. Herself has dressed our modest sized tree and the lights sparkle so as to lift the heart. Starting yesterday I plan to put another present under the tree for her each day until THE DAY. I created the tags in PowerPoint so she may read the obscure teaser messages - but mustn’t open the packages until THE DAY.

‘Love’ is a complex and difficult word. Perhaps its true meaning is linked to the person about whom it’s used? I’m not happy when people debase the word ‘love’ and say to all-comers ‘I lurve yu’. But thinking about it, I love my wife, I love Henry’s Mum (quite a lot, actually) I love Henry - and his brother and sister. But those ‘loves’ are different. Perhaps we should stop ‘loving’ everyone and anyone, respect our differing loves for those close to us and then really remember how important those loves are to us and make sure the objects of our love know how much we love them - for who they are and how much they mean to us? Go on - tell your differing loves of your love for them. You see, it might mean a lot to them. And loving ‘A’ in one way takes nothing away from loving ‘B’ differently.

Keep working on the Christmas thing - with my kind of love to you all - Dad

12/18/2005

Yippee!!!!

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:40 pm

My mind and bum are numb, my back is killing me, my right wrist / fingers feel weird and I can’t see straight. (An arm came off the glasses with the latest prescription and my back-up pair are the previous one so things are a bit blurry. Who can afford TWO pairs of new glasses when there’s a new formula? When I have to have a new pair the last pair become the back-up. REMEMBER - if you wear prescription glasses never drive a car or travel away without having a spare pair with you. You’d create a very big accident on the motorway if your glasses got broke and you had no spare. Anyway, special computer glasses on now, though, so the screen / text is crisp and clear.)

I also have sparkly bits all over my forehead and I twinkle in the lights when I move, Herself says. So what have I been doing? The first correct answer accomapanied by an English Bank Note (I have a long memory for the Estonian one!!!) will win a small bottle of aftershave (no, it’s NOT genderist - I KNOW women shave bits too) providing you also pay the postage. I learned this scam from the people who think I’m an idiot. (Whoa!! Health & Safety Alert!! You don’t want to be killed in the crush, do you?) I get these ‘Notifications’ that I’ve won something and it will take a mere 10 minutes at Z quid a minute to find out what that is. Huh.

Alright. I give in. I’ve DONE THE CARDS!!! Whatever snobs say about hating computer labels on Christmas card envelopes, those labels take the (extra) pain out of writing Christmas cards. No, really, I like the people I send personal cards to but the killer was looking up and writing the addresses. Bing!! Gone. Just a few changes to cope with.

Better yet than that, we have a posh, smart, super Post Office Sorting Office 5 mins down the road so we take our mail there and it drops straight into the lap of a dedicated mail-sorting person. Which means we get the jump on others who have only a lost, lonely, unloved post box into whose maw they commit their earnest concerns. Yeah! Done it all!! Phew!!! Please accept this as a kind of C’ Card to you personally. You are fortunate in that lacking knowledge of your location I can’t turn up saying ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’ and seeking warming festive liqours.

Well, food calls. I have no news of Henry or Trouty but hope they’re doing OK. My love to them both. Amidst your own family-centred festivities this coming week please spare a prayer for them both.

And my thoughts today? We’re all of us imperfect. Which doesn’t mean that everything we do is blighted. Not at all. Take private comfort from the things you do in your life that bring no harm or - even in a small way - help others in our world whether human or other. Take heart from contributing to rather than taking from.
Perhaps try, even if you fail, to influence others to cause less harm. Anyone from the head of government (sadly, no capital letters apply in England - which used to be part of Britain which has been disolved by fiat not referendum) to your next door neighbour. BUT - as someone said (was it Kipling - please advise) ‘Softly, softly catchee monkey’.

Think on, as they say in Yorkshire. The White Rose County whereas everyone knows that Lanacashire (the RED rose County) is best. Oh, and it’s completely irrelevant that I was born in Lancashire.

Rest well and rise refreshed. Dad

12/17/2005

Cracked it!

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:14 pm

Bright sunshine but a sharp cold wind today. Eva Cassidy playing and Herself busy with this and that.

Desperation did indeed bring Inspiration so I have completed the Christmas purchses for Herself. She’ll be surprised. A one day hire of a three ton truck; a set of heavy lifting equipment suitable for serious road accidents; self-contained breathing apparatus - I was alight with ideas. But I wound up buying smaller and more delicate things after all. Though I did really hanker after the heavy lifting stuff. Oh well, Perhaps next year.

Otherwise good enough news apart from bliar giving away zillions of OUR money. Because the Gov’t has none of its own after brown gave our gold reserves away when the market was the lowest for generations. Charity begins at home. bliar threw away money we need for the police, hospitals and schools. He has NO MANDATE to do that. What in God’s name is the matter with people in Britain that so many can’t see what a self-obsessed dickhead the man is and how much damage he’s doing to us all? I bloody well despair.

Difficult to think calmly at present after that. However - Christmas is a stressful time so set yourself an objective. Behave and say things in a way that will make the harrassed person in the shop, the family, the pub - whoever - smile and enjoy a small moment of pleasure in a frantic life. The true spirit of Christmas is internal and brings a lift of the spirit to those whose lives you touch. Many small kindnesses of spirit are of much greater value than outward displays of greed and power.

You can do it!! Dad

12/16/2005

It’s a funny old day

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:48 pm

Mixed weather - very cloudy first thing - and more Chet Atkins playing. Herself in a right state today - too much to do and too many things not going right. Her car is in while they locate a mysterious water leak somewhere on the body and she has a loan car. Wanted to go to Tescos at 5.15 this morning (usual practice) and can’t find loan car keys. Language - stress - temper. Finds them in the place she had carefully placed them yesterday so as not to mislay them. Zipped pocket in handbag never normally used. Xtreem frustration and didn’t get to do her shopping. More problems over the internet (see below) and emotional temperature at Vesuvious level. Then good news. Re her speeding clanger, letter arrives offering remedial driving course instead of being nicked and getting licence endorsed. Over the moon. (The cost is the same as the fine would have been). I had just read an article about all that and saved it so she can read about what’s going to happen. Phew. After that everything went right. Sweetness and light. Cassoulet for lunch? Yup.

Microsoft have started INSISTING on stuffing random downloads on to my computer. I can’t find out what they are for and can’t choose not to have one. So far every time they’ve done this my computer has a period of hysterics and Norton Security goes up the wall. Got Norton fixed but this morning all desktop icons moved including quick-starters on the task bar. Can I put it all back where it was? Can I Hell. And M’soft Help is as much use as a bicycle is to a fish. I have several reasons for loathing Bill Gates. His mere existence is one.

Must do the Christmas cards before the weekend because they’re raining in thick and fast. Thank Heaven for computerised labels.

Christmas v. low key this year and no mega presents but I have no idea about a special one for Herself. I just can’t think of anything she really needs. Oh well. Desperation brings Imagination. Please. Fortunately some years ago the family agreed a moratorium on presents within the family. Very sensible. We each donate to a Charity instead.

Thanks to Julianna for kind comments - hope you’re keeping smiling and all set for Christmas. Have a good one. Thoughts too for Mort’s Mom. Hope things are OK with you, too. Otherwise my thoughts to those I’ve come to meet through this site and have shown me much kindness. Have the kind of Christmas you want and my best wishes to you all. Thanks for talking to me and here’s to a good New Year. Special thoughts for Henry and Trouty - this could be a funny old Christmas but a real fresh starting point. A quiet prayer for you both.

Christmas is a very stressful time for many people and lots of people have rows and worse. Then there are people who are sad, lonely, perhaps facing Christmas after a sad loss. So two ideas. You won’t be having any rows with anyone and will move fast to put the lid on anything that might be about to break out. Also have a think about the people you know who may face a too-quiet too-miserable time and make a small extra effort to speak to them / phone them - anything. Send a private card after Christmas to say you hope they’re OK. Make the effort to think of others outside the usual family and friends - it could mean an awful lot to someone having a rotten time.

Go in peace, friends - Dad

12/11/2005

And now for something completely different

Filed under: — Dad @ 3:39 pm

Top of the News must be Henry and apart from his blog (pls see my comment) he phoned me this am. In top form - so that was v. good. Everything crossed for him. And please spare a thought for indomitable Trouty. Luv yer, hen!

Weather bright after a cold night. Sunshine and that. Back to Chet Atkins. Always there when I need him.

Great excitement about the drama with the fuel depot fire in Hemel Hempstead. Next to an industrial estate known as Maylands Avenue. Also close to a residential area known as Adeyfield. It’s a small world.

During the War (Which war? WW2 1939 - 1946 [most people think 1945 but don’t forget the Far East / Japan]) many thousands of homes had been destroyed by people in thrall to Hitler. So a PLAN was devised to build a series of so-called New Towns. HH was one. It was built surrounding a small village and was a few miles from the village of Redbourn where my Dad had his factory having been bombed out of London and that’s where we lived for some years.

Following our marriage Henry’s Mum and I lived in an new flat in HH in - yes - Adeyfield. That’s where Henry was born. And his brother (but in a house there, not the flat).

Our flat was on the third floor and one Summer’s day as I was attending to the car out back, Henry’s Mum appeared on the balcony saying that baby Henry was inside but she’d locked herself out of the flat. Aargh!! So, stupidly, I took out my keys and threw them up to her. Hmm. Not a good idea. They went over the top, on to the roof and fell into the gutter. So now neither of us had keys. BUT I had the car keys. So I hit the road to the Fire Station. Peace. Calm. Men catching the sun - aah. Help! Help! Yeah, wazit? Baby, wife, flat, keys. BIG men explode into life, blue flashing lights, siren, HUGE fire truck followed by me and sod the speed limit. (Enough about that, OK?) Extending ladder, man, collect keys from gutter and hand to palpitating Mother standing on balcony. Tidy kit away. Offer tea. No need, tea available in Fire Station. They cruise quietly away. And people think a mere vast explosion causing many casualties (but thankfully no deaths) and millions of pounds worth of damage is important?? [Note: That was a joke. It’s v. serious, OK?] I wonder if Henry knows about that? Perhaps we never told him.

Oh and by the way, his Mum and I both worked for a firm in Maylands Avenue. I expect the building’s just been flattened. It’s a funny old world indeed.

Which natcherally brings us to recent chatter. Whew. Thanks to everyone who posted a comment. I enjoyed all of that and thought that there was much value in the views expressed. The interesting thing is that I think that we share many common views about the world even though there may be fierce differences of opinion about specifics. So after a high-level adrenalin charge, time for something peaceful.

I’m off again tomorrow for a trip to meet more students doing a gap-year in the Year in Industry. I’ve found the psychology fascinating. Here am I in my 70’s listening to thoughtful, responsible people in their late teens expressing their ideas after a first submersion in the world of work in engineering - upon which we all depend. Leave aside a twit or two, I just wish there were more of them. Alight with the possibilites they see. Blows my head away. And joy of joys the woman I’ll be with is called Charity. We took a little while to get our views of each other sorted. She was so nice about me. She holds up a shield to the world (I haven’t yet figured out why) and claims that I’ve seen straight through it to her real self. I hope so. She seems fierce - but she’s soft butter inside and unsure. She’s lovely to work with.

Most people see others in one dimension. With a label. Lout. Gay. Jew. Crunkly oldie. Tarty girl. Whatever the law says we can’t prevent people from seeing others in that way. Some people see others in two dimensions. Lout BUT cares about music. Gay BUT cares for disadvantaged people. Jew BUT cares about the community.
We need to see past the first two dimensions into the third dimension. The reality of the soul within the person regardless of the convenient labels we all use when thinking about others.

So please use 3D vision. And bring tranquility. Dad

12/9/2005

Whew! What a palaver!

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:12 pm

Abandoned, I am! Herself has driven off to visit unwell Mum and quite frail unwell Dad - due back late tomorrow. But she’s just phoned to say she got there in v. good time with fairly light traffic. So that’s good. Weather better than yesterday and warmer - but not amazing. Bach playing today - sparked by a reference in a novel I’m reading. Good stuff. I wish I played an instrument other than drums / percussion. I love that and always did but just now and again I’d love to play twiddly bits and tunes. But the grass on the other side of the fence is always greener and it’s too late now.

Well, I seem to have lit the blue touch paper with my previous musings. Firstly many thanks for the various insights I received. That’s an aspect of this blogging business that I just love. I’ve always loved debate as opposed to two ‘deaf’ people just repeating the same shouted frozen attitudes at each other. But some response seems called for so here’s where I’m at. (If you’re bored with the topic(s) look away now).

Firstly some general principles. There are millions of people and so statistically a percentage of them will do bloody stupid things. For each of us there will have been times when we did unwise or downright stupid things. I certainly have. Fortunately, most of the time we get away with them and harm neither ourselves nor anyone else. But sometimes we do.

Then, in reality, accidents happen. An accident is just that - someone in the wrong place at the wrong time or doing the wrong thing - like standing on a swivel office chair to reach something off the top shelf, twisting, falling and striking a sharp edge on the way down. There is an insane culture around at present saying that there should be no accidents and if one happens it MUST be someone else’s fault and there must be compensation. Stupid. People should look out for themselves and avoid hazards like a damaged pavement stone or ‘trip’ as it’s called. Just watch where you walk, OK? If the problem is caused by active error on the part of someone else then that leaves room for discussion.

Try this for a brutal current example. Two nice young teenage girls wanted to go by train to Cambridge for Christmas shopping. They had to buy tickets on one platform then cross the railway lines to the other platform to join the train that was waiting there. They were killed by a train coming the other way at about 1oo mph. That is awful. Their families are desolated and two lovely young lives have been snuffed out. But it was an accident. So although there were warning lights flashing which they must have seen people want to blame the railway company because the access gate wasn’t locked. The unpalatable other face of the coin is that they should have got to the station earlier to allow comfortable time to buy a ticket and cross a clear line to wait for the train they wanted. They should have attended to the light signal. They should have thought ‘we can’t see the other line past the bulk of the train standing in the station so we can’t be sure that nothing is coming so we shouldn’t risk it’. But they did. And they’re dead. And that’s horrible. But that was an accident. It is ludicrous to seek to prevent anyone, ever, from suffering an accident caused by an error of their judgement - or that of someone else - or an uncontrollable physical event - like the tsunami.

Unconvinced? Mad at me? As I understand it (and this may vary from State to State - I don’t know) in the USA if some stranger enters the grounds of my property or, worse, my building, I can shoot him / her and it’s their fault for being there uninvited and unwanted. Here in the UK if I confront a burglar on my property and I have the strength to oppose them or, dear me, use a weapon of any kind, I am WRONG and have offended against the burglar. What? At my age I could never win against a young man intent on stealing from me. So the only way I can defend myself and my property would be by using help - sword, gun, w.h.y. But I would be wrong. And this blisteringly stupid damned Labour government filibustered out a private member’s bill to put that imbalance right. OK. Why are any of you suppoorting an unspeakable government that believes a burglar has more rights that I have when he’s on my private property? Please explain why that is not totally and absolutely perverted. Sick. Yuck. So the State and politicians can be wrong.

Which brings us to speed cameras in the UK. These are a steam-hammer to crack a nut. Two police forces reject them (rightly) and say it’s not sheer speed that’s the problem, it’s poor driving OR an accident caused by the cyclist / pedestrian behaving without thought. They say that cameras do not reduce accidents but good traffic policing does because they catch bad drivers. Where cameras are put up, traffic police are taken away. So bad driving goes un-noticed but a technicality brings a fine without being able to say that the road was clear and dry, weather fine, vehicle fully under control.

The area where I live is littered in cameras. We were told that they would be set up only where there had been a series of accidents with pedestrians. Not true. There are a number set up on clear stretches of road where there hasn’t even been a two car fender-bender let alone an accident which hurt a person. There is a notorious strech of dual carriageway with a 40 mph speed limit between two roundabouts. The line of the road is straight, no hidden stretch of road - nothing. But because there is housing on one side which has a separate service road in front of it and is not on the main road itself - it’s 40. That kind of thing simply makes a mockery of all these do-gooders.

Stu was concerned that when I adjust the radio or heater in my car I might hit a cyclist. He didn’t mention the number of EXTRA accidents caused by cameras because people have their eyes pinned on their speedo rather than the road (Fact). He didn’t mention that when I was out and about earlier this week in the dark there were bloody death defyingly stupid cyclists who were riding along WITH NEITHER FRONT NOR REAR LIGHTS. And this is LEGAL??? And he didn’t mention that through my inflated Council Tax I have paid for ‘cycle ways’ to be created - BUT stupid cyclists refuse to use them - and there is no law saying that they have to. So I’m in the car, the cyclist won’t use a dedicated cycle track and insists on wearing dark clothing whilst ambling along without any lights whatsoever - and suddenly it’s MY FAULT if I hit him? Go make sense of that. You can’t, because it’s non-sense.

Brad really lost his sense of humour with me which I’m sorry about. No speed camera would stop a very elderly lady making a very unfortunate mistake and hitting his family at 25 mph on a zebra crossing. See above. It was an accident. The driver’s fault, not the family. And had the driver been a drugged-up youngster in a stolen car doing 45 mph then he may well have lost his family. No camera can change that. Seen the recent picture taken by a speed camera of the faces of 3 louts in a stolen car doing 40 in a 30 limit? You need police for that, not a camera. And Brad - I didn’t set out to cause offence but your comment is an example of the impossibility of discussing in public ideas which libertarians propound but which are not necessarily sensible. Lord Hutton suggests that ‘as long as the average [person] can speak their mind there is no problem’ - but I’m afraid that obviously there is. Just because you do not share my viewpoint doesn’t make me wrong. So no need for language that might offend the kids.

Cars don’t kill people, people do. Guns don’t kill people, people do. Yet because one deranged person tragically murdered children in Dunblane my wife and I - and many other perfectly sensible people - had to surrender the pistols we enjoyed using on the local range and now can no longer enjoy exercising our skills. For many years I was a certified weapons training instructor and safety / range officer. I am very highly aware of the need for the safe handling of firearms. But some lunatic politician in an orgy of publicity-seeking has taken from me a particular pleasure and decreed that he knows better than I and indeed that I am incapable of exercising care in the use of firearms. Sheer arrogant offensive libertarian nonsense. I bet I’ve fired more rounds in safety and taught more people safe weapon handling than he even imagined. And meanwhile there has been an explosion in the number of ‘Saturday night specials’ owned and used by scum who never had a lesson in gun use in their lives but blow others away every weekend. So it’s OK for them but not for me. That’s plain disgusting.

So let’s lighten up a bit and become more questioning about whether the nanny-state is necessarily right. And let’s reclaim the rights of the individual and the need for us all to become personally responsible not slave-subjects. Britain used to be the land of the free. Not any more.

You all know about John Dunn (b. 1834 lived in S.Africa) He became very strongly associated with the Zulu Nation. In 1856 a civil war broke out between the King’s two sons Mbuyasi and Cetshwayo. Many thousands of Zulus died. Cetshwayo won and the King let him effectively run the Zulu Nation. He became King on the death of his father in 1872. He asked Dunn to be his Secretary and Diplomatic Advisor and Dunn was subsequently acclaimed a Zulu Chief. Although he had a white wife, to her displeasure he was awarded sundry Zulu wives and ultimately wound up with about 45 of them and sired about 110 children - so there’s a lot of Dunn history about to this day.

He said ‘The creation of wealth is almost a duty because of the widespread benefits that flow from it.’ Why is a University Graduate like Brown unable to understand that without a strong and thriving private sector there will be no funds for him to squander blindly on the public sector?

Have a peaceful day - Dad

12/8/2005

Kind of pending

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:30 pm

Oh what a horrid day, weather-wise. Clouded over and no sun, raw and cold. Too much to do to loiter by the fire so dumb central heating on. Ugh! Country & Western playing. Yee-hah!! Herself is teeny-tinying like mad - Christmas demand. DIY snowmen in demand. Strings of mini-lights either coloured or white in great demand - I did a deal to buy in several cases of them at a v.sharp price so the profit margin is v. good. It needs to be.

Why? It’s all about speed cameras. I LOVE good cars. In my younger days I was a Club Racer and paid attention to driving my car well / fast / safely rather than the theoretical speed limits. Then as things became more repressive I became more cautious. For years I owned and drove Sports Bentleys as my ‘company car’. 7 litre engine, sports supension, would accelerate through roundabouts as if they were on rails. Never stepped out once. Left all the boy racers, Mercs and BMW’s for dust. Magic!! But these bxxxxy cameras have done my head in. I now abide v. carefully to speed limits but even so the mere sight of a camera puts my pulse rate / blood pressure through the roof. Since I have (fairly minor) heart problems this is NOT A GOOD THING. They freak me out.

Herself is normally more cavalier than I. A 40 mph speed limit means ‘not less than 40 and somewhere over that’ to her. Coming back from a Craft Fair the other night along a road that I warned her was awash in cameras she bit her lip and stuck to under 40. But missed the 30 sign. Flash.Bang. The Wallop came in the post this morning. I would have been physically sick had I seen the flashes in my mirror and died when I got the letter. She is just spitting mad and can’t understand how she missed the 30 sign. So she needs the profit to pay the fine and is mad as a parrot that her unblemished licence will have the dreaded points on it now. And she was nicked for doing 36. In top gear you can get up to that whilst adjusting the heating or the radio. It’s al bliars fault. He’s got to go. Him, his unreconstructed rabid socialist love / hate mate brown and his bloody awful rotten sick political party.

Which segues naturally into Dave Cameron. I LOVED his session with bliar at PM’s questions. Magic!! Cameron set the agenda and the tone. He had bliar on the back foot beautifully. I LOVED the crack about the Labour Chief Whip sounding like a child and ‘Have you finished? Right?’ Oh, I’ve been waiting years for that. Please God (and I don’t write that lightly) will this guy save my country from the appalling damage done by bliar and that weirdo brown. They’re wrecking the place.

The internet is taking over. We’ve ordered more food over the internet than ever before. And some of the stuff - meat, cheese, sausages - w.h.y. - are superb. Back to the kind of meat I could buy in the country 40 odd years ago. Proper beef, properly farmed, kindly slaughtered and then hung for 3 weeks. Cor!! Slobber slobber.

Broke off there to take a call from another old friend. Bad news. It seems that life is in a permanent state of upheaval these days. Broken marriages, medical dramas, kids going wrong - whatever happened to the life I remember? What’s the root cause of all this disturbance? Well there’s no one simple answer. But it seems to me there’s a whole bunch of so-called libertarian ideas that have resulted in ripping the guts out of society. And we’ve all lost out as a result. The thing that angers me most about these people is their arrogance. They fondly imagine that only they are right. If anyone chooses to hold a different view - they abuse them rather than debate. I can’t be doing with that. We’ve long reached the stage where observations about society can be discussed only in private behind closed doors. To speak out is to be villified. None of this is right. It was the same in Nazi Germany. So why are so few people worried?

This blog is getting too deep!

Do good by stealth. Do one thing to help other less fortunate people in the next day without anyone knowing you did it. It could mean gifting money (But not just to an arms-length charity. That might salve your conscience but is not personal enough); it could mean how you respond to someone; it could mean helping someone less favoured than you. But it will be your secret. You will remember it in private and that will lift your spirit as you lifted the spirit of the person you helped.

My CD is playing the song ‘The wind beneath my wings’. I’ll play it again. Go in peace. Dad

12/5/2005

Oh well!

Filed under: — Dad @ 3:28 pm

Normal service is resumed!

Damp, cold and gloomy today. Ugh. Playing 3-in-the-morning s-m-o-o-t-h jazz since Herself shot off to work at 7.15 this morning and won’t be back until 6.20. Another ugh. Fireplace with a heap of fine ash reminds me of the super fire we had from about 6.30 yesterday morn until bed-time. Mixed coal and (free) well dried birch wood. Oh we do love open fires!!

Well what good news from Henry!! I’m so glad he’s sticking it out despite being surrounded by morons. He must be so pleased with so many lovely supportive comments. On his behalf - thanks a lot, everyone, it will mean a great deal to him and brave Trouty, too.

In my mid-twenties I spent a year in a Sanatorium in Norfolk with TB. That was character-forming! But we didn’t have TV and very few idiots, thank the Lord. Being confined to bed when you don’t feel ill - but are actually very ill - is extremely frustrating. Very different from Henry’s situation. But I shared a room with a super bloke about my own age and as we got better we worked off our frustrations. So to speak. Actually received wisdom was that TB heightened one’s sexual voltage (unless you really were at the end of the road) and there were many stories about patients past and present. I remember Leanna Hood whose room was on the floor above mine. I wonder whatever happened to her? The pity of it is I’ll never know. Anyway, eventually me and my chum re-organised and re-branded the patient’s shop and made it make a profit for the first time in living memory; took over the library, re-bound damaged books and blagged new ones from a charity; ran the hospital radio service. They must have been glad to see the back of us. Everyone left in the end. The nasty bit was discovering whether you’d leave on foot or in a box. It took them 6 months to figure it out for me and some good friends left horizontally. Enough!! Another day I’ll tell you about how we trapped the Occupational Therapist.

Well, I’ve just found out that I’m a Veteran. Ain’t that great? An old friend of mine asked if I’d got my Veteran’s Badge. What? Well, ’tis true I was a Regular Officer in the RAF (which is where I got the TB and why I was invalided out) but I never served in a war. Lo and verily, so long as you served well and truly - call the Veteran’s Agency and thou shalt receive a neat badge providing you still know your Service Number. I did and I’ve got one. Dinky. And I’m going to wear it, too.

Where did the year go? It’s Christmas already - again! Which means another birthday looms and another toll on my age. I just don’t feel that old. I don’t suppose you do, either!!

Now let me tell you a story:
Two old (literally) friends of mine were part of my circle of friends when I was a teenager. As tends to happen in such groups, they married. They are both very intelligent. She is quite unwell now but was always a worker. She would beaver away through the night if need be. He disliked the dead burden of a daily job and shirked - but was clever enough to get by. We did various things together including setting up an Art Gallery and starting a magazine. Cor!

She is a staunch Catholic. They had a son, then twins, one M one F, then another son. Two disaters befell them. Their first-born was found to have serious mental disabilites so they withdrew to live and work mostly at home to care for him. She had a high profile career in the broadcast media - until she became too ill to continue. He became a free-lance journalist - and then stopped. In his mid-teens the male twin died after coming off his motorbike. His Mother has never recovered from that to this day.

Her disbaled son frightens people. They don’t know how to cope with him because he’s big and abrupt when he speaks. When I visit, we get on fine because I deal with him as he deals with me and he can understand that. So we’re mates. The other day she was having a bad day and spoke sharply to him. He grabbed a coat and ran out of the house. Big drama. Came out OK in the end. Now she’s beating herself up for causing the problem. I’ve tried to explain that I know how well she treats him and how much she cares for him so to err is human and she lost it, just a bit, once.

We all get it wrong with our loved ones (and our un-loved ones) from time to time. The issue is not ‘Did I cock it up last Thursday?’ It’s ‘Do I normally get it right?’ Occasional failure is allowed because we’re all frail human beings.

Stop beating yourself up. What is past is past. So do better next time, why don’t you? Carrying and displaying abject misery doesn’t help - and it keeps making the others miserable just because you are. Button it. Swallow it. Tomorrow is an as yet unspoiled day.

Thanks again to you all for your comments about Henry. And have a peaceful day. Dad

11/25/2005

Some news

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:47 pm

Sunshine here and not the threatened snow. Playing the jazz CD I won. Working on the teeny-tiny garden stuff. Herself has a Craft Fair tonight so things are a bit fraught.

Spoke to Henry onthe fone at his hospital place. Hmm. He’s there but he’s not happy. I sent him love on behalf of all of us.

Talking of politics and people, I’ve known since 1997 that bliar was a total prat and a useless wanker as well. I understand many things but I have never been able to understand why the mass of English humanity believes in a dick-head. PLEASE would someone explain to me why the population of what used to be a proud Nation sign up - more than once - for a pilloch?

It’s lunch time so I mst fade away. Julianna, treasure, how are you? We’re all here for you. Mort’s Mom - hope it’s going OK for you and thanks for your comment. I really appreciated that.

When people are unpleasant to you - they have a problem, not you. Don’t react. Just respond. You can understand why they feel like that and help them to feel better. Some won’t like that - but remember that if you join the argument, you’re part of the problem, not the solution.

Cheers all - Dad

11/20/2005

The things I didn’t know

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:43 pm

’tis Sunday and the air is cold and fresh, the sky blue and the sun clear. Mark Knopfler playing and Herself off to Surrey for family business. So I thought I’d look at other blog sites which I haven’t understood about before.

They’re all different. I can’t find the right knobs to push. How can I comment? Huh? Having flicked through some I want to comment - but find I’m teknolodgy dumb.

I’ve learned that other blog sites are so much more up-front than mine.

So what conclusion can I draw? I will continue to offer leaden and dull comment which many people who see my blogs think unworthy (’cause I have a hit-meter or whatever it’s called and many people read the site but ignore it) and continue to plough my old rumpled cyber-world furrow. So there.

Moving right along, when real fresh food is easy to cook, why would anyone buy boil in the bag or frozen dinners? I love my food but won’t eat rubbish. Any ideas how we can stop this happening?

I’ve been stuck with communication problems recently. The message you send is measured by the feedback you get. If they didn’t hear you right, perhaps you didn’t communicate it right? Cheers all, Dad

11/16/2005

It’s a jungle out there!

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:45 am

Happily playing what Henry calls my ‘feem toon’. It took a bit of finding but I like it and it just about fits my blog style, I reckon. Many thanks to the techno-skills of the person wot done it for me. If you think you’ve heard it somewhere it’s the main theme music from the TV series ‘Monk’ about a neurotic detective.

Coldish, greyish day today and I’m not feeling all that good. There’s a guy outside putting a new windscreen in Herself’s car so we hope it won’t rain. Otherwise helping the teeny-tiny business by dealing with sundry suppliers. Everyone’s going nuts about Christmas (as are we) so it’s not much fun. Still waiting for a sample of the resin brick wall we’re having made but have ordered 50 sets of laser-cut base + walls for the DIY gardens. That sounds hi-tec!! They sell well. Oh well.

Had some twit on the phone this morning trying to sell me the latest version of his software. Why do they keep getting their scripts from the same rubbish people? ‘Mr.Windsor? (upward inflection of voice) How are you today?’ ‘I don’t know you and I don’t think it’s any of your business.’ It’s not good sales technique to begin by making the prospective customer cross.

Not much else to chatter about so I’ll sign off for now. The best way to get people to listen to you is to listen to what they have to say then acknowledge one or two of their points to show you listened to them before you get started on your own agenda. Too many people don’t really listen, they just use the time someone else is talking to figure out what they want to say themselves. How can you know until the other person has finished? And why should they listen to you if they don’t know you listened to them? Funny thing, communication. Cheers all - Dad

11/15/2005

Yet more electrical stuff

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:50 pm

Cold but bright today. Playing Chet Atkins again because I’m in a mental mess and can’t figure out how to escape from it. Have Scott Joplin ready for next. Who needs Champion the Wonder Horse? Huh!

Saw the Doc this morning. Mixed news. Blood pressure down in response to recent new pills. Good. Got stomped on for excess weight, blood sugar (borderline to diabetes) and cholesterol. Shape up! Change now! Get a grip! Hmm. Primary problem lack of exercise. We’ve k nown each other a long time and are professional friends. We like and respect each other and tell each other the plain truth. So I know he’s right. But I can’t get my head right about all this for reasons that are too many and too private to relate.

I always get to the surgery early because he often sees me early which helps him. Sitting waiting and reading the book there’s the urgent hooting and blue flashing lights of a police car passing by. Then ditto of an ambulance. Then more ditto of a fire engine and a fire rescue truck. Someone’s having a bad day. Talking to the Doc, we’ve just got to the bit where we discuss motor racing and the new Masters Formula run in South Africa at the weekend when the lights go out. So does the computer. Chaos! So we finish our chat in the near total dark and then I stroll out. I’m due to have a ‘procedure’ from a Sister after the Doc but no power - no procedure. I try to book my next appointment. No computer, can’t be done. Total shambles. Trying to help I hear that there’s a big fire somewhere (THAT’s what the flashing blue lights were about) and so no power for 3 / 4 hours. Roll up sleeves and help staff with patients, w.h.y. Get big praise and go home. 5 x 3 index cards were so much more reliable.

Have discussed battery problems with car dealership. Taking car in on Friday. Free loan car, free inspection. It’s amazing what people will do for you if you work it the right way. Oh, and if it’s a battery problem, a free battery. Why would I go anywhere else?

Lunch has just been declared so I must away. Firstly, Julianna, you’re a real dish. Hang in there, treasure. Let me know you’re doing OK. How lucky you are to have so many people on this site praying for you and thinking about you. It’s like being wrapped in a cashmere shawl. So who’s a lucky girl, then? And have a happy week.

For the rest of us, we act the way we THINK we are - right or wrong. So re-think yourself. Reinforce the good bits and wipe out the negative bits. And excellence is a habit, not just an occasional act. Why not be an excellent person? Love to you all - Dad

11/11/2005

An electrical time

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:21 pm

Mixed weather today. Playing quiet wallpaper music because I’m knackered. Herself has started a holiday and is crafting teeny-tiny gardens. Someone has just bought a pair of muddy gum-boots from her web-site. So she’s making them - to go in the post today. And there’s much, much more. Crumbs. The really bad news is that she was going off to see her Mum and Dad yesterday (ticket already paid for) when we got the 07.00 hrs phone call (always bad news at that time). Dad v. ill - don’t come. Dad still in a bad state. Herself v. concerned for Dad and also Mum, because, because. Nothing to do. One brother and wife both highly qualified Doctors. No way I can help her.

Too much excitement this week. Training and counselling job Tues. Year in Industry meetings all day Wed. and Thurs. Shattered.

Reading Henry’s blogs he didn’t say that years ago I took him to Brooklands as it was then pre-re-development(pre-WW2 motor racing circuit with a banked track and an aircraft runway across the middle) in a small, red MG sports car - and we rocketed down the runway with my foot flat on the floor. Then we drove over the small part of the old banked track that we could get to. No-one caught us. I’ll never forget that - or the fact that Henry didn’t scream once.

First electrical fact - I have a desk lamp that switches on just by touching a spot on the lamp - there’s no ’switch’. Just the electric contact between a human body and the lamp. Cool!

Next - I’m seriously fed up with my car battery new last year which is flat as a pancake. So the power line sneaks out from the front door and the battery charger is humming to restore its strength. I can’t be doing with car problems. I bought it. I paid for it. I drive it. So just keep doing what I paid for, why don’t you???

If you have something to discuss, never sit straight across the table from someone. Sit at 90 degrees. Not confrontational. Helps reaching a neutral agreement. Not everyone you have to deal with knows that. But you do. Take care - Dad

11/8/2005

Panic!

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:31 am

See new blog before last - ‘Not too good today’. shows the wrong date hence its wrong place. Don’t know how that happened! Dad

10/30/2005

Atomic time

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:38 pm

Sunday in Dorset. Dark clouds, wind squalls, lashing rain then sunshine. Repeat.

For her birthday I bought herself an atomic wrist watch run by some place somewhere by radio or whatever. It is always right to the milli-second. And changes when the hour changes. Terrifying. So she can now re-set every clock to the second. Frightening.

Who invented this weather? What is blair doing about it? Ooops - sorry - he and she are off again at our expense. Hampton Court Palace, yet!! I can tell he fancies it as his presidential equivalent to that French chappie’s place - what’s-his-name? Sounds like a sneeze with no hanky? Oh, yeah, Shirack!! an’ Versigh. Competition between kindigarden kids. BUT they use citizens’ money to play their ego-games. My money and your money. But no-one asked me to agree. Seems like financial rape and pillage to me. Do they know that as the P of Wales Edward VIIth used to post down to a Swiss Chalet looking building (lately a boat business place) just up the road from the Palace for a quick game of (real) billiards followed by a sweaty game of (personal) billiards? With gentle, warm, round, female people. (For 25 years I lived within a mile of all that. I know where the stories are.) Never-miss-a-trick blurs (or bliars). I’m a sick-to-my-stomach citizen. Yet again. So I’m lisnin’ ‘ere to de Chet Atkins - that man REALLY does it for me when I’m feeling fraught. The blurs / bliars are just a nasty taste in my mouth.

Herself is doing the teeny-tiny gardens like a ding-bat. I so respect her - I could never come up with the ideas she has and certainly could never carry them out in teeny-tiny scale. If it’s too small for a JCB - I’m stuck.

Well work’s piling up and I’m going to have to shave daily and dress up a lot shortly. Still, it keeps me out of mischief. Apart from that I’m trying to find someone to sort the front garden and am thinking about putting a porch outside the front door. You turn over one problem and another takes its place.

Then I have to see the Doc again in 3 weeks. Hmm. We’ll see what the verdict is. I suppose all old friends are one third comfortable and two thirds annoying. Dear John on his hill farm in Wales keeps asking me to visit and herd sheep / cut wood /pull bracken whilst walking up a 1,500 ft hill. He says it will do me good. I don’t want to die in Wales. So I keep not going there.

Nice to hear from you, Morts Mom. We love you and yours and wish you all an eventual end to your trouble. Julianna - if you can’t bring yourself to make the dolls house nursery - would you like us to build one for you? Got to keep the vision going, treasure.

Try some different wishes:
Wish for enough sun to lift your heart.
Wish for just enough rain to make you appreciate the sun.
Wish for enough happiness to lift your spirits.
Wish for just enough pain to make you appreciate the happiness you enjoy.
Wish for enough friendships to sustain you through to your end.

And have apeaceful week, my lovely friends - Dad

10/27/2005

Not too good today

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:10 pm

Gloomy old day. Went out at 08.00 to run an early training / personal coaching session all dolled up with a tie and everything. Back now before the rain and listening to Mark Knopfler CD ‘Sailing to Philadelphia’.

Two full days of meetings Wed and Thurs so I’ll feel dead by Friday! Herself working full days until Thurs (leaves home 07.15 returns 18.20!) then off to Kent to see unwell Dad & Mum. In preparation for this I had a thought-provoking meeting with a supplier of those electric ’scooters’ for disabled people. The things one learns! ‘Standard’ speed is walking-pace 4 mph. But some think this is too slow so there’s now one that does 6 mph so you have to run down the pavement to get to the shop before they do. And THEN there’s a 2 speed one - 4 and 8mph. At the ‘fast’ speed it can go on the road and is complete with lights, indicators - w.h.y. The GEM is that you need no licence to commit road carnage - and there is no requirement for insurance! So WATCH OUT!!

Meanwhile I feel lousy and have also managed to block both my ears so I can’t hear people talking. Ideal for work! Made appointment for ear syringe job next week after I see the Doc. I’m really not looking forward to any of that and fear what the Doc might say about results of latest blood test. Please keep things crossed for me next Tuesday.

Having advice from Henry about putting pics on site so I can show off teeny-tiny gardens and pic of Dad in kilt (not for the nervous viewer). Liked his new Pic Gallery and thought I looked very chipper on the boat. I enjoyed our phone chat, too, so that was nice.

Henry and I did differ over what should be done in France but as a Mediator I favour chatting over ‘batting’ people. But the initiative failed down here. We tried to set up a meeting with the group of adolescent morons who keep smashing things for fun. They hadn’t the guts for a chat, though. Says it all, really. Perhaps an IQ of 45 and a vocabulary of 5 foul words plus only 100 others with a maximum of 2 syllables doesn’t allow for much in the way of discussions?

I’ve had another record broken. Having whinged about how often I’ve asked for ‘answerson a used bank note’ - I’ve finally been sent one! The fact that the note was issued by the ‘Esti Pank’ and is for 2 ‘Kaks Krooni’ does not prevent me from welcoming it with open arms! Thank you - whoever you are! Any learned blogger who can identify the country of origin is welcome to let me know where it is - on another used bank note for preference! (Thinks - how long can I keep this scam going?) And what was written on the prized note? ‘The Answer is 42′. All students of the Hitchhiker’s guide - - will understand this at once.

To those who’ve tried www.parapluesch.de and become hooked on trying to cure the 4 abused cuddly toys, I gave in and bought Kroko. A lovely neurotic crocodile with mad eyes clutching his ‘comfort / security pillow’ to him. With him came ‘Doctor’s Notes’ about his condition and future treatment. It’s all a gorgeous complex intelligent gag and I’d love to meet the person who created it. If you haven’t tried it yet - give it a go!

That seems to be about it for now. ‘What if - -?’ is a great question when preparing for something. But it can ruin your life to think it all the time. So just for today set fear aside and enjoy the world, the people and creatures in it and the many small pleasure it has to offer. A half-full glass is much better than a half-empty one. Cheers all - Dad

Oh dear!

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:10 pm

Bright, warm, sunlit day here. Wonderful weather. Playing Chet Atkins. Aaah.

Of course, as I’m typing this in Dorset I was supposed to be flying a Tiger Moth over Surrey. Herself and I should have stayed at a Country Mansion Hotel last night, one Malt Whisky (The Balvenie since they sent me a free bottle) because I’m flying, a good dinner, a luxury room - then the Full English and no cooking or washing up. Heaven!! But it was cancelled. Weather forecast too dodgy and they wouldn’t want me to spend all that money on travel / hotel etc to be told at the last minute ‘Sorry, old son’. They were very nice about it. I can re-book in January for a date starting in April 2006. When I told a very old mate of mine about the gift last Christmas he sent a gorgeous greetings card with a big 3D Tiger Moth on it (he’s an aircraft nerd with a HUGE collection of small models covering every plane ever modelled) so I kept that on the mantlepiece to remind me of the treat in store. Having unpacked the bag, put the old silk scarf and RAF flying gloves back in the drawer, the card is back up there again - till next time. Still, it’s something for which to live and to which to look forward. There will be life after 1/1/06.

Read Henry’s blog with interest. If you missed my recent letter in the DT - here it is:
‘I have travelled extensively and was trained to accept the culture of the land which was my host. We proclaim that Britain is a multicultural society but that is a two way street. I have to accept Muslim women in a form of dress that I accept abroad but find troubling in my own country. So Muslims will have to accept that we have piggy banks and piggy cartoons and piggy jokes. To accept them, they must accept us. And the sooner ‘them and us’ ends, the better.’ Well you can’t argue with that, can you?

As for ‘Cherie’ who thinks she is more first lady than a REAL lady who has more unassuming ‘lady’ in her little finger than lumpy Ch in her whole body and what passes for mind, I truly question Henry’s judgement. Why is he so liberal / lenient? Has the New Labour insidious 1984-ing of us all finally got to him? Where’s his assertiveness gone? His defiance in the face of obscene imposition by extremely horrible people? Only one Boeing? I worry about the younger generation.

Which segues into the total shambles of this ghastly government and the awful damage done to our country day by day. They couldn’t run a piss-up in a BIG brewery and can’t find their collective arses with a piece of Euro approved toilet paper. What do they mean, we can’t ban bird imports into our country unless the EU agrees? WHAT??? If all this keeps on I think the Asian / Afro riot in B’ham will be a small domestic dispute compared to what could well happen if English (There ain’t no Britain no more. Teflon Tony smashed it after a few hundred successful years) people finally say ‘We’ve had enough, mate, get back down into the hole you’ve earned’. And pour in the concrete after him / them. And stamp it down.

Well, after that mild polemic I move on to positive stuff. I’ve bought a new navy blue double breasted blazer BUT it has gilt buttons and I want black ones with anchors on. They’re out there somewhere. I’ll find them. Any good ideas?

Having fun helping Herself with the teeny-tiny garden business. Directory publisher called and said - ‘Buy advertising’. My flesh puckers at the word ‘buy’. ‘Send info’ I say. It comes. So I phone a selection of people with adverts in there. Oh, my. This went wrong. That happened. We were invoiced when we didn’t place an ad. I had to speak to the MD to get this sorted. Seems like a ‘No’ to me. But when I told her she got seriously aggressive with me. Since I teach all this stuff I sat back and tracked her script. Why do people think I’m an idiot? They’re going to hate the e-mail, fax and recorded dly. letter explaining ‘No’ and certain aspects of commercial and contract law. Phew. How can people like this still exist today? Answers on a used bank note please.

Incidentally, considering how often I’ve said that why has no-one yet sent me a single used bank note? I just can’t figure out human kind.

So - Mort’s Mom - hope all as well as it can be. And sweet Julainna thanks for the note - but KEEP UP THERE! Now listen, treasure - however the cards play you can build / decorate / complete a dolls house nursery with all the bits WITHOUT beating yourself up or having bad thoughts or anything. So it’s a model. It’s as nice as you want it to be. Click on the US site on our web site for a big range of lovely stuff. Making a model is neither a celebration nor a wake. Just an expression of your feelings.

Have you ever thought - it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire lifetime to forget them.

We should think kindly of the many people in our past - but please think kindly of me. Dad

10/20/2005

No - another one!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:27 pm

Sun shining today and Herself being busy. Had two lovely e mail compliments about her teeny-tiny things. That’s nice. Playing Ladysmith Black Mambazo to myself.

Now join me in encouraging Henry’s book - all we can. He and the lesser world need it. And keep a private moment for when he is swept into the Windmill.

Checked out his complaint about the Basingstoke Canal and sent him a copy. Could be OK by next Spring.

Oh, the result? ANOTHER cheque for £100 plus flowers for Herself. Why are these silly people so silly? How many more cheques must I win in order to make them re-think how they mess about with us all?

If the weather is OK I’m flying the Tiger Moth next week. Offer up a thought for the people underneath. Actually if I can do a Rate 1 Turn without the nose dropping below the horizon I’ll be seriously happy.

Spent yesterday teaching / encouraging people not to wind up customers on the phone. It’s all about perception. My perception is my reality. That works for all of us. But suppose our perception is wrong?

There’s too much about which to think.

Now, then, Julianna my treasure - how you doin’ dere? We’re all still caring for you. And Mort’s Mom - are you OK now?

Think of life as a log. Saw it off a piece at a time. You can’t use the whole log just today. But you can use that slice in so many different ways. So think - what did you do with the slice today? Love - Dad

10/13/2005

A result or two

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:01 pm

Dull, cool day here today. Wrapped up warm and went to the Post Office wearing the Hoody. The suggestion was made that if crinklies like me took to wearing Hoodies they would become seriously un-cool so the yobs would stop wearing them. Well, I’m doing my best unlike blair and all his atrocious gov’t. Fascinating to see how many things he’s talked about since 1997 all of which have got worse or just not happened. Perhaps my spam messages offering duff Rolex watches and sundry suspect medicaments originate from 10 Downing Street? It would be in character - which is NOT the right word to use about them all.

Playing ‘In the wee small hours’ s-m-o-o-t-h 3 in the morning jazz. Cor, takes me back to my mispent yoof playin’ de drums in a seedy Soho Club. Funny, I could stay awake all night then. Now I’m done by 10 at the latest. Funny thing, life.

So what about these results, then? Well, up until last week I held an Unbroken Record!! In many years of writing the occasional elegantly crafted, humorous or statesmanlike as appropriate, cogent and compelling letter to the Daily Telegraph I had never, ever, had one published. I used to number them and gave up at 200. Too demoralising. This despite my writing skills being good enough to be paid by the aforesaid DT to write articles back in the distant past. So desperate was I that I thought I would change my name to Frederick Forsyth (who he?) who apparently has squatter’s rights to a weekly published letter. His command of English is rubbish compared to mine. And he often wrote (badly) about the self-same subject as that upon which I had already penned a crystalline masterpeice. Then it happened! My letter appeared dead centre beneath the cartoon! I’ve arrived!! Orgasmic joy!!! On the other hand (in life, there’s ALWAYS an ‘other hand’) I no longer hold a record. For every glee there’s a squelch. I can’t complain any more. Soddit.

BUT lo & verily (purveyors of scratchy underwear to the carrigae trade) on the SAME DAY did I receive an e mail advising of ANOTHER result. I am fond of Malt Whisky. And in the above DT there are frequent ad’s for The Balvenie which is a wickedly good Malt. The ad’s consist of a photo of a bottle, a chunk of blurb - and a pen-drawn character saying something clever. And each comment appears only once. So they spun an ad asking fanatics to enter a competition to write a comment for the pen character. Winners get a bottle of 12 year old s-m-o-o-t-h Balvenie. You’re there first, aren’t you? YUP, won one - and it arrived today. Blessed is The Balvenie and double-blessed when it’s FREE!!!!!!

On the other hand (see above) saw the Doc this week. Added a new pill to my little collection. Said ‘Fasting blood test 2 weeks from now’ ‘ Yes Doc’ ‘ See me again as soon as results back’ ‘Yes Doc’. As I’ve said before he’s brilliant and we’ve known each other for 20 years. A positive gem. Now I have something to worry about that I didn’t have before I saw him. Why? What? Where next?

The real joke is about the new pill. Took prescription into chemist and chatted to pharmacist whom I know well. I asked how he was. That will give you some idea of how off the planet I am. He came back with the big bag of pills and said, looking serious, ‘You haven’t had these before.’ True. ‘You have to take them at night when you go to bed.’ ‘So the Doc said.’ ‘Well there’s a small side effect. If you get up after taking them you will probably fall over in a dead faint. But don’t worry.’ Suddenly the term ‘dead’ faint took on a whole new meaning. And for you youngsters, with advancing years, one does, indeed, get up and visit the smallest room during the course of the night. So how can I do that whilst missing the radiator and my bedside cabinet with my head on the way down? So many worries.

Lovely to hear from you Julianna. Hang in there sweetheart. Herself is expanding her empire further around the globe and now has a distributor in Italy. I’ve offered to hand deliver stock to her. Personally. Privately. Herself gave me one of her looks, so perhaps it’s a bad idea? Any advice welcome.

I read a quote in the paper which was attributed to Winston Churchill. ‘Success is moving from failure to failure without losing your enthusiasm’ Well it works for me. Love to all - Dad

10/11/2005

A troubling day

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:36 am

Mild shirt sleeve weather here, and playing Country Music on de machine.

Saw the Doc this morning. Blood test in 2 weeks and then the Doc again after that. Life’s a bxr.

Now we’re not exactly HUGE plc here, right? So how come we get about 80 - 100 spam rubbish e mails EVERY DAY? And how can I stop it? And who are the perverts that do this stuff? How can I stop them?

Here’s a sample:

‘Semen production increases 500% complete no-quibble guarantee’ Their use of the English language is pathetic. Suely he must mean a ‘no-DRIBBLE guarantee’? Where is all this extra semen going? I worry about this.

‘Inexpensive Viagara’. Now I know what Viagara does. Imagine the wear and tear on your clothing of walking around for a couple of days with a flagpole where a nice, cosy, curly little chap used to be? The ointment! The cleaning! And imagine what it will cost to buy the dinners / drinks / hotel rooms for the poor deluded lady who has to cope with an irreducible and rather boring problem - assuming she retains her sense of humour and perspective.

Then there’s ‘Now cheaper - Proven SPUR-M formula’. My Father was in the Royal Army Veterinary Corps and wore spurs on his boots. But he never used them on the horse he loved so much. I imagine that an ‘M’ shaped spur means the ‘v’ of the M spur is around the boot-heel and the two lower legs are two spurs. Now that strikes me as unfair and unkind. I don’t want a pair of those - cheap or not.

Then there’s ‘Get it up again and again until you’re too sore to carry on’. This can only refer to a competitiion for raising and lowering your National flag as often as you can in a given period of time. What a weird competition!!

I was confused by ‘Shoot 5 times as much’. That can only mean using a machine gun rather that a rifle. But there’s no skill in volume rather than accuracy, surely?

So you will understand that ‘Two days of great sex for under $5′ had me confused. Just keeping her fed and watered would cost more than that. Unless it was aimed at women - which is another complaint. None of this spam seems aimed at women. Now that’s not fair.

This one troubled me: ‘What every man has been looking for - I’ve always been worried about the size of my penis’. When I was a young man I was looking for a decent Jaguar at a price I could afford. As to my personal friend I learned that women were built for that. I stopped worying and they all seemed quite comfortable. So what’s the problem?

If anyone can tell me how to stop this stupid and disgusting rubbish infesting my computer every day - please, oh please, tell me.

A final word? Even fools are entitled to their lives. Let us suffer them gladly - but not for too long. Love to all - Dad

10/5/2005

A diamond find

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:17 pm

Right, said he grimly, today I will start the great fight-back against heaps of paper. Such fun! Two bins worth later - which gave rise to severe attacks of ‘Oh, I never wrote / phoned / visited - Aaargh’ I realised I had not bought the frame for the Certrificate that says I am a Laird of Glencairn. I bet you didn’t know that.

When my kilt shrunk unaccounbtably some years ago I was v. sorry. The trim-as-a-whippet shape would return. Eventually. I gave in this year and bought the two new kilts and the smart jacket and that. Beloved Herself saw this with an understanding eye as our beloved women cast upon us and said - ‘OK, sunshine’. So now I’m an official Laird. Next year, the Dorset Highland Games. Throwing the Grockle (local term for holiday visitors). Drain the flute (clear the restaurant of certain bottles) Pull your pudding (a form of rope pulling using the nether parts of an unsupecting visitor eating naff ice cream.) Well it works for me. Could I get a Euro grant as a member of a minority (lunatic part Scotsperson in Dorset)? It might work!!

Love to all of you but especially Julianna - yeah, baby - and Morts Mom. We’re here for you. How’s it going?

We all have people we should have contacted - but didn’t. So we feel really bad. I phoned very old friends in France yesterday. They were so pleased to hear from me and we talked for ages. Go on - TODAY contact someone you’ve left out. They’ll be so pleased and you’ll feel so good. It beats having a seaweed bath. Love - Dad

10/1/2005

Let’s hear it for Mort’s Mom

Filed under: — Dad @ 10:37 am

Mort’s Mom posted such a kind and wise comment on my blog about obnoxious Granny. It helped me a lot. So I read with much concern her comment on my last blog.

Mort’s Mom - we’re all of us here for you, sweetheart. However black it looks from where you’re crumpled, there is a not-too-small light of hope and love from us all. (And, no, it’s not the lights of a train coming towards you through the tunnel - now, now!)

I truly understand your feelings about hospitals. My life-experience has been very mixed. In 1955 I spent a whole year in hospital with TB. Things were different then and Nurses wore starched pinnies and hats. They also knew exactly what they were doing and did it well. Since then I’ve had good stuff - my G.P. literally saved my life by getting me into hospital in a couple of hours when I went to see him about a very minor routine event and he picked up a major problem I didn’t know I had. I’ve had awful stuff for myself when in the hospital then and when trying to help my other son - not Henry. He was a walking dead man when I rescued him. Terrifying. So I know exactly what you’ve been going through.

I gather from Mort’s blog that MD is Dad. I understand you can’t deal with this and feel torn to bits by it all. But somehow you will. No-one can solve all the problems in one go so it’s one step at a time. The trouble is it takes a lot of emotional strength to keep calmly dealing with obstructive, patronising jobs-worths who stone-wall you or try to get you out of their hair because you’re a nuisance to them. Draw strength from the rest of us, Mom. Imagine a whole pack of people who care for you, each giving you a bit of strength to keep fighting for what you know is right - however perverted the ’system’ or people you have to deal with. It’s very difficult for them to deal with someone who sits tight and says, politely, ‘I hear what you say but it’s not what I need’ - or words like that. You need iron guts to keep doing that which is why you need all our guts to help you. Remember - they count on you giving up when faced with a brick wall. They’re in deep strife if you don’t recognise brick walls. Hopefully, you’ll get them climbing one!! You’re right - and whatever their name or title, they’re wrong.

I can feel your pain and understand you feel you can’t deal with this. One step at a time. One battle at a time. One ‘win’ at a time. Keep your chin up, Mom. We’re all here for you. And we wish you and Dad the best in the world. With love from Dad. Please keep me / us posted.

9/30/2005

Joy and a bit

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:28 pm

Well, it’s grey, raining and ‘orribble. BUT I’m playing the double CD of ’secret music’ jazz sent by a nice person for no money. So that’s OK then.

Henry phoned me. That was great. I love the silly bugger so much.

Herself is fired up with ideas for Christmas items in the teeny-tiny world. Meanwhile, in the day job, there’s a major drama in the lavatory area and 300 people have 2 lavatories to use. Well I’m glad I’m not there.

A short blog today - but - a day that passes without learning anything is a day lost. So what will you learn today? Even if you didn’t like it. Love to all - Dad

9/24/2005

On the other hand

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:38 pm

Well, thanks for such powerful support as I have received from dear Julianna, Henry, O’Mally and Mort’s Mom. It’s wot u sed wot dunnit. Bless you. ‘Granny’s’ snide comment says more about him/her than ever I could.

So if you’re wrong - do the other thing. I intended a short break from the blog but clearly you think I shouldn’t run for cover. So I won’t.

Mild, warm sunny weather here. Playing Country music. Herself is making up a DIY Snowman kit for her dolls house customers and I’m still battling with how to have walls made (50 at a time) for her garden beds. Don’t ask! I’m learning things I didn’t know I needed to know, wozzit.

The DVD project has lurched forward somewhat. I have a business account at my local PC World and have to say that the staff there are super. I don’t get ‘processed’. They know my name, we speak together as friends, they nudge me towards the best way to do things. I could get so hooked I’d go there every day for a ‘friendship fix’!! So for a mere £1,500 I could make the kind of DVD I need to make. First catch the cash cache. So how many DVD’s must I sell to come out ahead and how can I do it? Answers on a used bank note please.

It’s so nice to see the various birds drinking and bathing in the bird bath. It’s really great.

Now would a Dadblog pass without a mild reference to el-tonio and macg-the-money? Our growth is rubbish and he’s been forced to conceed. The Labour-sacrosanct NHS is closing wards / op. theatres / firing staff with twice the money. Seriously, please God deliver us from these sham idiots who are DESTROYING our Nation and love themsleves so much - you can see the pics every day.

OK, so Dad’s reversed course and is back in play - thanks to you. Sticking to Plan A needs commitment. Changing to Plan B requires even more commitment to accept that Plan A was wrong. So many disputes between people or organisations continue because people stick to plan A. As a Mediator, my role is to show that moving from Plan A to a modified Plan B is not a failure - it can lead to a success. Take care, my friends - Dad

9/23/2005

Thank you and goodnight

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:23 pm

I have no idea who Granny might be but her/his comments about me are so unlike comments posted by other blog friends. I find them vindictive and spiteful. So I’m faced with a choice between three ways to go. Ignore them, attack them or quit. I’m not normally a quitter so it’s very difficult to make the choice between ‘equal’ alternatives.

Frankly, I don’t need the spite or the grief. And I will not accept snide cracks about my wife. Granny has a sick mind and I feel sorry for her children and grandchildren - assuming Granny is, indeed, anyone’s granny which I doubt.

So I’m closing my blog site for now. Simon, you might like to figure out who Granny is. And whether (s)he should have access in future.

Sleep well, friends. I’ve much enjoyed your company and hope to return when this pest has desisted or left.

Forgiveness is a rich blessing - but for some sins there can be no forgiveness.

Farewell for now - Dad

Confused - but on a higher plane

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:56 pm

For a start - Julianna, sweetheart, how are you? Bunches and clumps of people thinking and hoping for you. Come back when you want to.

Funny day here - some rain, some sun, muggy weather. Kenny Rogers playing.

Been to PC World to agree a spec for another pc for the mini-network. Need to record DVD’s with a mix of inputs. They are just so nice there. New pc + software coming any time now.

Long chats with with old chum in Wales. We’ve been through the wars together (I taught him his stuff) We’re both having a really bad time. We don’t deserve it. But there’s only us to sort it.

Who this Granny person, then? I love my children to bits - but I can’t just uplift and drive to Surrey. It’s not that easy. Which is why you won’t find me at the rock-in in New Haw. Sorry about that - BUT. Have a (big) one for me.

Reviewing this blog it’s pathetic. I have to face the Doc in three weeks. I have to do this ‘n that. I wake up each morning filled with fear. Please may I be able to make some DVD’s that explain my mind and soul. Perhaps then I can leave a decent legacy for my life.

Life is a balance. For every ‘down’ there’s an ‘up’. Please, dear God, grant me the peace of balance. And please, my blog friends, don’t imagine that was lightly said.

Granny - I love my son. Don’t ever imagine otherwise. But what I may do is constrained in various ways. Please gift me the beneficence of your understanding. Dad

9/22/2005

Another day - another problem

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:36 pm

Yes, well, the machine is acting up so I can’t play music. Computery is a bugger.

I’ve got ‘the man’ in again to complete stage ‘n’ on the bathroom reconstruction project. But he’s a good guy.

Now, I’m becoming deeply troubled about the identity of ‘Granny’. Acerbic; cutting; not Granny-like at all. I conclude it’s a mask for a person who wants to de-stabilise our world. Hmm. It makes us think.

You get much further with sugar than with vinegar. Almost 40% of what someone else gets from a communication comes from the tone of your voice. So use a good tone, why not? Dad

9/21/2005

So many good people

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:13 am

After a cold start it’s warm and sunny now. Eva Cassidy playing. The day started badly with me in a two & eight (Cockney rhyming slang) and that didn’t settle for a while. Meanwhile I’ve got ‘the man’ in who arrived at 8 am and has spent hours with his head in the bathroom plumbing and other complex questions. But he’s a really nice guy. And has STANDARDS. That does it for me.

Does anyone know anything about making DVD’s? I’ve been asked if I can make some - for training purposes, not entertainment - so of course I said ‘Yes, Guv.’ Now I have to do it. We used to produce CD’s and had a mini-factory producing copies - but this DVD needs to be a mixture of live-to-camera, still pics, voice over, PowerPoint and a bit of Word. Oh, and music. Anyone any ideas what kit I need to do this?

Iraq is clearly going down the tubes big-time and teeny-tiny-tony should be carryinbg the can - but I bet he sidesteps it. Devious sod. The old chestnut about legal matters or, indeed, anything interesting says ‘never ask a question to which you do not already know the answer.’ When teeny-tiny-tony’s balls got bigger than his head (a challenge, indeed) why didn’t he say ‘before we start this thing how are we going to end it?’ WHO THE xxxx keeps voting for a self-interested lunatic? Truly, honestly, I have asked all sorts of people over the past few years ‘who voted for this xxxxx?’ No-one has ever said ‘Me’ He - and his cronies - are self-obsessed turds.

Got to go - ‘the man’ needs a mug of tea and a conference about the real meaning of plumbing. Feel sorry for me.

BUT - let’s get stroppy. Why should decent 70 plus years old people be forced into jail because teeny-tiny-tony and grab-their-purses gordon want to pursue a vendetta against decent people? And when they come out of what will be an horrific experience - they will STILL owe the money. Now THAT can’t be right.

What the Hell does it take to make normal, decent people rise up and say ’stop it, you wankers!’ Or does no-one care?

Yours, moodily, Dad

9/17/2005

Oh dear!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:28 pm

Bright, warm, sunlit day here. Wonderful weather. Playing Chet Atkins. Aaah.

Of course, as I’m typing this in Dorset I was supposed to be flying a Tiger Moth over Surrey. Herself and I should have stayed at a Country Mansion Hotel last night, one Malt Whisky (The Balvenie since they sent me a free bottle) because I’m flying, a good dinner, a luxury room - then the Full English and no cooking or washing up. Heaven!! But it was cancelled. Weather forecast too dodgy and they wouldn’t want me to spend all that money on travel / hotel etc to be told at the last minute ‘Sorry, old son’. They were very nice about it. I can re-book in January for a date starting in April 2006. When I told a very old mate of mine about the gift last Christmas he sent a gorgeous greetings card with a big 3D Tiger Moth on it (he’s an aircraft nerd with a HUGE collection of small models covering every plane ever modelled) so I kept that on the mantlepiece to remind me of the treat in store. Having unpacked the bag, put the old silk scarf and RAF flying gloves back in the drawer, the card is back up there again - till next time. Still, it’s something for which to live and to which to look forward. There will be life after 1/1/06.

Read Henry’s blog with interest. If you missed my recent letter in the DT - here it is:
‘I have travelled extensively and was trained to accept the culture of the land which was my host. We proclaim that Britain is a multicultural society but that is a two way street. I have to accept Muslim women in a form of dress that I accept abroad but find troubling in my own country. So Muslims will have to accept that we have piggy banks and piggy cartoons and piggy jokes. To accept them, they must accept us. And the sooner ‘them and us’ ends, the better.’ Well you can’t argue with that, can you?

As for ‘Cherie’ who thinks she is more first lady than a REAL lady who has more unassuming ‘lady’ in her little finger than lumpy Ch in her whole body and what passes for mind, I truly question Henry’s judgement. Why is he so liberal / lenient? Has the New Labour insidious 1984-ing of us all finally got to him? Where’s his assertiveness gone? His defiance in the face of obscene imposition by extremely horrible people? Only one Boeing? I worry about the younger generation.

Which segues into the total shambles of this ghastly government and the awful damage done to our country day by day. They couldn’t run a piss-up in a BIG brewery and can’t find their collective arses with a piece of Euro approved toilet paper. What do they mean, we can’t ban bird imports into our country unless the EU agrees? WHAT??? If all this keeps on I think the Asian / Afro riot in B’ham will be a small domestic dispute compared to what could well happen if English (There ain’t no Britain no more. Teflon Tony smashed it after a few hundred successful years) people finally say ‘We’ve had enough, mate, get back down into the hole you’ve earned’. And pour in the concrete after him / them. And stamp it down.

Well, after that mild polemic I move on to positive stuff. I’ve bought a new navy blue double breasted blazer BUT it has gilt buttons and I want black ones with anchors on. They’re out there somewhere. I’ll find them. Any good ideas?

Having fun helping Herself with the teeny-tiny garden business. Directory publisher called and said - ‘Buy advertising’. My flesh puckers at the word ‘buy’. ‘Send info’ I say. It comes. So I phone a selection of people with adverts in there. Oh, my. This went wrong. That happened. We were invoiced when we didn’t place an ad. I had to speak to the MD to get this sorted. Seems like a ‘No’ to me. But when I told her she got seriously aggressive with me. Since I teach all this stuff I sat back and tracked her script. Why do people think I’m an idiot? They’re going to hate the e-mail, fax and recorded dly. letter explaining ‘No’ and certain aspects of commercial and contract law. Phew. How can people like this still exist today? Answers on a used bank note please.

Incidentally, considering how often I’ve said that why has no-one yet sent me a single used bank note? I just can’t figure out human kind.

So - Mort’s Mom - hope all as well as it can be. And sweet Julainna thanks for the note - but KEEP UP THERE! Now listen, treasure - however the cards play you can build / decorate / complete a dolls house nursery with all the bits WITHOUT beating yourself up or having bad thoughts or anything. So it’s a model. It’s as nice as you want it to be. Click on the US site on our web site for a big range of lovely stuff. Making a model is neither a celebration nor a wake. Just an expression of your feelings.

Have you ever thought - it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but an entire lifetime to forget them.

We should think kindly of the many people in our past - but please think kindly of me. Dad

9/15/2005

What a funny old life!

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:52 pm

Showers and gusty wind on a dull day here in Dorset. Chet Atkins ‘Sails’ playing to calm my soul. So what’s new?

Herself enjoying growing renown in international sales - an order from Singapore yesterday! I would regard it as the cherry on the cake if her teeny-tiny wonder-bits could sell just one or two to China - which is where all the volume Dolls House bits and pieces are made! US of A contact v. pleased with samples (paid for) and with my designs for ‘The Heartland Range’ of American-themed gardens and stuff including a paved surround pond in the shape of mainland USA complete with goldfish, plants, water lillies. BUT, would you believe it, one potential buyer of a pond (scale 1 inch = 1 foot) asked if the goldfish were live!!!!! Latest project has been to design a set of ‘in-miniature Gnomes’ to be supplied with paints and a brush to DIY your own Dolls House Garden Gnomes. All this creativity is quite exhausting. Thank God for it though. Helps to keep me sane.

Meanwhile what is happening to our economy? The New-Lab Spin M/c keeps telling us that IT’S ALL WONDERFUL!! el-presidente blair and extreme left-winger control-freak brown (no caps. req’d) keep cooing how lovely it is under their thumb (= boots / whip). But it’s not. Wherever I go I talk to people about business. How are things with you? Rubbish is the answer. And the poor old population have discovered that brown has picked their pockets to such a degree that they have to pull in their (spending) horns. Hmm. brown is slightly to the left of Stalin and refuses to understand (didn ‘e go twa uni, then, wozzit?) that the private sector makes money. The public sector makes nothing but spends money (in a disgustingly wasteful and inefficient way) stolen from the private sector and the people. So if you screw the private sector and the people - you’ve just screwed yourself.

There is NO EXAMPLE anywhere in the world of the public sector running anything more efficiently than the private sector. Governments should neither own nor run things, they should do simple things like Defence of the Realm (first priority for any National Government) and organise things for the private sector to run for the satisfaction of the people. Anyone (with names starting with ‘b’ spring to mind) who doesn’t understand this is acting against the interests of the Nation’s Citizens.

How much longer will people put up with the wilfull destruction of their Nation, their economy and their lives? Answers on a used bank note please (Note public-sector approach to this issue. If you won’t send me a bank note - why agree to have it stolen from you by a Labour apparatchik?)

I can’t bear seeing my Nation destroyed.

So, hi there Julianna - please look at the web site www.in-miniature.com (no click-link on this blog I’m afraid) and order a small something. Even if you have no Dolls House you might keep it on your desk, on your bookshelf, wherever. We’d like to send it to you (free, of course) so you have a special memory of all the people who care for you. Or mail me at windsor@power-base.co.uk because you’re wrapped in care.

For the rest of us? Excellence is not an act, but a habit. Lift your personal standards and you lift your mental approach to your life. For a start, never go out wearing dirty shoes. Even if you are going to dig a ditch - you can start off with clean boots. Then work your way up from there. Nothing does more for your confidence and self-esteem than knowing that how you look and how you work makes a statement about who you really are. Have a peaceful night and a valuable tomorrow - Dad

9/13/2005

Create a new world

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:58 am

Well, Henry’s blog lit a few rockets. I think he’s right in princple - the problem is the reality. By the way, I spent a very character-forming year in a Sanatorium with TB which was, indeed, known as ‘consumption’. The wasting and debiltating effect of TB is about equal to the similar effects of consumption today.

We face a huge problem. The planning assumptions made following the second world war REQUIRE people to use a car because the living / working / shopping / pleasure areas have been deliberately kept apart. Imagine a nice, decent, married couple with two kids. An image that should be standard for our country. It is simply IMPOSSIBLE for them to go to work; take kids to school and bring them back; take them to ‘clubs’ or hobbies; shop at the supermarket without the independent flexibility of a car. It can’t be done by public transport. They have no bxxxxy choice. So to make an alternative model work we have to overcome 50 years of planning assumptions. Can’t be done in an afternoon.

Alternative energy forms are a good idea. Biomass is good stuff. Wind farms are stupid, gross and destroy the environment. Anyway, when the wind won’t blow - or blows too much - back-up capacity is needed so the whole thing’s useless.

O’Mally is right to seek a slower pace - as has Prince Charles. Somehow we have to think the unthinkable and make a paradigm shift of how we live. Work within walking distance. Shop at the end of the road. Holiday nearby. So how can we achieve that objective?

Today’s thought? You know many people are worse off than you are. But that doesn’t lessen the pain you feel. Pluck a small blossom from today - a smile from a stranger, a joke with a shopkeeper, a moment’s chat with a neighbour - and remember how lucky you are. Love to you all - Dad

Dear Henry

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:37 am

Thanks for unmasking yourself as the ’secret Trouty’. I hope that my explanation has reassured you of my sanity!! Dad

9/12/2005

Same old, same old

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:00 pm

Sunshine and more Eva Cassidy. I can’t seem to get out of my downbeat mental groove. Pig miserable old grouch.

Why does the world never learn? Obscenity in London, in Iraq, in Palestine / Gaza, in Northern Ireland. Man’s obscenity to man. That’s bad enough, but for any man to offer obscenity to a woman or a child is gross beyond belief. Every ‘man’ with those testicular hanging lumps should move AT ONCE to protect and shield any and every woman or child from any harm. Anyway you look at it, it’s getting worse. Now the Muslims want to blank out remembrance of the extreme obscenity offered to the Jews in the Holocaust. Six plus million decent, ordinary, normal people wiped out brutally. But ‘religion’ demands that that utterly gross and extreme act be subsumed. Why should Muslims imagine that trying to force me to forget obscenity on a massive scale will make me think better of them? I struggle to maintain a balance in my views of people. But some make it almost impossible for me.

The only surprise about N.Ireland is that it took until now to happen. The IRA and their political twin sister are barbarian terrorists. What on earth is our unloved and pathetic el-presidente doing giving in and giving in and giving in to terrorists? Letting murderers out of jail who should have been hanged or shot. Throwing away noble Irish Army Regiments. Forcing the Police Force to its knees. No wonder London was bombed because blair has so many levels of craven lack of belief he’s a caricature.

So moving on - thanks to Julianna because I am now equal with my wife whose teeny-tiny gardens have been described as ‘awesome’ by people in the US of A. Now you think I’m awesome. My wife and I are quits!! You are doing what I asked you to do, aren’t you? Answer on a used bank note please.

We’re delving into the mysteries of laser-cut plant leaves and other exciting discoveries. Cor blimey, Guv’nor.

Continuing sanity requires a Plan B. Yesterday has gone - wallop. Tomorrow is a fresh page. All we have is the here-and-now. So from time to time the wheels will come off tomorrow. Time for Plan B. Love to you all - Dad

9/10/2005

Hey Julianna and the world

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:48 pm

Warm, muggy and occasional rain today. More Eva Cassidy. I’ve been helping Herself with her teeny-tiny stuff and am trying to design a dolls house sized DIY dog kennel with my new CAD CAM software. This way madness lies. But I’ll (gibber, gibber) do it (honest, Guvnor) if it kills me (but not today, please) wozit. I’m thinking of taking up brain surgery as a softer option.

Julianna - you’re serene and wonderful, bringing quiet joy to so many people. Look in that mirror, girl, and know that so many people are rooting for you. Let’s both have an objective for the week to come. This weekend will be tranquil and quiet. By next Friday we will both have achieved one important thing each day. And having done so, will allow ourselves a lift of our spirit and the knowledge that others are silently wishing us both well.

The doubtful-trouty has not so far identified himslef to me. Well, life seems to include perverts and other human dross. Look, foul person, you sought to cause a rift betwixt me and the Real and Redoubtable Trouty (to whom I send much love). So put your person where your slurred finger-tapping was and meet me. OK, prat? Or have you no nether appendages possessed by most men?

Meanwhile there’s a conflux of stimultaion here. F1 to which we are both addicted - manic manufacture of teent-tiny garden stuff being bought by the bargeload - creative preparation for an Autumn series of Training Courses I have to deliver - and on, and on. Phew.

I can’t wait for lunch.

Why not win one new friend each day next week. Not necessarily someone to invite for dinner, but just someone who will smile when they next meet you. We can do that. With my love - Dad

9/9/2005

Thanks, folks

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:08 pm

Deepest Dorset - a sea-fog this morning - a full-sun day just now. Playing Eva Cassidy again.
So thank you all for your kind thoughts. They lifted me.

Dear Trouty - thank you for telling me it wasn’t you. Will the spoof trouty (no capital T needed) please advise me of the date / time / location of his (because it would never be a ‘her’) arrival in Poole so that the small group of over-excited guys with the blunt instruments can meet you. Or - worse - me. You toad. I bet you haven’t the bxxxx to meet me, have you? You pitiful sod.

Well, things aren’t going too well. Herself has small delights and some problems. I’m crushed under a burden of distress today. Hence Eva Cassidy.

My friends have moved to a new house. He and their son are delighted - she is destroyed by leaving the last house to which she was wedded. How the Hell can I help her?

I’m trying to get Europe (that lot of peasants over the water) linked together in a Training Site. What? Seriously hopeless. So why should I try? Answers on a used bank note please.

I don’t think I should be doing this. BUT - you are what you are seen to be. Dress for the image you want to convey or the next job you want to get. Cheers all - Dad

8/31/2005

Sorry about that

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:03 am

Oh dear, Trouty, I’m so sorry I upset you - or, indeed, anyone. I count blog members as private friends.

I only deliberately set out to upset the idiots and jobsworths we meet in life (so THAT’s where Henry gets it from!) and anyone who has anything to do with a Government that has done more to destroy our Nation in the long years they have abused their power than any politician over the last century. Labour party twisters paid by the Government and having power over Civil Servants? A blair who avoids Parliament like the plague (see his attendance record) and announces things to the media before telling MP’s? A brown who pops up with the idea of abolishing the figure of Britannia on our coinage without so much as a by-your-leave? Breathtaking arrogance. Monstrous lunacy. That is merely a minor, limited and unbiased observation, you understand.

You see, when writing to close friends I have acquired, over the years, certain habits. I usually refer to ‘trousis’ not trousers (if I have to talk about nether garments at all). It started as a ‘language joke’ decades ago and gained substance (literally, I suppose) when the term ‘trouser chicken’ was invented. Imagine - in France, a Summer’s day, visit the market to buy fresh fruit, salad, cheese, bread, w.h.y. for the impending picnic lunch beneath leafy shade beside the gently flowing river. ‘Oh, look!’ A fresh chicken stall with chickens spit-roasting. Just the thing! So we bought one for lunch. Herself has the bag with the other goodies in, I’m carrying the chicken briefly wrapped in geaseproof paper. I’m wearing the ‘I’m in France’ panama hat with colourful club colours ribbon, the elegant light shirt with the sleeves rolled up two turns, (so much more upper-class than a short sleeved shirt, don’t you agree?) and the new chinos. Inverting the chicken-package in my hands to pass through a delightful floral gateway, the still warm and fluid fat until then retained within the innards of the afore-mentioned chicken gushed down in a torrent over the chinos. It seems that the inside of a chicken is bigger than the outside. We both laughed so much we were folded over and had tears down our faces. [Passing French-person thinks - ‘Huh?’ - or whatever - ‘Why are two obviously English (tch, tch) people having a crying / laughing fit whilst holding lunch, a roast chicken, and one of whom has had a serious personal problem whilst too far from the pissoir? Zut alors!’ Yes, they do say that. And, no, the chinos never recovered. So cold roast chicken is ‘trouser’ or ‘trousis chicken’ to this day.

Which brings me to why I leave the last letter off words like ‘and’ = an’ . Nothing whatsoever to do with the language form of a culture other than mine. Just ’sumfink’ I do (another example).

I’ve been extremely fortunate in my life in that I’ve been paid to visit and do business in many - but not all - of the countries in the world. Without bragging, I can assure you all that I’ve been very well received by so many people from so many cultures and have made many friends. Once accepted as a friend, then sharing language characterisitcs has proved popular, not offensive - BUT you have to become a friend first. So, yes, amongst Afro-centric friends I swap language with them and we’re all happy about that.

Forgive me, please, Trouty and others. I would never offend anyone in any cultural sense and have melded-in well around the world. No offence intended within our blog site. But I can’t promise to remember always to be ‘proper’ in future so I beg your forgiveness in advance if I upset you unintentionally again.

The meek need to be blessed - or given a long cold shower - [cf The Bible] because they allowed blair to get in again and continue to destroy our Nation in his unending drive to become the first El Presidente of Europe - because that’s what he’s about. And as for his wife!!!!!

Ho hum. Well at least Herself is having a good birthday. Having discussed, in a mature fashion, the expenditure of scarce funds on an anniversary we agreed that my purchase of her exhibition ’stuff’ would be a super-dooper b’day present. So I bought her a pocket Digital Radio so that she can listen to the cricket - and whatever. She phoned from work to say IT WORKS!! Because the steel content of her building shields most signals. I’m a hero to Herself for the next 5 minutes. I’ll settle for that.

Love to all - Dad

8/30/2005

Joy beyond compare

Filed under: — Dad @ 3:33 pm

Well, an’ that, the sun’s shinin’ even on me and I’m feeling chipper. Listening to Classic FM CD’s of peace and quiet and looking forward to tomorrow - it’s Herself’s birthday. I’ve got the goody-bag ready an’ the cards an’ stuff. Over the years she’s put up with so much anguish on my part. But I’m almost better, hic, now, wozzit?

YEAH and verily another prat has fallen into my honey-trap. Why do these cold-call phone idiots behave the way they do? I can be sweet-talked into all sorts of things - but NEVER bulldozed. Anyway, more flowers on the way for herself and a useful petty-cash cheque for me. They get really knotted when you ask for a copy of the tape they made of the conversation - because under the Data Protection thingy I’m entitled to one. One would think that people taping sales calls would know that and say - ‘Yup, okey-doke, done-deal, in the post’. But they always have hysterics. Funny things, people.

A bit in the paper today about morons attacking people in hospitals - A & E mostly. Well, for a start, only a moron would physically attack anyone. Then only a double-moron would physically attack anyone in public service - especially in a hospital. So when we’ve done something extremely painful and long-lasting to them (which we are now too wimpish to do) no-one seems to have asked the key question - why did they do it? OK, they’re stupid. Thick. Whatever. But what triggered them? Take away the trigger and the mentally / emotionally deficient people wouldn’t behave like that. I’ve got some ideas but the springly-sparkly new labour party wouldn’t want to hear. Not that they want to hear anything.

My old - really - friend in Wales has bought some rare breed sheep to grow on his hillside. He went out this morning to pick mushrooms and came home to a mushroom and home-killed bacon breakfast. He wants me to go up there and share time with him. I must - before one of us slips his lead and the other mourns.

I wonder what you’re all doing. What you’re all thinking. A secret world out there. Please share just one idea with me. I’d like that.

Julianna - Hi, treasure. We all love you anb care for you. Tell us you’re well.

Charm whoever you meet. They will have had a sad experience at some time and your smile and warmth will bring them cheer.
Ever your Dad

8/24/2005

Tristesse

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:51 am

It’s August and I’m in Dorset, damnit! It’s cold and I’m wrapped up like a lagged hot water cylinder. It’s blowing an almost-gale and it’s raining hard. Oh, fun , fun. BUT I’m listening to The Benedictus by Jenkins - from The Armed Man - a Mass for Peace. LPO and National Youth Choir. Tears roll gently down my face.

Fixed up a date for the flight in a Tiger Moth my wife kindly bought me for Christmas. The RAF taught me to fly in a Tiger Moth - probably one of the last people to do that. Very Biggles.

What’s it with plumbers? The first one did some of the jobs I wanted done and shrugged off the others. (Not all the ones he did worked out OK). The next one proposed a charge of mega-money which he refused to break down / justify for me. The following one gave me an acceptable quote; fixed a date; missed it; fixed another one - ditto - made a third committment. Failed. What is it with plumbers? The third one comes on Thursday evening ‘to look at the job’. At this rate I’ll learn to be a fxxxxxg plumber myself. It’s quicker and cheaper and I know who’s responsible if it goes wrong.

My dear old mate in Wales phoned me and cheered me up by telling me stories about people who had it worse than I have. Ho, ho, ho.

Herself is recovering from the Craft Fair on Sunday. Now I’ve found a laser cutting guy who talks sense I have some more ideas about what we might do. Yowza!! And, no, LordH, he can’t attend to your small and personal blemishes. Cuts steel, though.

It’s easy to say ‘love thine enemy’ or ‘forgive them who have harmed you’. I’m not sure I can buy into that. Part of my recent turmoil with a certain company related to a person who did not believe what I told him but refused to agree that meant he thought I was a liar. Part of the deal I brokered was that this person apologised. Well, yes, he said he was sorry. But he didn’t mean it. To him it was just a ‘formula’. I accepted his apology - but not him. I explained. He listened but did not take in what I said. So I expalined I would never speak to him again. I suppopse that makes me un-Christian. But, I have my rules, too. What do you think?

Closing thought today? Never allow the obscene actions of others to poison your own view of life. They’re wrong. You’re not. Love and friendship - Dad

8/23/2005

Aah - another lovely day

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:14 pm

The sun shineth, my fingers twinkle o’er the keys - and I’m listening to one of the CD’s the Sainted O’Mally sent me. (Bobs head, expels breath)

Well I’m tidying up, you might say. £50 credit from stupid internet people did not appear so I called. They are SO STUPID. Meanwhile the £100 cheque from a-n-other comms company is yet to hand. Why is there a big gap between de words an’ de money music with these people? No, surely, it can’t be that they think I’m so stupid I can’t remember - wha’? - scratch - gnaw absent-mindendly on nearest tree branch - that someone promised me a sniff of the much needed moulah. Oh dear - I fear for our future generations.

Interested to read that a survey of small companies suggests that graduates have a few problems when employed. They can’t write English. They can’t add up. They can’t be nice to customers. They can’t work as a team with others. They can’t get to work on time. They don’t know how to dress. Hmm. Other people must have more patience than I. Any stupid arrogant bastard like that would be out the door by mid-afternoon.

So today I’ve purchased a small display turntable for Herself and have tracked down a Craft Shop where Ray will produce exotic things for me using his laser cutter. Watch this space!! Anyone want anything laser cut just ask.

Well I’m just staying intouch. Nothing great to say today. BUT - don’t conform just because the bastards pressure you to. They are 10 times as likely to be wrong as are you. Stuff them. Real love, folks, Dad.

8/20/2005

O’Mally, world saviour

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:41 am

Well, then, there’s a lot goin’ on ‘ere. Dull heavy day. Decided not to visit the village as I always do on a Sat’day. Herself finishing final touches to stuff for Craft Fair tomorrow and putting more stuff on the e-bay thingy. Watched F1 Qualifying in Turkey and cried aloud with delight as Nazi Schumaker spun off. Life seldom offers so much bliss. And I’m listening to a Glorious CD courtesy of the Sainted O’Mally.

So I’m listening to extracts from The Goon Show. Not heard for many years. It was 1955 and lo, I was in hospital for a year because I had TB. Spending a whole year in hospital is a character-forming experience - believe me. As I ‘improved’ I firstly learned how to rebind worn library books. Then I reorganised how the service was delivered. Then I fixed the problems with the Patients’ Shop. THEN - I got the In-Hospital Broadcasting Service. Apart from all kinds of things, I used to play excerpts from the Goon Show. No middle position. The (captive) listeners either LOVED those bits or LOATHED them. God, it takes me back and I’m listening as I write to you. Sainted O’Mally you’ve saved my sanity!! So many thanks to you. I’d forgotten all that time of my life.

Meanwhile I’m working on my ’secret plan’ about new work - written or visual. Pages of notes and a volcano of motivation. Phew.

Today’s thought? Rays of light from strangers and others enter our lives to our surprise. Grasp the value. Have a peaceful day - Dad

8/19/2005

Life’s a whirl

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:46 pm

Thanks to all for responding to my ‘can’t cope’ wail. Helped me a lot. Meanwhile - today started dull, became clear and sunny, is now dull-ish and humid. Last night we had a wonderful thunderstorm that came overhead, circled and returned. Sheer theatre. The rain was good for the garden, too. Playing CD’s from Classic fm’s ‘Relax & Escape’ set. Calm. Peaceful.

Well Herself is off to the Craft Fair at Weymouth on Sunday. The whole place is full of teeny-tiny things and we caused chaos on Thursday when the man came to check over the burglar alarm. The usual folding exhibition display stand was erected inthe living room and the floor covered in all kinds of stuff. Got the display lighting on - and - and. I do so hope she’ll have a good day. She so deserves it. You’ve seen her web site at www.in-miniature.com of course? And bought a souvenir?

As for me, my behind-the-scenes duties continue as engineering and commercial director (so far unpaid). Example: ‘How can I make a lot of tall leaves?’ Answer: ‘By using my Father’s Vetrinary Surgical Scissors’ (Don’t even think about it).

But, ANOTHER RESULT!! Yet another silly, pushy, uncouth telecoms company has been messing us about trying to twist my arm over the phone to take up their ‘amazing service’. Well, I have a few problems with that. Firstly I react badly to being leaned on verbally by a thicko - or, indeed, anyone. Then I don’t take kindly to being considered stupid. This twit assures me that his company has no ‘incoming’ phone number and has not considered that I can access their web site and get all the other intimate detail I need from Companies House, also via the web. This is followed by a person trained in ‘condescending dismissiveness’ who does not believe me but refuses to accept that means he thinks I’m a liar. Hmm. Then I have to talk to someone with executive authority. Well that’s like falling off a log. I find the name via the web, phone and ask for that person’s PA. INEVITABLY some jobsworth tells me they can’t put me through unless I tell them why I want to speak to them. There are two answers. The real one is ‘because I asked nicely’. If that fails, then I sigh and say, in a lowered tone of voice, ‘Well, actually, it’s about (her/his as necessary) private affairs’. Panic ensues. Heh, heh. When I get there, the PA is ALWAYS nice to me and we become instant friends. I ask for her help in reaching the right senior person. Works like senna pods.

The result? Another £100, a bouquet for my wife with apologies (It’s JUST ARRIVED as I was in the midle of writing this. She didn’t know about it and is delighted), and a grovelling letter of apology from the person who didn’t understand that not accepting what I said meant I was a liar. But I happened to be right and they have the proof from the tapes they keep.

I write at length not becuase I doubt that you are all well able to do this - just to encourage you to do it to mindless organisations that treat you as if you were an idiot. It’s about all we can do.

Oh, the CD is playing an excerpt from the songs of the Auvergne. Doesn’t that just break you up? It does me.

Have a peaceful day. Julianna, my treasure, I so hope you are well and happy.
And a passing thought? Separate pain from reason. Anger defeats the benefits of debate. Emotion closes one’s ears to differing views from which one might gain an added perspective. Go in peace, my true friends. Dad

8/17/2005

A crushing day

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:38 pm

Bright sun, herself busy making teeny-tiny things for the Craft Fair. I’m depressed and playing exquisite Elgar.

Went to the Dump yesterday and talked to a really nice guy who thinks our country is going to the dogs and was talking to his wife about moving abroad. He is atypical Labour voter. So it’s his fault.

I’m still involved in a ‘debate’ with yet another phone company harrassing my wife. They’ll lose - but they don’t know it yet. Dear God, why have I to carry this stuff on my back?

You have, of course, always read the DT. So you will have seen the ads for The Balvennie Malt. But please log on to www.thebalvenieandi.com and create an ad for them and win a bottle of the good stuff.

Julianna - thanks for the mail. I’m here for you.

I have another Client in the USA - Sheila. She’s really scrambled. I have to carry her as well as myself. I can’t do it today. I need your support.

When you’re down - reach out to music and books. They’ll save you sanity. Please God. Dad.

8/14/2005

Another view from another room

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:05 pm

Warm, lazy, sunny day down here in deepest Dorset. Flute music on the machine as I struggle bravely onwards.

Herself needs lots of full colour stuff for her business and ink jet printers are seriously expensive in ink. So as a good business customer of PC World they offered me a yesterday model of a Canon colour laser printer for about £190 all in. Phew! In the world I lived in any laser was mega-bucks and colour laser was wow!! So I bought it. I don’t care that it’s the previous model and a bit big. Cheep, cheep. Got it installed today and I’m beginning to warm to it. I had an HP black laser for - think of a number - 10 years? Cost about £1,500 at the time. It’s knackered now, poor old soul, and stumbled bravely through my needs. But it never actually failed. Just some bits don’t work any more. Off to the dump.

Now I need new teknolodgy to make all singing, all dancing DVD’s for training and uplifting purposes. I can see about a grand going out the window - BUT as Johnny in Texas tells me he’s there for me so if he and his global mates pay up I might yet manage to pay the new blair / brown Council Tax. ANY ADVICE about the right kit to buy would be very welcome.

I truly HATE those b/b people. We need a folk revolution to take our Nation back from a spread of lying manipulative axxxxxxxs. Murdering or hurting hundreds of people is an instant thing that people can see. Slowly crushing and destroying our Nation is like watching paint dry so people can’t see what these bxxxxxxs are doing. Until it will be too late. Why are people not raging?

Which brings me to the Nottinghamshire Police prat who spent money buying green ribbons ‘to show sympathy with Muslims’. His head is up his axxe. He should have bought red/white/blue striped ribbnons for his police, the Muslim communiity and everyone else to wear showing solidarity with our Nation and loyalty to our Queen.

Having another poem published spurs me on to write yet another. I’ve been a freelance journo for years and can write about anything to any length at the drop of a hat - or the call of a phone. But not poetry. I have to have the moment and be in the mood. Makes me worry about the quality of my writing.

Enough, Dad. If you have good in your heart and are abused by someone - consider the weight of problems they carry to make them like that. Sleep well. Dad

8/9/2005

A bad day and a good day

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:12 pm

A lovely sunny day and it’s hot. Trace Adkins playing again. Works in synch with my fractured mind.

I’ve copped a secret for Herself. She’s off to this Craft Workshop and I bought her some display equipment (for her birthday, would you believe!! She was v. pleased). So she needs a Header Board saying what she does. So I organised that and collected it this morning. The old game ‘ow much?’ ‘Some’ ‘ow much for cash, no invoice?’ ‘Less’ Which is what I payed him. He’s a nice bloke and we go back a long way. Herself is delighted so I’ve done a ‘good thing’. Well, makes a change.

Meanwhile she’s at home with a knackered arm. Doctor / x-rays / the whole 9 yards. Wel, I’ll lend a hand.

If you haven’t yet seen her website www.in-miniature.com or bought something - shame on you. Do it NOW!! You know it makes sense!!

You all know about www.lulu.com don’t you? Interesting web based book publishing business. I’m going to have a go at it. BUT did I tell you another of my pomes is being published in October? I’m thinking of doing an anthology of pomes and essays. Let me share a special one with you:

Love and Memories

Had I been delayed on the road
We would never have met
She gave us so much
We loved her so much
We miss her so much every day

Late evening, a tiring drive, home
The car still at last
Stumbling to the door
What’s that? A small shape in the mist.
A dog. Head down, coat matted
I ask her if she needs me

Through the door first, an honour owed
She had been someone’s pet
Then she bore my touch
She stole my heart. Such
A sweetheart. Loved in every way

Wendy we called her. Sadly some
Laughed. We guessed her past
Cared when she was sore
Gave her our hearts. We never missed
Meeting her needs. We patted
Her and shared a cosy knee

She gave to us and we to her
She has left us now with naught to fill her place
Oh how we miss her
Photos remain of laughing, lovely Wendy
The sweetest dog that stole our hearts away
Forever

If you can’t follow the scan - v.1 and v.3 - v.2 and v.4 - v.5 is the conclusion. If you can read that without a tear - I can’t.

The bad news? The sxxxxxg therapists. They just don’t live in the real world - mostly they huddle up in the NHS. Untouched by real life. No, I’ve NOTHING against the concept of the NHS and many people in it who are absolutely dedicated. But, there’s a much better way of doing the same thing. The dedicated people (and the patients and family members) deserve better.

More bad news? The fxxxxxg gyppoes have fetched up on the park behind our house. It’s an environmentally cared for space and the last time they came they wrecked it obscenely. Also, curiously, the burglary rate went through the roof. I respect their right to enjoy a different life - but why defecate on mine? THAT’s not reasonable.

Julianna - good news, treasure. Thank you.

To all of you - excellence is not an act - it’s a habit. You can do that.

Cheers - Dad

8/8/2005

‘ullo an’ dat

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:09 am

Nice day today but I’ve been awake since about 1.30 last night so I’m slowly falling apart. Trace Adkins singing ‘Dreamin’ out loud’. Yo. C-a-l-m.

A moderate degree of trauma here. Herself has acquired a mysterious acute shoulder pain which leaves her with one unuseable ‘wing’. All I could do was rig up a sling for her over the weekend. Then I drove to her Doctor’s place this morning to explain that she WAS going to be seen soonish. She had insisted on going to work at 07.30 because there was an early morning meeting she had to organise. As a Born Again Christian she has DUTY stencilled on her forehead. As her protector I can ‘persuade’ her Doctors’ Practice Receptionists to ‘fix it’. One all. New ball. I’m waiting to find out what happened.

‘DING’ She’s back. Absolute rest required. No work. (Heh, heh) Muscular problem probably causd by intensive efforts to make lots of teeny-tiny garden things for Craft Fair shortly.

As for me, yesterday I reached what the cognoscenti apparently call ‘the tipping point’ with the f- (er?), b- (er?) oh, yes, the surreal Therapists. So I told them to stuff it. I quit the committee. Cor! That means I failed to make any impact and they will continue on in the same old (stupid) way. One might imagine they were on a ’substance’. They couldn’t even think of throwing a party in a brewery, let alone make it happen. Sad.

Apart from that my ISP has broken the e mail (again) so whilst I can access the web I can’t do de messagin’ stuff, Massa. May be that’s just as well given what I said to the Therapists yesterday. In fact, was it something I said that’s caused my current trauma? Hmm.

So what’s new? My chum in Wales phoned to say he’s had a ‘tipping point’ as well about certain people from London with a Holiday Cottage (not well thought of in Wales) who come down and nick his blackberries.
Being townies they think because they grow along a hedge they’re - like - free. Thick or what? But he has a ‘cunning plan’.

So how’s Henry doing with Das Boot? Did you like that series? I found it absolutely riveting. And what about the Ruskies and the good old Royal Navy? Magic. But no surprise. (blair / brown)’s treatment of our Services is a - - - TOTAL scandal. Oh, and when did either of them visit the wounded from Iraq? Even in hospital here where it’s safe if you have an armour-plated Jag and get the streets cleared before someone else drives you s-m-o-o-t-h-l-y along. WHO THE (many expletives deleted) VOTES FOR THESE BASTARDS? So far, honestly, I’ve never met anyone with the guts to admit that they are helping to destroy our (my) Country. If I ever find the bastard who voted blair / brown in we shall have a challenging debate, believe me.

I’m not sorry Robin Cook is dead. Dumping your wife for a media performance in the Departure Lounge at Heathrow (oops, sorry, VIP D.L. meaning Vile Idiot Person) typifies New Labour. Meaning we have New Ways of being tasteless and disgusting. Gross. Foul. He’s a symbol for their time - short may it now be. I don’t care if he was the smartest anus in the anal labour party - Dear God - what sxxt non-existent standards he and his party work to. UGH!! But everyone smiles. What are they putting in the water?

I have a new internet Client called - shall we say - Mary. Mid-30’s. Mum dead, lives with Dad. No ’significant other’. Now I have to support her whilst not allowing her to become dependent. She thinks I’m wonder-man. Well I can’t live up to that - but perhaps I can give her a lift.

Hey Julianna - thanks for the news. GREAT. You see, you can manage all this stuff. On your own. We all have eveything crossed for you.

And for the rest of us? Take time out every day to be gentle. With a flower; with a pet; with a family member. Do ‘gentle’. As ye give so shall ye receive. It’ll work for you and you’ll feel SO GOOD!!!

Take care, people - Dad

8/6/2005

Hello? Anyone there?

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:19 am

Well, here I am again, at last, says he blowing dust off and wriggling a lot. Saturday a.m. and it’s raining down ‘ere in deepest Dorset. So I haven’t gone to the library and will live off the zillions of books in this place. Emmylou Harris playing gently.

Herself is working up into a frenzy for a Craft Fair at Weymouth in a couple of weeks. The entire house is filled with Dolls House Garden bits. BUT you must see her new web site www.in-miniature.com I think she’s brilliant!! So do her customers, so that’s OK then.

As for me, I’m being driven nuts by the Therapists. We have a Committee Mtg at Birmingham Uni on the 21st. and I have to go up to Preston next week to sort out their accounts. Actually the Psychology Dept. of Royal Preston Hospital. I’m terrified someone will think I’m ‘in’. Imagine myself at Reception asking for the Psych. Dept ‘but I’m OK, honest’ Smiles crookedly and blinks thro’ smeared glasses. They’ve been happily banking money and writing cheques - but have overlooked a little known quirk of life known as the Inland Revenue. Or giving Association Members a set of Annual Accounts. Their minds lie on a separate plane from the rest of us. But I’ll make it right.

Isn’t Henry’s news splendid!! All he needs is for everyone to put their hosepipes / spinklers into the canal so he can motor off and terrorise more 5 year olds with his eye-patch and hand-hook. He should be on prescription for exhausted parents of small-people. WELL DONE Henry old fruit. Keep it up. But Trouty (I thought - ‘Elegantly’ was a better term) - I can imagine how he is helped by the warmth of your love. See you’

I loved the Tesco-scam. He is definitely a chip off the old, gnarled, block. My score so far last week was 4 non-customer-oriented firms: £85 job done on car for free; bunch of flowers for herself; bottle of malt whisky for me; cheque for £100 in real money. KEEP IT UP, idiots. As G.B.Shaw said, all progress depends upon the unreasonable man. Yeah!!

So now I’ve acquired another American lady person as an internet therapy Client. That makes 15. Should I have an American web site? She’s such a nice person adrift in her own sea of distress. To brace her with a touch of reality I sent a pic of me in my kilt. In the 1930’s that would have been been called shock-treatment. She was resilient. Together, we have hope.

Hi Julianna - thanks for the message. Send me a sign. How are you on a scale of 1 - 10? Since most of the intelligent world is rooting for you 9 would be good. I think of you every day and wish you well, treasure.

Dad’s thought today? Do one good thing for someone that no-one else will know you’ve done. As ye sow, so shall ye reap.

Have a peaceful day - Dad

7/11/2005

It’s a quiet day

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:22 pm

It’s been a funny day. Burning hot this am - 110 in the conservatory and 90 in the car. Brendan Croker on the computer as I putz away.

We recorded Swallows ansd Amazons and I saw it again. Such simplicity and yet such self-reliance. I’m not sure kids could do that today. Which is sad.

Violent feelings about indescriminate murder, the olympics (no cap. o) and blair (an even smaller b though he’s a HUGE B).

I have a small problem. If s0me part of the East end of London is rubbish - why has it not been fixed? If transport in London is crap, why has it not been fixed? Since blair and his entire machine is rubbish why has it not been thrown away? The list continues.

I’m a Brief Therapist (don’t ask unless you have time) and access various chat rings. The question arose - ‘what task do you give your Client before they leave?’ All sorts of stuff. But one asnwer was to imagine they had a camera with them all the time - and what happened? I thought about that. What would my camera see? What would I be happy about and what would I prefer no-one else to see? Hmm.

Inside I am raging. So much is so wrong. To you I am trying to appear calm. What can Dad say today given that admission? Hey - I went to the Village today and the various bank people / shopkeepers / whoever were so nice to me. In my small world I am so fortunate. Look at your small world of relatives, friends, people with whom you do a small piece of business and remember - you are lucky, too. Good night - Dad

7/7/2005

I really hate this

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:23 pm

It would seem certain that Middle Eastern people have murdered or injured innocent people in London.

Those murderers could not have lived in Britain without the support of others of their ilk. It is very unlikely that those supporters were true English people. It is therefore most likely that the supporters were other Middle Eastern people.

Why have they thrown in my face my ready acceptance of such people in my Country? How can I avoid hating such people residing in my Country?

So now I have two problems.

Hatred is such a difficult emotion to set aside.

I have no good words to say. Forgive me. Dad

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:22 pm

7/5/2005

What Summer?

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:59 am

Lousy weather. Playing a Country & Western compilation. Humph.

Got up at 06.00 this am as usual and had to wrap myself in a dressing gown, socks and a rug over my lap to enjoy my tea and the paper. In JULY????

That execrable couple blair & brown have much for which to answer. I’m not in touch. Any nutter would do less harm to my Country than the present Government - who reject the idea of democracy. (How long have you got) Why aren’t there raging 1,000’s of citizens banging on the doors of Downing Street and demanding that they sod off and stay with their nice friends in Italy or elsewhere who pay for them to stay there. If they could have the Orange Revolution in the Ukraine why in Hell can’t we have any kind of revolution here to get rid of these xxxxxxxx?

I’ve nothing nice to say except that I’m going to change into the kilt after I’ve writen this and tell the xxxxxxx world to get stuffed. Oh, and what about this disgusting, unshaven, draggle-haired moron who is so uncouth he ‘wants our f– money’. Now he’s a SERIOUS dickhead. Self-promoting; self-aggrandising; no idea HOW to really help Africa. [light bulb] HE’s the xxxxxxx idiot that voted this xxxxxxx Government in. Dim, stupid, self-obsessed idiot. If you were REAL you would go out there and spend your unreasonably acquired zillions and those of your dick-head friends to set up businesses and support people in Africa to kick out the twisting xxxxxxxx in charge who steal the money. Ah, no, sorry. If he just really helped instead of grandstanding he wouldn’t get his picture in the papers would he. The SxxT.

I’m not having a good day because people are REALLY xxxxxxx me off.

Yours, angrily.

BUT - Hey, where are you Julianna? I’m here for you, sunshine. Talk to me.

For the rest of us - we need friends who will accept our frustrations. But it’s a two way trade. Be kind to your friends when they boil over. They need your strength as I need yours.

Have a peaceful day, now. Dad

6/27/2005

Whew!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:54 pm

It’s hot today - 120deg.F in the conservatory. I’ve been out and about doing things for Herself and teeny-tiny gardens and enjoying social intercourse hither and yon.

Took parcels to Keef at the Sorting Office and had a chat. He takes my parcels / mail into the place and hands it to sorting-person saying ’sort now’. That’s why my 1st. cl. mail arrives the next day. It’s never what you know, it’s who.

Sold cumbersome exhibition display equipment for £50 more than we paid for it and got a 60% discount off (collect it - pay cash - no credit - no invoice required) for new, lightweight, easy-carry stuff for forthcoming show. Graphics and lights included. Magic.

Left amused / confused electrical wholesaler Boss with problem of sourcing obscure connector fitting which when added to a certain green wire makes a perfect ‘hosepipe’ for teeny-tiny gardens. Helpfully, I suggested it was made in China. He feels China is a b-i-g place. His prob. After all, I said I’d buy 20 (same terms as above but 33% discount). He said it made a nice change from chasing portable air-con units for desperate customers. So I’ve been very helpful, reely! A proper little ray of sunshine.

You remember my friend Lamorak? Well apparently my visit did him the world of good but tempers are a tad frayed because he keeps saying ‘But Uncle Joe said - - ‘ as in ‘the last word’. As I mentioned, he has an oddly direct way of speaking exactly what’s in his mind without regard to the general conversation. Idea pops in - speech pops out. That’s just how he’s wired, bless him. It’s the thing that unerves people who don’t know him well. Since I’m pretty up-front too, I have no problem with that - so we get on fine. I’m so glad I’ve been able to bring a spark into what is a very lonely life. Mum and Dad are very good with him - but he’s just cut off, really, poor b.

So LordH - no, he hasn’t a sister called Anorak - but you were close. It’s Anna, actually!! And no, I haven’t told them.

And JG - YOU know it was a skean dhu; I know it was a skean dhu - but most people can’t pronounce it and have no idea what it is. So I called it a dirk. Hope I’m forgiven but it’s nice to meet a purist. Oh and I didn’t mention the ‘ancient’ colour garter tabs to match the ‘ancient’ tartan. NOTE: ‘Ancient’ refers to the colours. In olden times vegetable dyes were used and they are very ’soft’ colours. ‘Modern’ dyes are chemical and quite harsh and bright by comparison. The thing I didn’t wear (too hot) was my black Argyll jacket with the square silver buttons and the braided epaulettes. Oh just think how many hoots / whistles / w.h.y I’d have got if I’d done that!!!

What else? Oh, yes Sarah, thanks for ‘I await your response’. What I set out to do is create a file demonstrating restraint on my part and total stupidity / inefficiency on theirs. Once you’ve got the file, you can really make people SUFFER! So I have an escalation process: 1.Letter. Quiet, tranquil, objective. 2. Fax (This is super because poeple don’t use them much now because of e mail) sending copy with ‘I feel sure this letter was either never delivered or has gone astray at your end’ message. 3. E mail with attachments. Concerned, not angry, but includes date / time for reply. Requests copies sent to x,y and z. 4. Special Delivery Letter warning that whilst I have attempted to keep this matter private so far if no reply is forthcoming I have no alternative but to - - -. 5. Fax advising dam will burst. Several copies sent to every fax number I can find referring to the copies they must have received as a result of (3). So far, I’ve never needed number 6. Good one, Sarah. Like it!

And ScottJ - why the surprise? I used to play drums in a good jazz band in London. I’ve got 8 Don Williams CD’s and funnily enough the one I played yesterday has ‘Good old boys like me’ as the lead number. What else should I enjoy, friend? All good ideas stolen freely!!

Well I’ve said my thanks to you all. I have Henry and all of you to thank for allowing me into this special private place. Thank you for that. One idea you might like - IF you didn’t read the Review section of the Sunday Telegraph then you need to know about ‘the fastest growing internet phenomenon since e bay’. WOW!! Yazza Yazza!!Two years ago Deron Beal in Arizona (keep up - it’s a small part of one of our colonies) got cross about people dumping stuff and set up www.freecycle.org as a ‘meeting place’ for people who had stuff they wanted to give away and for people to ask for things they wanted. No cash - just a swap-meet. It’s taken off like a rocket. I’m not surprised. But when you join you have to offer something to give away before you can ask for soemething you want. There’s more - but why not find out?

Late for lunch. Love to you all and a bit worried about Julianna - but I was away for a while. Today’s message? Why not try to heal a disagreement you have had with someone? Hey, we can all be wrong but we needn’t be thick about it. Supposing they don’t think like that? You win more with sugar than with vinegar. Just a thought. Cheers - Dad

6/26/2005

A sunny day

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:31 am

Yep, de sun shinin’ here in de Souf. More Don Williams - I need the tranquility of his songs.

Herself is working hard to finish a specially commissioned teeny-tiny vegetable garden. We’ve worked together on the design and the structural engineering - but she’s the one that puts it together and she’s brilliant. How great to both love and admire one’s wife. I’m so lucky. Well, actually I deserve it - but, hey - who’s counting?

I’m clearly out of tune with much of modern society. At the risk of boring you all again I’m (pause - deep breath) a Solution Focused Brief Therapist. It makes me tired just typing it. If you want to know more - just ask. But why are people so rude nowadays? Why don’t people answer letters? ‘No’ is an answer. Voicemail is an open sewer into which one’s message is delivered, never to be heard of again. E mail vanishes into the cosmos. Realmail probably never gets delivered anyway and is never answered. As just one example out of many, a letter to the German Embassy dated 9th.May has not yet been acknowledged, let alone replied to, by the 26th.June. 7 weeks. There must be a European Standard for Behaviour - but not for the Embassy. Or anyone else. Sad, that.

Lunch now.

BUT - J, my treasure - are you OK?

As for the rest of us. Break off. Look outside. Birds, bees, small people. We’re so lucky, really.
Cheers and my love - Dad

6/24/2005

It’s good to be home!

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:41 am

Thunder and lightning with a spatter of rain o’ernight. Hot and muggy today. Don Williams on the m/c. Core C & W.

Well, my round trip went very well. Met up with sundry old (yes - quite old!) friends; chattered a lot; shared memories of old times and old friends. Ate and drank. Gill in Kenilworth wouldn’t let me wear my kilt but I dressed in the whole lot for Carole in St.Albans and her son Lamorak. She knew me when I used to wear my kilt quite often and implored me to wear it again for her and her son. So - Kilt / Glengarry hat (OK, infidels, the pointy one with the red bobble on top and twin ribbons down the back with my Clan Badge on the black silk rosette. BUT no red / white chequered band because it’s not a military tartan - goddit? Questions on a used bank note.) Also smart belt with celtic design Big Buckle (3″ x 4″ for the anoraks amongst you); new sporran; dirk in stocking; thistle carved deer antler handled walking stick. Quite low key, really. Oh - I was a VISION. Well I know I was because in the confident expectation of malt whisky I walked to their place from my hotel rather than drive and I was waved at, hooted at, whistled at. No wonder my three children are so lovely to behold since their Father is clearly (still) very handsome. Oh, and they might have been supporting independence for Scotland, I suppose? Well, it all went down a storm (and the malt).

Before you ask ‘And what does Herself think of you fading off to stay with old (yes, again) girlfriends?’ She’s been nagging me to bxxxxr off for months so she can have some peace and quiet. And would I mind making this a regular feature so she can put it in her diary and has something to which to look forward? Funny thing, marriage. I have long felt that ‘Private time’ is a vital requirement for a happy marriage. I used to travel on business all the time so it was no prob. But now? Well, find more (old) girl friends and b’ off, I suppose. Oh well.

Carole, her husband John and I met up as teenagers and have been close ever since. Then I married my first wife and we lived close to each other so the families were friends. Lamorak is their eldest son and was born about the same time as Henry. Very sadly, he is both epileptic and otherwise mentally disadvantaged. However I am a ‘friend’ because I can cope with his abruptness and spend time with him. Most people are either frightened of him or treat him as a blank space and talk past him - something that I gather happens to many people with disabilities. Sad, that. L and I had a good time. He loves to ask questions - you can see this one coming - ‘What do you keep in your sporran?’ So I showed him. He’s a nice bloke who doesn’t deserve his problems.

Back home to learn that I’ve been voted on to the Central Committee of the UK Assoc’n of Solution Focused Practitioners. Phew. So as one of them I have to help organise them. Watch this space. They inhabit a different world from mine so there WILL BE fireworks.

Enuff.

Julianna - treasure - sorry I’ve been away. Are you well? I’ve been thinking about you. With so many people rooting for you, J, you are much blessed. However the dice falls we’re here for you and we all look forward to your future - whatever that may be. Chin up, chuckles!!

To my other friends - I’ve learned again from my travels that in life it’s so easy to let events overtake the reality of life. True friends offer us so much strength and support - as we offer to our friends. Without each other we’d be lost. So treasure friendship. Support your friends. Don’t let the pressures of today wipe out the enduring strength of friendship. Cheers, all - Dad

6/11/2005

Oh what a lovely day!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:33 pm

At last! Sun and that. Had a good morning and am playing Chet Atkins ‘Street Dreams’.

Eleven people on a rope

Eleven people were hanging on a rope under a helicopter, ten men and one woman.
The rope was not strong enough to carry them all, so they decided that
one had to leave, because otherwise they were all going to fall.

They weren’t able to choose that person, until the woman gave a very touching speech.
She said that she would voluntarily let go of the rope, because, as a woman,
she was used to giving up everything for her husband and kids, or for men in general,
and was used to always making sacrifices with little in return.
As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping their hands……

SEND THIS TO A WOMAN SO THAT SHE HAS SOMETHING TO SMILE ABOUT TODAY.

Well the new super-duper kilt and sundry other stuff arrived yesterday. It’s amazing what verbal telephonic manipulation can inspire others to do. Like getting the valve for the boiler when there weren’t any valves in Britain. You just need to know which bit to twist that brings tears to their eyes. Heh, heh.

It being good weather, got togged up in kilt & etc to go to the Village as one does every Saturday. Didn’t pick up on Herself’s comment that she had things to do and didn’t have time to go - could I visit Bldg. Soc. and pay in cheque for her, pls? It was only later that I wondered why.

Swep’ down The Broadway (High Street to the peasantry) with a swing and a swish. Find people go cross-eyed and mumble a bit when they see me. Their problem. BUT. Then. Change Library books on Saturday. Do other chores first. Take books out of car & set off. Only THEN do I realise that L.Books are kept in a nice French shoppping basket. So what is a man in a skirt doing walking down the road with a wicker shopping basket over his arm? Aaarrgh!! But I was still laughing when I went in and I know the ladies / girls w.h.y. there very well - so they kept straight faces and said I looked v. smart. Must buy a ‘book bag’ before I confuse someone.

Since then saw bits of Trooping the Colour (why do idiot ’sniling’ [yes, ‘n’] blair + unreconstructed stupid socialist brown want to destroy our armed forces and our history? Answers on a used bank note please - kilts are v. expensive) and worked on final details for Herself’s new web site. It’ll be great!! When it’s live I’ll tell you how to find it and you’ll all buy a bit from her, won’t you, folks? Feedback from USA customers often use the word ‘awesome’. Well, that’s before they’ve seen me in my kilt.

That’s it for now. BUT - hey, Julianna, babe, got your posts and will respond in due course. Want to think. For now, choose the piece of clothing you like most and wear it. It could be under or outer wear. It could be NEW or old and crumpled. If you like it, find a way to wear it. Hey, clothes are for us. If I can walk around a piece of Dorset in a kilt, you can wear a pair of knickers you like - which no-one can see - but which gives you a g-o-o-d feeling. Or whatever. Go for it, treasure.

The rest of us? We all hate ourselves about something. Just for today - cross it out. Not today. Don’t beat yourself up. Today you’re OK. That up-beat mood will communicate itself to others - and make their day, too. That way both you and they win. Love to all - Dad

6/8/2005

Don’t blame me

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:41 pm

Fitness

Q: I’ve heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?

A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that’s it…don’t waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that’s like saying you can
extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?

A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism for delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain?
Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products.

Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?

A: Well, if you have a body and you have body fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?

A: Can’t think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain…Good

Q: Aren’t fried foods bad for you?

A: You’re not listening. Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they’re permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?

A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?

A: Are you crazy? HELLO ….. Cocoa beans … another vegetable!!! It’s the best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?

A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me. (I love
that one!)

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?

A: Hey! ‘Round’ is a shape!

Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had
about food and diets. Now go have a biscuit…flour is a veggie!

Brrh but busy

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:13 am

Sunny today but windy and cold-ish. More Eva Cassidy playing. So with a chilly life dictated by the unfunctioning boiler I’m wrapped up warm following ‘refreshing’ but rather limited cold-water ablutions.

THE GOOD NEWS is that a HUGE truck maneovered up my residential road and squeeled its air brakes to a halt before turning round ponderously whilst beep-beeping when reversing. Disbelieving trucker in smart kit arrives with box and clip-board. ‘Was I me?’ He normally delivers to places with room for big trucks an’ offices an’ dat. Offer him tea. Got places to go, things to do but ta. Many years ago I used to drive vans / trucks for my Dad’s business. Sheer, undiluted fun. ‘Biggish’ trucks (tiny by today’s standards) were ‘plated’ at 20 mph limit (ie had a 20 sign on the back). Imagine driving London / Manchester (a regular run) before motorways in a truck at 20 mph often in a pea-soup fog. Yes, they happened AFTER the War not just in Sherlock Holmes’s time. Oh, and the engine power was so poor that they couldn’t maintain 20 up a slope with a load on. Well, you could watch the coutryside, admire the clouds and have plenty of time to think.

One truck I drove was ex-army (they mostly were then). Because it was rigged for use in the desert, the FRONT opening door had a metal stay to hold the door open just wide enough to put your legs out and rest your feet on the front mudguard. It also had a hand throttle you could set to save using the throttle pedal. So in the summer I’d drive along, door propped open, ankles crossed and feet on mudguard, steering gently. You can’t even imagine it, today!!

SO my friends in Derbyshire have shifted themselves and sent me a valve that no-one I tried across Britain could get. They’d all sold the last one they had, the factory told them there was no stock and they had no idea when there would be any. Proud, I am. Oh, and it would have cost me £291 and it came for nowt. That’s two results I reckon. So I phoned Maureen, Ann, Sue and Nick (the Director of Something) to say ‘thanks, folks’. Apparently not a lot of people do that. Now if you get out of your pram to complain, then you really should clamber out to say ‘thanks’. Life’s a bxxxxr anyway and the occasional ‘thanks’ eases the pain, dunnit. But then you all do that, don’t you?

Oh, oh, Eva’s singing ‘I wish I was a single girl again’. Does that beat ever rattle your under-parts. Wow - if only I had a drum kit here I’d be in Heaven. Cor! Play it again, Dad.

Got to say I envy Henry an’ de boat. If wishes were wings I’d be on it. I just love water - in it’s proper place. Herself reckons that my round-the-houses trip next week will do me the world of good. She’s normally right.

My first stop is to spend a few days in Wales staying in Rhayader (it’s not as hard to pronounce as you might imagine) and spend time with my (equally old) mate - we chatter a lot to each other and share our expertise over problems. He’s helping an illiterate Welsh farmer with a messy case about a right of way, and I’m helping him with the legal bit and drafting letters and ‘motions’ for him. Well, it beats staring into space.

He bought a farm and is doing-up the farm house - meanwhile he, his wife and their grown-up very high-powered daughter live in a mobile home in the yard. Should I be frightened? He phoned to say that because I was coming they were up-rating (he can use the language, right) their lavatorial facilities. The interior of the house has been ripped out awaiting re-fitting. Got the ground floor lovely wood floor and fireplace so we can do ‘drink-ins’ in front of the fire (can’t wait). However. They have an outside ‘facility’ (Sensitive shyness over use of blunt language on blog site). Because I’m visiting they’re putting this ‘on the mains’. Aaargh!! Mind boggles. It seems that heretofore in the above mentioned ‘facility’ there was a big water butt and a bucket alonside a modern ceramic-and-stuff ’suite’. Enter. Do whatever. Dip bucket in butt and empty down ceramic modernity. Whoever takes the last bucket out of the butt fills it again. Should I subject myslef to this? The answer came in an e-mail from the two girls. ‘Go for it, Joe, you will have achieved the most progressive step forward for woman-kind for some time’ Well, you can’t turn that down can you? Will I get the hem of my kilt wet? Oh, whichever way you turn, it’s worrying.

That’s about it for today. Hey Julianna - thanks for feedback. We aim to please. So let me set you a task. Think five years ahead. Identify one thing you want to achieve for yourself. Paint a picture? Make a pottery mug? Encourage birds around you and see what they do? Write a 3 page idea of how you see life? Re-decorate your living space? Think. Tell me. You want it private? joe@power-base.co.uk - go on, you owe it to yourself because you’re a valued person.

Today’s thought? You win more with honey than with vinegar. But never let them face you down. Love to all - Dad

6/7/2005

Heh, heh, heh

Filed under: — Dad @ 3:18 pm

Funny that. Spoke to Director at boiler business and he’s sending me a widget for nothing because I made him sad.

Funny that.

Please contact me if you need to wind someone up. Send request on a used banknote.

Heh, heh, heh.

Dad

It’s a (not so) funny life

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:47 pm

Well it’s sunny(ish) and I’m letting Eva Cassidy soothe me (The one singing on the CD!! Wash your mind out!!) Herself is fit to be tied. She sought a part-time job to allow her time for other things especially teeny-tiny gardening. So it’s a job-share and a.n.o. person is supposed to do the afternoons but they are supposed to cover for each other for holidays. Well, that’s OK. The first two sharers couldn’t manage ‘dependable’. The current one? She has a curious affliction called F & M - can’t make it to work Friday or Monday. Or Tuesday today. Now Herself is a really nice person and also a born-again Christian. So far, so good. Until she gets MAD!!!!! Then I wriggle behind the settee and put fingers in ears. She can’t come home until late today and is spitting mad. I’m with her. Something extremely painful is going to happen to someone if this keeps up. Not physical - a touch of the acid verbals. I’m glad I don’t work there. (Big wince)

So the boiler still doesn’t work. A gas valve (for the anoraks part no. 05720000) has failed. OK, fine, it happens. BUT - no-one has one. Check with the manufacturer? No stock, no idea of when stock will be available. And the price of the non-available widget is stupid (been director of hi-tech engineering company - believe me). So I’ve spent a cheerful morning talking to people the length and breadth of our fair land (well it was before a bundle of xxx idiots put El Presidente blair over us all) saying ‘Have you got a widget ON THE SHELF? Nope. Plan B (I knew you’d want to know if I had one) Rip the thing off the wall and install a new boiler.

Please put £1,500 in used banknotes in post to enable me to achieve this objective. Oh come on, you wouldn’t want the creator of teeny-tiny gardens to go un-showered and put up with husband (hunched behind settee, see above) also unwashed, would you? Pleeze!!

BUT there is good news. S-m-o-o-t-h black Highland Jacket wif de bright square metal buttons and the smart turned up cuffs & etc arrived today in time for my round-the-block trip next week. I look superb. Well, the jacket does. An’ that. etc. um.

I’ve been studying the use of the internet for counselling / therapy kind of stuff. I do this and want to create an ‘internet model’ because then I could do it from my chair and need not rent de offis an’ dat. It has the great advantage of annonymity. Well, several people are flaunting themselves over the i-waves and it seems to be working. Hmm. I could go for this. Opinions on a used UK bank note please. Waddayu fink?

Oh, Eva’s singing ‘I know you by heart’. Tears run down my face - now and every time. The power that music and song have over our emotions. I truly feel that if I meet someone unmoved by music - I should pass them by. Sheer, deep, raw emotion such as music calls up is an essential element in the human soul.

So, what does Dad think today? Firstly Julianna - Hey, much loved person, today’s a GOOD DAY. What will be, will be. Relax back into it. You are valued by who you are not what you may - or may not - achieve. Since the future is outside your control - just go for it, however it turns out. Our world needs good people. Lift your heart, love.

For the rest of us? Have we done one good, unselfish deed today? Not yet? There’s still time. Put a ‘good deed’ coin into the collecting box of life. You may need to draw on that bank one day. Love to you all - Dad.

6/5/2005

Moe, Wisery and Panic

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:24 pm

‘ello, then. (Pause for gloom) This weather is NOT RIGHT for Dorset. It’s got to be someone’s fault and I want COMPENSATION! Well, yesterday it was mild with showers - so I couldn’t wear THE KILT. We looked at each other and decided we needn’t go to the Village (SOP for Saturday) so stayed indoors. Went to bed (As one does) O’ernight a small Gremlin knocked out the boiler. Up this am at 6 (don’t fret - we always get up about then) and herself went for the papers. Drank tea. Read stuff. ‘Are you cold?’ ‘Yes, you prat, that’s why I’m wearing all this’ Note: this is a non-gender-biased exchange either comment could come from either gender. ‘Did you turn the heating off?’ ‘No’ Boiler dead. Sunday. Stuff it. No heat, no (indoor) shower - it’s pxxxxxg down outside and cold with it - no washing-up. Much cold gloom.

Well that’s done SOME of the M & W. The Panic? Herself’s new Web Site is on the cusp of introduction to a wider world. Can she cope? What will happen? Aarrgh. Her teeny-tiny gardens sell at a blink. Most go to the US of A. She works flat out creating her lovely things. I’m so proud of her. What will happen when the Web site goes live?

I blame the cold for the iron entering my soul. blair? (No cap b req’d) and his grasping wife in the US of A? ‘The First Lady of Downing Street’. Euch! Put £20,000 in my pocket whilst - surprise, surprise, my key to riches a.k.a. husband is talking to The President. Tell me that’s merely a nighmare. But it opens a new possibility I had never envisaged over the last 70 odd years. There is clearly no level to which the blair family and this entire accursed plague of a govt will not sink. Even Euan (I get drunk in the middle of London) blair plays his part by getting Dad to agree to a film shoot around Downing Street denied to another film company not paying him. Euch!! When will the natural reasonable standards of our citizenry rise against the debauchment of our country, our lives, our standards? Please don’t leave it too late, folks.

Reverting to Dorset, as a way of lowering my blood pressure, did you know I was a published poet? Not easy for poets, that. The following is ‘A Dorset Idyll’

Clear blue sky, unwinking sun
Warm air, soft and clear
Deep green hedges, drifts of trees
Grassy heaves of gentle hills
Such a life gift

The hum and thrum of people’s passage
Visitors quest here for their fun
Locals hold their places dear
All turn their faces to a kindly breeze
And settle to a slower pace

Some people face the workday run
Some travel far and others near
Others cherish the peace that Dorset frees
Gorging on the country and the water’s rills
Enjoying the heart’s lift

For us all, Dorset has a message
Life has a distance for us to run
A gentle life, lacking fear
Not a world driving us to our knees
A kinder, nicer place

If only. But why not?
Dorset’s warm and gentle form
Surely seduces the senses
With a sense of what could be.
Feel wrapped and calm. Why not?

If you can’t see the scan / rhyme - alternate verses 2 by 2 then a closer. There’s a name for it.

Hey, Julianna - pay attention here. You are much loved and cared for by a whole group of people you’ve never seen. Be uplifted on the thoughts of so many. Each day we wonder how you are and offer up a small hope that, just for today, you’ll be fine. What a gift to be so much loved by so many. Chin up, treasure.

As for the rest of us - the most cruel response to unkindness is true laughter. They can’t handle that. Love to you all - Dad

6/1/2005

Dad’s back!!

Filed under: — Dad @ 10:17 am

Sorry to have missing for so long - much daily e mail traffic with / about therapists and discussing arcane therapy theory with bloke who’s in charge of Doctorate programme at a regional Uni. and wanted some input from me about things I knew. Good for the brain but leaves no mental strength / time for blog site.

Cold, drizzly day here. Playing Jazz a la Carte to cheer me up!

Car in for service, they have no idea whether ready today or tomorrow. Hmm. Loan car has buttons in funny places and so that was fun. Hate looking stupid in a car I’ve only driven for 5 mins!

Herself madly busy teeny-tiny gardening and off to darkest Kent tomorrow to see her Mum & Dad. Hope the weather improves for her. I’m getting myself organised for trip to Wales, Midlands, St.Albans. (Sorry about lunch, Sarah!). Plans changing on a daily basis. Never mind.

Took the kilt for an airing last Friday. Many nice compliments from women re ’smartness’. Kilt seen as great improvement on grungy male trousis. Went to printing company where everyone knows me and was whistled at by large over-round bloke. Feel worried about this.

Hope new kilt ordered will arrive in time for round-robin trip. Old mate in deepest Wales most keen I should stun locals. More hmm.

Not much else to say for myslelf, really. Feeling rather flat and uninspired.

Firstly thoughts for Julianna - hope you’re swinging along, taking one day at a time, treasure. Tell me you’re hanging in there.

Dad’s thoughts today?
Always do right. This will please some people and astonish the rest.
They thought that because they had power, they had wisdom. Oh how wrong they were.
Take care, all - Dad

5/20/2005

‘umble, ‘umble

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:39 pm

Thank you for your supportive / other forms of reply. I feel refreshed.

Clearly ‘The Midlands’ is a hot-bed of lust. Cor. So one answer is that Mrs W II has a very clear idea of where I’m going - she’s been there and eyeballed it. And whilst she doesn’t trust me to within an inch of my life she trusts the nice, kind, warm, shapely, soft-voiced - oh, go on - lady in whose house I shall be staying. The bad news is that the lady’s a serious player in the Social Services business and has the right to clap me in irons (a.k.a. ’sectioning’) if I step out of line. But she cooks a mean breakfast so it ain’t all bad.

Which, naturally, brings me to Sarah. Your bum-wriggle was irresisitible. I could buy you a (cheap) lunch on Saturday 18th. June if you like? Go on, risk it.

Highly busy day having to clear up for visit of WEB Design person and then have heavy-duty meeting. Herself’s teeny-tiny gardens will be featured some time soon.

Other than that have been doing admin for trip to Wales, Preston, Kenilworth, St.Albans and anywhere handy on the way. Found two decent hotels with good food and working on the last one. I’ll be done up by the time I get back!

That’s about it for now so I’ll hop off. Special thoughts for Julianna - hang in there treasure - ‘Just for today I will try to live through this day and not tackle all my life problems at once’. Works for me. Cheers all and goodnight - Dad

5/19/2005

Puts head under dustbin lid

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:34 pm

Yeah well it’s kind of OK and I’m drinking kind of decent wine from California and the weather is kind of awful.

Been slashed and battered by e amil and post today. The Headmaster of my old school says I lack ‘grace and charity’ and a fellow therapist thinks I’m horrid. I really don’t need this.

On the up-side, have planned ‘big trip’ around running workshop in Preston for therapists. Don’t ask, right? Who the fxxx goes to Preston anyway? I know, I know. Found really decent hotel in Wales with good restaurant. Spoke with owner, did deal on price. Will see old chum. Ditto kind of thing in Preston. Spoke with old friend (DON’T poke your nose in) in Midlands for laid-back, warm, smooth, sexy (who said that!!!) weekend and set up two days in Hertfordshire with more old friends. It don’t come better than that, I tell you. Herself egging me on - ‘take more days’ so she can have a week of peace.

Oh, I’m pxxxxd off. Miserable.

Waiting for chimney sweep clump of soot fell down chimney onto Chinese rug. Yellow Pages for rug cleaning. Spoke to pilloch. He wants £50 TO LOOK AT IT. Explained, in a civilised way, that I couldn’t see that as reasonable. Got earful. It’s a funny world.

Shit happens. If you let it take over - the bastards have won. So draw a deep breath and face them down. You know what? They can’t cope with that. Heh, heh. Love, Dad

5/17/2005

There’s always someone

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:16 pm

OK O ‘mally - (must be Irish - poor xxx) here I go in all honesty.

I’m part Scottish. I’m actually part MacGregor. (Watch out for your head - we’re a bit unbalanced in the violence department). Current tartan is Grant (because I also have a Grant link) and new tartan will be ‘old’ hunting MacGregor. Why old? (this is not for you - it’s for the non-understanding squalid masses) Because the colours were made from vegetable dyes and are much softer than ‘modern’ tartans. Why ‘hunting’? Because I don’t want a ‘dress tartan’ which tends to be bright red and all that stuff. Prefer low key. Gentle. Quiet.

Well you can wear a Celtic kilt which is probably one colour. Have you got one? Do you wear it? There are some great single colour kilts. Like homos we should ‘out’ ourselves. I’m proud of my history and I’m sure you must be too. Let’s show them!!! Check the Kilt Store on the web. They do Celtic stuff too. Buy now - join me!

As for rozzers - when you can find one I’m sure they’re OK. We have a ‘community rozzer’ and he’s a really nice bloke. Poor xxx. He can’t be everywhere.

Had a good idea about the sock knife. Stick it to sheath with (soft) plastic glue. It is obviously not intended for use - but I can rip it out if some stupid bxxxxr takes me on. Better answers on an old £10 note, please.

And thanks for your post. I liked it. Dad

And there’s more

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:23 pm

It’s lovely. Warm sunshine and Norah Jones a-’playin’ on de’ computin’ t’ing dere. Yo!

First - thanks Lordh for a kind comment. Together we can rock-and -roll.

The chimney cleaning man has done the job. He’s such a nice bloke. I charge him £5.50 for the tea and he charges me (used notes in the hand) for the chimney. I call that a win / win. Now all I have to do is clean up the place ready for next Winter.

WARNING - WARNING This afternoon I had the FIFTH cold call from One-tel trying to sell me their fone stuff. Now I’m not one to get angry - well not for the first minute, anyway, and this is the FIFTH dumbhead call I’ve had in 4 weeks. When I get a shade stoppy - wait - wait - he hangs up on me. Oh dear. I’m too old for that. I get de-red-haze-in-de-eyes. Go to the internet, fone, get lady in India (?) She doen’t know name / fone of Chairman of her company. Work away at it. AT LAST!!! One-tel owned by Centrica which owns wait-for-it British Gas. BG. Be Ghastly to people. Speak to personal assistant to MD of One-tel. Long story. Short version - send letter of apology and flowers for herself. Bets on a used bank note if I get either. BUT I’ve got his direct fone no. So he’s got two choices, really. I can be HORRID on the fone. If troubled by One-tel please ask. Heh, heh.

Oh, lovely fone + e mail from Kilt Store (in Scotland, OK?). LARGE parcel should be delivered tomorrow with SCOTTISH THINGS in. Oh my. Oh gosh. Can’t wait. Will swish down Broadstone Broadway (that’s what it’s called, alright?) with splendiferous kilt + smart stuff. Swish, swish. Eat your hearts out, girls. You think you can swing your hips? You ain’t never seen swinging feller in swinging kilt. Interesting problem. I will wear my skean dhu (that’s roughly it) meaning short knife with lovely stuff on handle in my sock as required. BUT it’s against the law. BUT it’s a cultural aspect of my cultural dress. Nick me and I’ll have you. Should be fun. Actually it won’t be. We have no police-persons in Broadstone - BUT occasionally a car with funny stripes on and a coloured roof-rack drives through. Traffic and wandering pedestrians require peering forward thro’ windscdreen to avoid hitting people + losing job + pension so unlikely to see skulking - NO - swinging - NO - person with swinging kilt strolling along. Watch this space.

Hey, world, a sunny evening combined with Chilean Merlot = current happiness. Think one. Tomorrow, phone someone you haven’t spoken to for ages. ‘Hey, how are you keepin’, friend?’ Life takes so much time and care away from us, so offer some to just one person tomorrow. Who knows? You might help them in a bad time. We need friends who call. Reach out - tomorrow - OK? DO IT! Sleep well, friends - Dad

It’s a GOOD day!

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:15 pm

The sun’s shining (it’s supposed to in Dorset so that we can look down on you others), life hasn’t bitten me (yet) today (but see below) and I’m playing Ruby Turner and that kind of stuff. Yeah - really throbs your internals, shakes your round-bits, dunnit!!

God has one Hell of a sense of humour. Having cleaned the fireplace to death and booked the chimney sweep for today (due at 5 o’clock) I felt happy. Serene. Superior, even. I can do this stuff. So yesterday a whole bundle-full of soot fell down, splat. OK in the tiled hearth BUT you-can’t-clean-this-up-you-prat dollop of soot splashed out onto the elegant, charming, Chinese rug in e + c pastel shades resting, innocently, in front of the f-f-f-ing fireplace. Well, that’s me stuffed with Herself. Take out second mortgage & buy new rug? She’s not silly, she’d notice. Well, at least I’ll always recognise OUR Chinese rug - the one with the dense black s-m-e-a-r swiped across it. Oh, you mean THAT smear? Give up, Dad.

End of term for Pin-Point Coaching lifts weight from heart. It worked out fine and they liked it. Aahh. Head getting seriously tense about Workshop in Preston for Solution Focussed Brief Therapists (well, you couldn’t make that up, could you). Think about offering therapy to therapists. Aargh. Mails flashing to & fro. ‘How many?’ I ask. ‘Some, depending.’ Oh goody, goody. Don’t ask.

So what else? Well fone call this am from (ex) wife of Client discussing ‘Counselling’ wif questions like - ‘If they say [that] what should I say?’ Answer, patiently. Invited (imagine throaty, low, vibrant voice) to ‘lunch’. Ponder which method Herself will use to remove my head / heart / (spec)tacles. But the lady needs expert help and I’m a SFBTherapist. Prefer ‘pist’. Nothing’s simple.

BUT I have a lovely focus in my life - Julianna. Bless you for the mail. Look beyond pain and distress. Dump the choice on me. Plan A or Plan B treasure. If you truly want to take another punt at it - YOU WILL FIND THE STRENGTH. ‘Cause you have the strength, right! If not, then not. Either way look beyond the ‘now’ to the ‘tomorrow’. If it works - SUPER. If it doesn’t work - hey there’s a whole electric world out there. Truly. Think options. Think choices. If it ain’t meant - then it ain’t meant. You have a whole lot of living to do - so re-shape your model. Your dearest wish is NOT the only wish. There IS a Plan B. The body is a funny thing. Very complex. MAYBE if you chilled on the subject it would work better. And if not, Plan B. Hey, honey-child, we’re all with you, you know. Report back.

Herself is back - I’ve got things to do. Today’s thought? There’s always a Plan B and always a tomorow. If you don’t like the plan asyou see it - draw another plan. Think out of the box. Hey, love to all - Dad

5/16/2005

Anuvver week

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:20 am

Weather fair, no music. Not in the mood.

Well I’m a vision of loveliness today in light chinos, cream shirt, silk tie, linen jacket. Been doin’ de Pin-Point Coachin’ all mornin’. Well it’s work, innit.

As you all know I’m (amongst other things) a Solution Focused Brief Therapist. Why couldn’t they call it a ‘Wodger’? So I’m on a world-wide e mail link of Wodgers. Asked why they do it and have been blown away by the replies from all around the place. Finland; Australia - cor. Phew! Will add their answers to my current research project.

But even more messages are sidelined by my Security System as ‘Spam’. I have a philosphical problem with that. Since I never respond to this stuff, why the xxxx do they keep sending it to me?

PLEASE will someone give me the name and address of just one of these perverts because I would like to eyeball him (surely, not her) and ask the stupid bxxxxr where his mind is at and why he chooses to annoy me? Further verbal violence may follow.

But what kind of people do they think I am? They think Iwould buy a simulated watch with no works. They think I would buy shares. They think I would gladly share all my bank details with them.

Above all, they think only male persons have computers. They also imagine that we are deeply into drugs. So ‘Farmacy’ is a word and Pxxxs’ is another one. ‘Extension’ (sounds xtremely painful to me) is a word. ‘Performance’ as in push-in - withdraw- repeat-n-times is a key issue.

Now I want to make the case for equal gender treatment here. Why is there no reference to maidenly activities / abilities? That just ain’t fair. Treat the girls jus’ like us boys, why don’t you? I can put up with the filth but not the discrimination. That really makes me CROSS!

Well, I’ve been asked to run a ‘Workshop’ at the National Conference of Wodgers. Isn’t that nice. Now the problem is which Hotel to stay in and how to avoid the other Wodgers. Why isn’t life simple?

Hey there Julianna - talk to me please. And for all of us, just take 5. A small moment on your life today to think about kindness to others and how lucky you are. Because we are. Have a good one - Dad

5/13/2005

I’m sorry about that

Filed under: — Dad @ 10:16 am

After some lovely days it’s not too good today. Am hunched over keyboard and playing Jools Holland.

So much has happened and so much time passed (awfully sorry about that when so many people were so nice to me) that I’ve got much to talk about.

Well after my last post (10 days ago - aargh!) what with one thing and another I had lots of written work to do, was helping Herself with teeny-tiny thingies (I WISH I could post foto’s to show you. Frequently described as ‘awesome’ by US customers) and brewing up for ‘the wedding’.

Collected flower arrangement for back window of car - cost equivalent of Zambia’s National Debt but was exquisite and colours just right. Subsequently taken from car and put in front of Happy Couple on Top Table - looked spiffing.

Was too afraid to try on suit for fear of cost of new one so v. relieved when I discovered suit still OK. Phew. Feel sorry for nervous tension of women faced with wedding. Wot to wear? Endless permutations and ignorance of style-choice of other women guests. It would freak me out. For me - suit (y) polished black shoes (y) black socks (y) white shirt (y) cuff links (y) underpinnings (y) (no fear of vpl - imagine female private chat with close friend - also female, what do men kno’ about this apart from me as past owner of ladies knicker shops? ‘Does my knicker elastic suit me around here, across here, along there - or [pause] no elastic? [shock, horror]) Ah, choice at last! Wedding tie (silk, blue / yellow) and matching silk pocket h/chief. Done.

Set off to collect Gold RR car (see previous post - keep up there) to be told ‘Sold that but thought you’d prefer this (dark blue Bentley Brooklands. Lust on a stick) Drained BP storage tanks to fill car and came home. Lovely chat with people who thought I’d changed SAAB for Bentley. Neighbour impressed, postman unimpressed.

Cruise majestically to venue. 1st. person I meet delightful 1st. wife person. We were to become ‘an item’ for the day. It was really good. Put ribbons & etc. on car - do job - enjoy all. Reg. Office / Church / Feast. Aaahh. Reduced to tears a number of times. Ah well.

Think I’ll leave it there. Many more happened but it’s going on too far.

Look back with sweetness and forward in hope. Bin the pain. Dad

5/3/2005

Progress report

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:10 pm

Been busy today but it’s time I reported in. Herself is watching recorded ER and I’m playing late night jazz. Hope you all had a good holiday weekend. We did - lots of teeny-tiny gardens to make.

Firstly thanks again to all those who helped over geo-thingy stuff. I WILL be getting back to you. Taking initial action I truly have bought a kilt for the purpose and look forward to wearing one again. Should be here Friday. Look on local faces should be worth it! Asked local off-licence lady - v.nice person - if I should wear it into the Village. She said if I did she’d bribe me to stand outside like a tobacco store Indian (if you don’t understand that reference, please ask) to act as crowd-puller and put up her commission.

World can be a nice place but I’m going to share a secret. NO-ONE must know till after Saturday. Middle son getting second-time married to v. nice person. I was tasked with providing wedding car. I have a history of this and it’s great fun.

I LOVE cars - well anything with 4 plus wheels really. Well until I bought the Harley. By God that was fun. Anyway, I started driving by driving trucks for my Dad’s business so anything that can’t take a few tons of freight is pretty quiet stuff for me. I’ve told you all about driving before I was old enough to have a licence and how I finally got one - if you missed that let me know and I’ll tell the story again. Anyway, my first car was a 1930-something Triumph Gloria. Magic! I loved that car. In the fifties there was a petrol called National Benzole which was ’sporty’ and it was the only stuff I’d use in it. I paid 1/6d a gallon (one shilling and sixpence in real money = 7.5 pence today which I reckon should be the right price. To save you looking it up that is 1.7 pence / litre. No, really.). Then two Morris Minors, one old Wolesley, three Hillmans (super cars), an Austin Cambridge, an MG Magnette, two ‘clamshell’ Rovers, one Triumph 2000, about four Mercedes before they were as common as muck. When I drove my first one I even had a Police Traffic Car pull in when I was parked to ask if they could look it over. In those days when I put my Merc. on a Company parking lot people peered out of windows to see who it was.

So then I needed to change my car again but I didn’t like the new Mercs. I was having lunch with my Bank Manager (they used to do that then) and idly tossed the question into the (and another bottle, please) conversation and he said ‘Why not buy a Rolls?’ I fell about. He said ‘Think about it. A second-hand Rolls is extremely good value for money and will meet your need to have a status car to promote your business’. Well, there’s no point in HAVING a Bank Manager if you don’t humour him. Or her. Whatever. So I went down to the RR Dealer, pushed open the s-m-o-o-t-h door and met the guy in the suit with the fresh rose-bud in his buttonhole. Ah. ‘Don’t get your hopes up’ I said after which we talked cars. Three months later I returned and he said ‘Good morning Mr. X - I knew you’d be back’. Whew. Then I drove a RR and he said nothing for 20 minutes. ‘You’re not very happy with this, are you?’ He was right - it was a superb car but I was uncomfortable. ‘You should drive a Bentley, not a RR’. He was right. I bought one that day. Time and Bentleys passed. The owner retired and closed the Dealership, the Service Manager with whom I had established a great relationship set up and I bought my Bentleys from him. He’s super. My wife (the accounting person) and I helped him and his wife over their initial busines problems. So we’re pals. Where was I?

Well, I sold my last Bentley on my 65th.birthday. So I went to see Steve and said ‘Son / Wedding / Car - can you help?’ ‘See me Tuesday before’. So I did, this morning. Nice chat then we look out over a park of about 15 Bentleys and RR’s. ‘Which one would you like, Joe?’ says Steve. ‘Um. Up to you’ ‘Well it’s a weddin’ innit? They like a Rolls at a wedding. Would you mind driving one?’ ‘No’ ‘Let’s find one a nice colour’ Which is how it is that I collect a GORGEOUS Gold Rolls to drive for my son’s wedding. BUT NO-ONE KNOWS THAT - it’s a secret surprise. Then I had to buy the special spray of flowers to put in the back window. The price I paid, everyone who sells flowers must have a field full of RR’s.

You see, we all need good friends. Which means we need to be good friends to others. Managers in Off-licences, people who are ‘only’ (I LOATHE that word) service people, your next door neighbour. Make with the friendship and when you need it, you get the ball back.

When I had my Bentleys, every now and again people would come and ask if I would kindly drive my Bentley for the Bride. Oh how I loved doing that. My only restriction was that I wouldn’t wear a ’shuvver’s cap’. But the fun I had driving Brides to Church and the happy couple to the do. And they were so nice to me. Apparently I was good at calming bridely nerves and spreading good humour. Should I buy a ’shuvver’s cap’ - oh, and a golden RR - and do it for a hobby?

Good night and bless you all.

4/27/2005

A special word

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:33 pm

Wow!! So much help from so many nice people! Now I’ve got to get a small widget thingy and go geupping and cacheing stuff even if I look stupid doing it. ‘Excuse me, Madam, but I have reason to believe you have a small cache in your tights’. ‘Youwot!!!’ ‘My small thingy says so.’ ‘When I’ve finished with you, you pervert, you won’t have a thingy, small or not. And looking at you, probably small verging on infinitesimal.’ I can hear Herself snickering in the background.

Thank you to so many of you. LordH - I can’t believe you’re old enough to remember when there were MAINFRAMES in their own buildings with many acolytes in white coats who didn’t know what the Hell was wrong with it either. And little holes in cards and stuff. But you know whereof you speak.

Lois (as in Lois Lane / Superman) I’m confused. Other comment suggests you are a male person. Please see separate mail for expression of strong feelings and wish to meet in a haven for strong liquors. And the loan of a widget. Please don’t feel sad. Someone has to live in Ringwood. And, no, you did not treat my blog as a rubbish room. You are ever welcome.

Then there is the lovely Jane with a clear-sighted view of teknolodgy. Oh, Jane, I can feel strong emotion coming on because of your money and careless disregard for it. E mail me for my bank a/c details. You would make me orgasmically happy (sit down at the back, there) if you took me on as a Project to be funded and Herself will never know. Our secret will be safe with me. The money is better off in my bank than in the excrutiatingly foul hands of the present Gov’t which it appears sundry TOTAL MORONS will wish upon us next week yet again.

By the way - if any of you vote for this fxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx labour lot PLEASE don’t speak to me. Ever again. For any reason whatsoever. My Country has been half ruined already and I can’t bear the thought that sundry idiots will let blair / brown go on to wreck the other half.

And next the very able Carol. Yes, a veritable Princess amongst women. You express yourself as a ‘girl’. Joy. You go g - thingummy stuff ’sometimes’ which means you are a winsome creature who may - or then again, may not. Yes! And, as a modern multi-tasking wholly rounded (in an intellectual way) reperesentative of modern woman-hood you can read a map, use a computer and phone people in synchronicity. Yeah!! Let us lust together by geo-whatsiting at the SAME TIME on the SAME DAY within 100 miles of each other. Can life hold more bliss than this, I ask? E mail me at your convenience or even at home.

And then there’s the delightful Sarah. Her soul sees their first gps thingy as yellow. Not just a piece of teknolodgy but someting with a colourful soul. She can’t bear to part with it. I imagine her cleaving it to her heaving breast (singular - pay attention). And such a wise admonition. ‘Make sure you like it before you spend your money’. If only she’d told me that before I - - -.

Which brings me to brisk Paul.There’s no point in being a Dad if one can’t speak forcefully to the occasional child. I will treat Henry as you suggest. And thank you for quieting my engineering mind. Yup. gpsr does it for me. I can rest peacefully, chum.

Well, if you put up with this to the end I leave you with TWO thoughts. Julianna - talk to me!! Please! And offering gentleness to others calms the stress you may feel yourself. Do it, for me, tomorrow. Love to you all and so much thanks - Dad

Puzzled of Poole

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:11 am

This is a techno-blog, I’m afraid! But girls please read on. There’s something in it for you!

Firstly many thanks for prompt / enthusiastic replies to cry for help over purposeful exercise. Thanks for explaining geocache. I was roughly right but totally wrong in reality! As an (old) engineer (one can never be an ‘ex-engineer’) that about sums up much of my experience in engineering. I was never a Civil Engineer (tho’ normally a polite one) because if you crock it, the bridge falls down, with something very big and very expensive on it and people come looking for you. If it had people on it, off you go to Peru with a quite different name and no pension. As a Mechanical Engineer, quite often the engine never ran again and sometimes something went ‘thump’ and stopped. Which is oddly satisfying providing one appears remorseful.

Anyway, Herself was oddly excited by this geo-thingy idea and endorsed it in a suspiciously hearty way. ‘Just the thing’ ‘You’ll really enjoy that’ ‘ Just like the good old days in Scouts, Armed Forces, w.h.y.’ ‘You can go off and play to your heart’s content whilst pleasing old-friend GP and becoming slimmer-lined than currently - wear old trousis in wardrobe again’. Actually if I were to take it up I’d buy a second-hand kilt. It’s the only thing to wear when hiking about. So why do women wear trousis? There are some things I’ll never understand. Anyway, why am I suspicious? Much talk of car - journeys with no deadline - admire soothing countryside - stay cosy little pubs - no need to hurry back. The truth of the matter which any woman will have realised 5 lines up is that now I am ’semi-retired’ (so much more elegant than saying ‘out of work’) I’m a bxxxxy nuisance and never go away on business trips thus giving Herself a breather and some quality time / space of her own. Hmm. I also get the feeling that despite my proficiency with maps (I used to teach this stuff in the Services) and her problem with them - (driving SOUTH is lethal and I have to memorise the route half-day ahead to be able to ignore ‘take the next left’ which, when looking at a North-up map whilst going South, means ‘right’) she rather hopes I’ll lose myself and have to phone home for help. Sheer pride and lack of a paid up mobile will prevent this of course.

Speaking of mobiles, I have one solely to call for help if the car stops against my wishes. I never use it otherwise and have no idea what the number is. Whilst I can make my computer sit up and dance, I can’t use my current phone. I need to find out how much credit it’s got left on it but despite (voluminous) instruction manual on kitchen table (big manual always a v.bad sign), head in hands, restorative glass available, I can’t make the thing tell me the answer. Herself who has one she uses to phone sister and others says I have to phone a number. But that’s not what the manual says. Menu; scroll down to item 3; press enter; scroll down to item 8 ‘credit’. That’s all it says. She claims I’m obstinate. I claim that any sensible engineer would link phone-twiddling to sim card ID and get auto-connect. But thinking that and swearing doesn’t bring about this miracle.

Did you notice (those of you old enough) that it took 10 YEARS for the on / off button on a PC to move fromthe BACK, where right-thinking engineers said it should be next to power-input cable, to the FRONT which is where the user sat. So for 10 years we were all leaning over the desk fiddling about amongst sprouting wires to press to bxxxxy switch. BEFORE you all sneer - I’m off to the CarPhone Warehouse (next to PC World) 5 mins from here. They sold me the thing, they can tell me if it needs money in the box. We might be in lovely Dorset but not cut-off from civilisation. Oh no. On second thoughts a sad picture of my life if eyeing new kit in PC World is a high point in my week, which it is. Sigh.

Which naturaly brings us to something known as a gps. Not a GPS. So obviously something small. Using the same intuitive logic as I did for geochache (see above for result of that one) I deduce this is a Global Positioning - - er?- - System? But a gps is a piece of kit and a piece of kit is, by definition, not a system merely part of one. So how do I find and buy a gb-part of a-s? Simple. Enquire on the internet. So I did. As happens so often with this type of quest I am now equally confused but to a much higher degreee than previously.

Info: There are ‘n’ varieties of gps thingy. They range in price (always one way of figuring something out. Buy the one with everything on it even if you don’t want to land on Mercury for an away-day) from £too much to ‘how on earth - - ?’ Hmm. Visit another site. This one has ‘Customer Reviews’ - that’s more like it. One poor deluded soul says ‘It’s quite intuitive and I mastered (?) most (note, merely ‘most’) functions in a couple of hours’. Aaargh!! Flashing red lights. Intuitive equals ‘ Look - Press - Bingo!’ Two hours equals BIG manual (see above re big manual warning and can’t find out how much credit I’ve got on the phone). Cripes! Another punter says, airily, ‘Having used the basic model for two years I bought Model X. It was difficult to use and at times the altimeter said I was below sea-level - -’ Aargh! He’d (must be he - any woman would have had more sense than to buy something like that. Unless he upset her and she gave it to him for Christmas thinking ‘He’ll be 5 fathoms down off the Goodwin Sands before he realises it and I can get on with my life and keep the CD’s) been using one for two years and this one was DIFFICULT?

Then I learned that I needed a PC. Hmm. I thought the little lower-case gps widget simply told me I was at X. No, I have to hump a PC about as well. Then there’s maps. Yes, well, I know about maps but some of these annoying and very expensive doodads have maps, or more maps, or no maps. One tells me what my heart-rate is. Another tells me how many steps I have taken (serious ones, believe me) What has that to do with whether I’m about to fall off a cliff in the pitch dark? Then there are ‘way points’. Now come on, guys. When I was in the RAF, because I wore glasses, whilst I was taught to fly a plane I couldn’t have any wings (Yup. I can do it. If it was built before 1955 otherwise they’ve changed all the knobs) so I was also taught how to navigate one. Planes need way-points. On the ground you need road junctions, paths, compass bearings an’ stuff. Oh, and big boots and a kilt if male. And a rucksack with life-saving kit. And a torch. And waterproof matches. DON’T SNICKER at the back there. The New Forest where I see certain cache-orientated people operate is NOT a safe environment. It is also, in many places, soggy. My waterproof matches are tepid tea whilst your pathetic, trousis-wearing, where’s-the-pub approach merely gets you in front of a roaring log fire with a sustaining glass of stuff and a big plate of organic lunch. But where’s the fun in that?

SO, what the hxxl should I buy? And why do I need a PC? What was wrong with a compass and a map?

HELP!!! Meanwhile I bet every woman reading this (what an arrogant assumption. I should have said ‘Should any woman waste her time reading this) smiles gently at the follies of man-hood and quietly puts a nourishing casserole in the oven and cracks open a bottle of nourishing red wine. You just know it does you good. So does the wine.

Enuff, Dad. Herself has a mate visiting from Australia. She went out as a £10 Pom (If you don’t remember that ask in secret and I’ll explain) and they both lived at the YMCA (no jokes at the back, right?). I hope they have a wonderful reunion today.

Gosh. Technology should be made for us. We are not made for technology. And Julianna - if you haven’t read this blog to the end - you have too much work to do. Send me a message. please!! And chin up, sweetheart.
Dad

4/26/2005

Help, please

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:23 pm

Thanks, folks - and DO try The Tincture.

But what on earth is ‘geocaching’? Please? Pretty please?

Geo as in something to do with the world / earth / locality / wozzit. Cache is a box full of stuff either real or in cyberworld.

How will having a cache of earth help me to exercise after I’ve filled it and put it away in a corner?

Sobs pitifully. Brightens up - The Tincture cures sobbing, too.

Cheers - ancient and out-of-date Dad

Phew!

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:41 am

Not Dorset weather today. It’s mizzling and ‘orrible. Eva Cassidy on my computer. A refund of £54 from my gas / electric supplier though - doesn’t get much better than that. Saw the Doc this am and as predicted we had an animated discussion about F 1 racing and spent a moment or two on my state of health. So I can’t be too close to falling off the twig but I MUST TAKE MORE EXERCISE.

I am a Project person. Something with a begining, a middle and an end. The reason I have had no lawn in my gardens for the last 20 years is because mowing the bxxxxy thing twice a week is boring and horrible and never ending. NOT a Project, just a chore. Well exercise for the sake of exercising is the same. As I drive about I see people of all three genders huffing and puffing in unattractive clothing and horrid squidgy footwear to get nowhere except home again. And the same tomorrow? I see on the TV that people pay VERY SERIOUS MONEY to go to a warehouse filled with machinery and mindlessly push, pull, run - whatever - often watching television because the whole process is mind-numbingly stupid.

So to exercise I have to have a reason to use my musculature. Pull the rope to haul up a sail; walk along the street to visit the bank - w.h.y. Not sure how I’m going to tackle this, but my long-standing friend and Doctor, who understands me only too well, must be obeyed. Buy another boat, I hear you cry. Well, yes, that would be nice. But one definition of a boat is a hole in the water into which you throw money. Buy a fishing boat and EARN money? (Poole is a fishing port as well as a commercial and private one and has its own harbour for registered fishing boats - you should visit. Warn me first.) But I’d have fish scales on my wooly and my hands would get all red and raw. Got any good ideas?

Meanwhile have been up to the Village to the Bank (that cheque), Boots (scrip from Doc), flower shop (thanks to daughter for help in recent emergency), take watch in for new battery (would you like the bracelet cleaned? No, just make the dead watch twirl round again, please, thank you), paper / sweetie shop (just to say hello and buy bag of special clove sweets), grog shop for further supplies given that Doc says alcohol intake good for heart problem and being a BIG CHAP I can intake more than 21 units / week. Top limit unspecified. I did say he was an old friend. Bought makings for Father’s Tincture (his term) which is equal shots of brandy and port mixed. Experience tells me that this is PERFECT for any kind of tummy trouble; helps any kind of mental distress; should be avoided before signing anything involving the payment of money; leads to deep and satisfying afternoon kip. Urp. More than two and you will assume an horizontal position on whatever passes for the floor when you finish it. Urp major.

Until I came to write about the sheer cliff-hanging excitement of going to the Village I truly hadn’t thought how much I gain from going there. Social interaction, commercial interaction, civilty and helpfulness. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. We should all vote for that.

What lies before me? Writing a savage letter to a person whose title is - wait for it - ‘Antisocial Behaviour Co-Ordinator’ at the Council. Well, I hesitate to consider what limited grasp of the English language resounds in the Council but to me that means that he actually organises - and co-ordinates - antisocial behaviour. And I am paying for him to do that. Hmm.

Because the level of beastliness in the Village is much lower than the level of beastliness elsewhere he says nothing will be done - until our level of beastliness equals or exceeds the level elsewhere. You couldn’t make it up. I intend to offer him intellectual pain. Contributions in a plain brown envelope please.

Oh, the sun is out. The Poole micro-climate has scored again. Lunch beckons. Hey, friends, giving an idiot a nagging toothache by letter means that you are standing up for us all. It may not work first time but it surely causes pain. And that’s a start to recovering our world. Love - Dad

4/25/2005

I bet you’re sorry now

Filed under: — Dad @ 8:16 pm

What - all these Dad-blogs in one day? Well, it’s your fault because you’ve inspired me.

Firstly, crushed, I learn that LordH and I met - ‘years to go’ (is that a takeaway relationship?) I’m glad, and can only hope that you have a kind memory of me, LH. May we meet up again before too long? As one totters towards the end of a life filled with insensate government interference one harks back to those with whom one was friendly in the free and untrammelled days of one’s youth. To my absolute delight a wonderful lady with whom I enjoyed a passionate teenage dalliance is coming down to visit us soon and bringing another lady friend of those days. Bliss! Herself is keen to see what took my fancy before I took her fancy, wozzit.

Actually, despite the obnoxious disguise he assumes, I think that LordH and I are twin souls. And, yes, I treat everyone on their merits. The trouble is that the well-meaning chap is often a bit adrift in the factual department. NO, white people did NOT oppress blacks and were NOT responsible for the slave trade. The ’slavers’ were blacks and Arabs who had been capturing and trading black slaves for ages within the African continent. They then created a new market with white traders to whom they sold the black slaves they had acquired. History is history but let’s know ALL of it, not just a biased view. Oh, and it was us Brits that put an end to the (overseas) slave trade. It still continues in Africa today. But we all turn a blind eye.

Which leads on to Africa generally. What is all this tommyrot about British ‘oppression’ in Africa? We brought law, discipline, schools, hospitals and honesty. So called ‘colonies’ were downright lucky when we ran the place by comparision with the debauched scandals of today’s African states. Slaughter a few thousand members of a different tribe, why not. We would have sent Saunders of the River (read the books) to stop that dead. Build another palace; bank another n million of overseas aid in my Swiss account; beggar the black peasants; buy my 10 wives brand new big cars whilst the peasants’ babies die of starvation and AIDS. And people think that is better than our defence of, care for and development of the people for whom we were responsible? READ THE HISTORY, DAMNIT!!!

It’s bed time. But read the history and don’t believe the totally perverted nonsense pedalled by people with a subversive axe to grind. We did a great job when we had an Empire and the people for whom we cared were very fortunate. We have nothing for which to apologise and they have much for which to be thankful - when we ran the place.

Night falls and life stills. Time to rest and reflect on the fortune of the day, the small kindnesses we’ve done to others and the kindnesses done to us. Life is as good as we want to see it. Sleep well - Dad

For your amusement

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:14 pm

You know when you phone some lot the first thing you hear is a recorded message advising you that this call is being recorded for training and quality assurance purposes? Well obviously they record all of them.

I’ve been having some fun with a company that made a nuisance of itself to me on the phone. I teach people about this stuff and have literally written the book about it so it irritates me when they haven’t read the book. So I asked to speak to the manager and we got on fine - I believe in laughing with people even though there may be a problem. And I asked for a copy of the recording.

Today a nice person phoned to say that their QA dept. wouldn’t allow the recording to be copied for me.

So I asked for another Manager because I’m entitled to a copy. Gasp. Hiccup. I helpfully suggested that they phoned their Solicitor and got details of the Data Protection Act. BECAUSE, friends, I am entitled by law to ask for and receive a copy of any records that they have. Which includes the afore-mentioned copy.

Not a lot of people know that so you might like to keep it up your sleeve until you’re feeling irritated or mischievous.

Give someone a worrying day! Heh, heh

Yours, (fairly) evil Dad. (The blog strikes back!!)

Success!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:52 pm

Delighted to hear from LordH in response to previous blog that he doesn’t agree with ANYTHING I said! So I must be doing something right! Actually methinks he protesteth a bit too much because I bet a pound to a penny that he agrees with me that people with differing views are fully entitled to hold them. So lose 10 points for over-generalisation, LordH!!

Ah, the cut and thrust of debate. The trouble is that there is too little of it nowadays. Why should people be ’shamed’ into keeping quiet about their feelings? Talk never killed anyone but it surely makes those with a brain (please would the other three who are not of our blog-ring put their hands up at the back there?) think a bit. Having a facet of life presented in a way one had never considered is a great benefit.

That’s the trouble with all this PC nonsense. It leads directly to no sense hence no thinking. If someone is proud of Britain, (sorry, some lousy government put in power by a miserably small 20-odd [very odd] percent of the National electorate has destroyed Britain and replaced it with sundry regions) then some do-gooder cries ‘xenophobia’ and tries to put that person down. Manipulation and distortion is no way in which to respond to open honesty. Yet it happens all the time. And we let it.

I imagine that LordH is quite a good bloke and would be good to talk to. But if he looked at me and thought ‘I don’t like blokes with a moustache’ why should he be forced to talk to me? Because I have a ‘right’ to inflict my moustache on anyone? Worse still - consider the awful PC conflict if I took a shine to a blog person of undefined gender (because I’m in enough trouble here) who said ‘I prefer not to have people with moustaches around me’. Aaargh! Whose right is right?

I think that all this talk of ‘rights’ is rubbish in the way in which it is being forced upon us. The so-called ‘rights’ are not rights at all. They are the hymn of the perverted-minded. In order to live together peaceably we have repsonsibilities to others and to society in general. ‘Rights’ seekers seem a bit short on responsibilities. Funny that.

My moustache is, of course, an analogy for the gross indecency of forcing people to put up with circumstances they abhor in the name of PC. Unless the question is politically sensitive to the appalling government imposed upon us by - - (see above). If I happen to be a person of colour and a believer in Islam (and there’s nothing whatsoever wrong with either of those definitions) then I can say what I like and behave how I like. If I am a person of no colour (a.k.a.white) and possibly a follower of a Christian religion or, indeed, of no religion whatsoever, then I’d better bite my tongue.

Sorry, but I believe in a level playing field. I have many friends of varying colours and various religions and both enjoy and respect them all. They have taught me much. Their homelands have their standards to which I adhere whenever I visit. If in your land you don’t drink alcohol, then neither will I. It is your land. But what of my land? This govt. has no respect for me or my land. Having debated changing my Church, should I change my country as well?

Cor, crumbs, this blogging business is heavy thinking. Which is a great bonus for us all.

I’m a few glasses of the blessed malt into lunchtime. May small peace come to you and may a small crumb of time bring you peace. Peace - it’s a gracious thing. Think about it. Dad

Stunned of Dorset

Filed under: — Dad @ 10:23 am

Well, crumbs. Thanks to all of you who took the time and trouble to straighten my head out. And I’m sorry for my unedifying episode of self-pity. Not Dad at all, really, but it just caught up with me. ESPECIAL ‘Oi’ to Julianna. No, J, I didn’t mean you and can’t bear the thought of not being here for you. So I’m back on the blogging trail again.

Time to move on. Off to see the Doc tomorrow for the regular check-up and I’m fed up with all that. Nothing seems to change but I get torn off a strip for failure to do various things. The one bright spot is that we always discuss F 1 racing during the season and Sunday’s race was a humdinger. Marred greatly by ITV putting forever of ads on in the closing laps when excitement was at its peak. If they pulled that stunt during a soccer match there’d be a riot and their offices would be burned down!

The saga of Pope Ben the umpteenth has been interesting. I was a devoted Anglican as a youth and sang in the Cathedral choir and all that stuff. (Actually known as St.Albans Abbey and a lovely place it is. A big town in Roman times known as Verulamium and the Abbey tower is built in part with Roman bricks.) Anyway, when up at Cambridge and in need of some serious counselling over a big problem I got ‘brushed off’ by the senior Church-person to whom I turned for advice. Slowly ‘my’ Church went from bad to worse (in my opinion) and has slipped steadily down the slope ever since. The various details don’t matter because they affect me and not others but for years now I have visited Churches and other centres for worship when they were empty for quiet prayer and contemplation. But I like some of the things I hear about Ben. Yes I hated it when priests in his Church and mine suddenly faced the congregation instead of facing East and leading the congregation. They moved the altar. They turned services into a kind of party with everyone sitting around. I gather he’s not up for that. If he brings back the Tridentine Mass (the one in Latin) as well I might join up. I cannot forgive ‘my’ Church for removing a beloved and entirely satisfactory Bible and Book of Common Prayer and replacing them with rubbish.

That idea of moving to the RC Church begs various complex ethical ideological questions, though. I believe that abortion at any time is infanticide - but if someone’s going to do it anyway it’s better in a controlled environment than in a frowsy insanitary back street place. So it’s a matter of degree. But murdering an unborn soul created by a deliberate choice (even if it were unwise or over-enthusiastic) is not a ’simple’ lifestyle choice like a change of hair-style - it’s still murder. Hmm.

I can’t follow the row about contraception, because the RC Church believes in ‘the rythm method’ (however fluky that is) and that’s contraception. So if they accept the principle why cavil about the method? And that’s without the ethical problem of AIDS.

As to other conflicts, I’m with Papal thinking. If you want to have women priests or homosexual priests - then go set up a separate Church for it, don’t highjack the old one. That way people who liked their Church the way it was are untroubled.

‘Liberal’ isn’t ‘right’, it’s merely someone else’s viewpoint. I don’t mind what people think or do providing they don’t try to force it on me if I don’t agree. And not agreeing does not make me ‘wrong’. So I’m entitled to have my views respected, too.

Taking our ‘old’ Church away from us has caused a very long-standing friend of mine and myself enormous distress in the case of the beautiful St.Albans Abbey itself where we have both worshipped all our lives - and he very frequently since he lives in St.Albans. Now there is an openly declared homosexual Dean there. His shadow has desecrated our lovely House of Prayer and neither of us can bring ourselves to set foot in it. I don’t give a damn about his personal life but I DO give much more than a damn because neither he nor the confounded lunatic Bishop who appointed him have the right to hurt people like my friend and I. Go off and join the American bloke and found the ‘New Church for those of my persuasion’. I’ll gladly defend your right to do that.

Whew, Dad’s back on the angst scene again. I wonder what percentage of readers will agree with me? Hmmm.

Well I must dash out to post more of herself’s miniature gardens. Looking back on your support for me reminds me - it’s amazing how much strength others can share with you when things are tough. With my love and thanks - Dad

4/23/2005

Oh well

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:42 pm

I’m not having a good week. And my blog stuff is not of general interest. Well, thanks - at least I know where I am. Henry caught me up in this for the best of reasons and, thanks, H, it was fine whilst it lasted.

I offered my skills for free - and there was a nibble or two then retrieved. I offered my soul. Of no interest. Well, it doesn’t need to be. Dad should never have tried to join a circle of friends young enough to be, indeed, my children.

I wish you all well. This post closes Dad’s blog. BUT if I can help you in any way I’m still here for you - albeit in the background. Mail Henry and ask for me.

Dad’s passing thought? Seek no return for the concern you offer. It’s sufficient that you offered with a clear heart.

Love you all and goodbye - Dad

4/15/2005

Oh dear me

Filed under: — Dad @ 3:54 pm

Well it was frosty this morning but the day is mild now. Listening to Chet Atkins again because it’s been a bit fraught.

Firstly - Hi Julianna - hang in there treasure. It’s a really hard time for you but I’m here and I’m sure the blogger-general mob are all with you, too. Breathe deeply. Think pos. If it’s meant it’ll work. If not, you are an ace person and there is an ace world out there for you. With care and love - Dad.

Otherwise it’s been an up-and-down day. Exciting mails about my Project including a great surprise. And then there’s the sxxt. I called a Gov’t quango for confirmation of something and I get this TOTAL MORON. He uses words that they’ve invented and I’ve never heard of and when I ask him ‘Wot that?’ he acts stupid. At one stage I explain that I pay his wages so please will he just shut up and answer my (reasonable) questions? But no. So this afternoon I speak to his Boss who explains all in simple terms, offers constructive help and is a really nice person. Where on earth do the morons come from? And who is stupid enough to employ them and pay them with my money? Life’s a bxxxxr.

And despite all of that the opinion poll says sxxt faced blair is 5 points ahead. WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH PEOPLE??????

So perhaps I’m not having a good day after all. Go on, cheer me up. I really need it.

Have I a calm word? So long as you can laugh at them, they haven’t won. Even if they win the battle, they haven’t won the war. Cheers, all - Dad.

4/13/2005

Yes, I’m here!

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:01 pm

Thanks to Sarah for various helpful comments in the past. This blog is in response to her latest question. What is Brief Therapy?

Responding to another part of her comment whilst I have a detailed knowledge of female undergarments (having run a small chain of shops called Top Drawer selling such things ) this is different. Not more important, because NOTHING could be more important than a lady’s undergarments - but. Oh, and I’ve bought more pairs of tights and wicked knickers than any of you will buy in a lifetime so don’t bother to take me on. But if you like I’ll tell you all about it some time. Oh, my, was it fun. And then there were the shows.

Well now. You’ve all heard of Psychotherapy. (Listen up at the back, there) In American films / novels / and listening to John Cleese you will have come across people who go to see their Analyst every Thursday at 2 o’clock (or whatever) and have been doing so for YEARS. A ‘usual’ p-therapist tries to take you back to your very beginning and create a ‘different you’ in order to solve a problem you have. There are various branches of p-therapy (PLEEZE don’t ask) but that’s how it works.

About 30 years ago a small group of p-therapists in America were (or was, even) shooting the breeze and probably ingesting a liquid relaxant when one of them said if we are seeing people for YEARS then we’re not doing a very good job. Gulp. Pause. Lift glass / pour from bottle. Think. (I wasn’t there but a small experience of life suggests that is what would have happened). ‘Erm’ ‘Urp, pardon’ ‘Umm’ might well have been the response.

After a while someone hit on the idea that instead of changing the world for someone, why not FOCUS on the current problem that brought the Client to see us and try to create a SOLUTION - either complete or partial - that would make their life better. And why not make this short and sharp as in BRIEF. From this came the concept of SOLUTION FOCUSED BRIEF THERAPY. And I am one of those. An SFBTherapist (or ‘a’ if you want to be picky and think the words not the letters).

We share information about cases (but not names) and the AVERAGE number of sessions with a Client is just 3. If it gets as far as 10 then we cut the Client off and direct them elsewhere because they are becoming dependent upon us (which is why people see their Analyst for YEARS) and that is NOT the idea.

We have certain processes in common and other parts of what we do are individual to us. I start off trying to explain that I’m like a Coach (the trainer not the bus). I’m here to help you do something you can do for yourself - you just need a nudge and some ideas with my support. And it works A TREAT.

I’m trying to learn how to do this over the internet and call Julianna as evidence. Hey - J - I’m here for you but you’re doing it FOR YOURSELF. Right? But I’m still here, love. I bet you’re hanging in there and every day is a bright new day.

Is what we do all bxxxxxxt and waving corn, as the phrase has it? No, it’s very serious stuff and it helps people in all sorts of ways. But I DON’T want to re-invent you, I just want to help you cope with today’s problem and solve it totally - or if not make it bearable. IT WORKS!!

So thanks, Sarah, for making me explain. And I really want to help people - in private. Mail windsor@power-base.co.uk and let’s talk. To bloggers it’s free, it’s private, and what have you to lose? But you might gain a whole lot.

Phew! Bye for now.

Dad’s few words after that? You’re never alone. There is no sadness or distress that is not suffered by others, too. There’s nothing wrong with seeking respite and a helping hand from a concerned person outside your circle of family and friends. And let’s find a solution together. Cheers, all - Dad

I’m sorry!!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:12 pm

I’ve been severely castigated for bloglessness. Crushed, I am. But I’ve had a lot on, world. Honest!

Somebody was very foolish and you might enjoy the story. The phone rings. ‘I’d like to speak to the person who pays the phone bill’. ‘That’s me’. ‘Are you a BT customer?’ (For the Colonials that stands for British Telecom. Don’t ask.) ‘Yes’ (True, but I pay them for line rental - NOT calls made. But he didn’t ask.) ‘Oh good, I can save you 70% on your phone bill!’ ‘You can? A whole 70%?’ ‘Yes Mr. xxx we can.’

Now I have to explain something. I’m not a Lawyer (that’s for our out-of-Country friends - down here in the Mother of Parliaments and of most other Countries we call them a Solicitor. Well, you can’t throw real bricks over the internet. But it’s TRUE!!!) however I have spent much of my life negotiating and dealing with Contracts - so I know something about Contract Law (but by no means all of it). It’s a nasty world out there so I have a tape recorder fitted to my phone. If you said it - I can prove it. That’s surprised a lot of people over time and normally costs them. Heh, heh. So my recorder hums away quietly.

‘Well, thank you. I’m happy to acept the contract you offered’. ‘So you’d like to sign up with xxxxxxtel?’ ‘No, I simply accepted your offer’. ‘How much do you pay BT each quarter for your phone calls?’ ‘I don’t. I pay them line rental’. ‘Who (don’t rise up in anger about this abuse of the English language) do you pay for your calls?’ ‘xxxxx’ ‘Oh well, that’s different.’ ‘In what way?’ ‘Their call charges are much lower than BT’s’. ‘Yup’ ‘Well we can help you with - - - (don’t bother)’ ‘But I don’t make that kind of call’. ‘Well thank you for listening’. ‘Thank you for our verbal contract’. ‘What?’ ‘A contract need not be in writing, it can be verbal’. ‘Huh?’ ‘We have a verbal contract which states that you will pay me 70% of my call charges’. ‘No we don’t!!’ ‘Yup, we have’

I’m not cruel. I’m not unreasonable. I’m cuddly Dad. So I said if they sent me a cheque for 70% of my call charges for one year I would agree that the contract would be null and void. I had to get to the upper echelons before someone sighed and said -’It’s in the post.’

There can be a verbal contract - providing you can prove it.

Here speaketh your Dad who can be fairly wicked. Just ask.

Oh, and by the way I’m trying to explore the success of Brief Therapy by internet. Please ask me. I’m sure I can do it. Could I do it for you?

Last words today? Sing your private tune in your head. Raise your head and look the world in the eye. Don’t swagger but respect yourself. You have so much to offer - believe me. With my love, Dad

4/2/2005

s’wonderful

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:32 pm

Warm! Bright! Country shirt and cords too, too heavy for trip to Village and around about this morning. Chinos and polo shirt - yeah!! I suffer badly from ’sad’ (no, NOT tears, the syndrome thing) and today is WONDERFUL!!!! Yes, well, calm down at the back there, Dad, you have a readership that used to respect you. YEAH!! Oh well.

The Village is super. Tesco bought up a ‘neighbourhood store’ in the High Street (that’s for peasants, it’s actually called The Broadway. Please note Cap Ltrs when ritin in) and created Tesco Metro - next to dowdy, tatty, awful Somerfields. Bingo - Somerfields closed for a month and have complete re-vamp. Smart. New paint. New graphics. - Pause - same staff, same grotty produce but higher prices. We notice stuff like that on the High Street (that’s for peasants - oh forget it). A laugh a minute because Lidl suddenly closed for the same month because their roof was falling off. TWO Supermarkets within 5 mins of each other shut for the same month. Tesco also has two within 5 minutes and must be larfing its head off.

But I went hither and yon including the library and the sweetie shop and everyone was so nice.

Then we went to the mega-hobby shop and bought much stuff for the mini-gardens, and moved on to a proper Garden Centre staffed by knowledgeable people who are very nice. Bought stuff and returned home sated and with nice things to plant out. Days don’t get much better than this.

Returned to view e mail and suffered the usual bunch of obscene rubbish and one chancer telling me he was my bank and please eneter everything in the site below!! Since I NEVER respond to any of this absolute tosh why is my address still out there? And where is the pervert out there who does this stuff? I would like to have a serious debate with him and try to help him with his problem. But he lacks self-esteem and won’t answer this reasonable request. And, no, this is not a gender-biased comment - none of the women I ever met in my entire life had such a pin-head brain that they would bother doing this stuff on a computer in the attic by the light of a flickering hurricane lamp.

I NEVER AGAIN want to read about a Jackrabbit vibrator (What is a ‘Jackrabbit’?) I’ve seen rabbits at it and they vibrated pefectly well on their own. Is the League Against Cruel Sports banning the observation of happy rabbits in the field and proposing we give them auto-pseudo-glee-devices instead? Double weird. And if not rabbits who wants vibro-on-a-stick? Play Wagner and cuddle the speakers. At least you get an intellectual benefit. Then there’s ‘Pharmacy’ (I go to Boots in the Village. Would you trust a pervert in cyber-space for the right aftershave?) and ‘Enhancement’. That’s a REAL puzzle. I looked in my dictionary and ‘to enhance’ means ‘to intensify or increase in value, quality etc.’ Since no-one’s ever complained about the quality of me or my efforts and considered it cheap at the price they paid to buy me dinner why should I need ‘enhancement’? The cyber-world is a real puzzle to me.

Well, herself has her hairdresser coming shortly and I have new library books so I’ll give up for a while.

Todays thought? Life without music is life in a desert. Ignore the poseurs (how can anything ‘atonal’ be music?) play what pleases you and smile - or cry - as you listen. Music can indeed move the soul. May the sun shine on you. Dad.

4/1/2005

Nag, nag, nag

Filed under: — Dad @ 3:33 pm

‘Do another blog’ came the cry. Alright, already! Sun shining, music playing, Friday again. Must get to the library tomorrow ‘cause I’m out of readable stuff. That’s a joke given that there’s something like 1,000 books in here that I’ve collected for various reasons. But most are for dipping into for research, not reading from cover to cover.

Talking of books, are you fed up with Amazon? I started buying from them from the US then switched when they opened up here. I buy offbeat CD’s and non-fiction books for my professional use - not fiction or ‘top 10′ stuff. Well they used to be jolly good and I got delivery pretty smartish. For the past 2 years or more they’ve been HOPELESS. Things take weeks, or they wind up saying they can’t do it at all. On 2nd. Feb. I ordered 3 books urgently needed for a project. 3 wks. dly. Then a mail saying ‘another 2 weeks’. Then I checked on the web and dly. was due this week. Today - more mail. It’ll be another 6 weeks!!!! That’s about 3 1/2 months for standard works. Anybody any good ideas how to buy books when I need them over the web and NOT by going to town to a bookshop?

Anyway thanks to Sarah for Pay Pal, e-bay and dollar cheques. Yup, ta, we have a PP a/c but this lady couldn’t handle that!

Next a thought for Julianna - thanks for such a lovely comment. Made my week. So keep on keeping on, goddit?

I’ve been submerged this week by e mail traffic about a research project I’m working on. If this is what happens before I start what will it be like later on? I dunno.

It’s no good, I’m just not a gardener. I like projects - with a beginning, a middle and an end. Then move on. Day-in-day-out keep doing it is not my thing. It took me years to find that out - I wish someone had told me when I was about 15. My life would have been very different.

Have you been watching Masterchef (BBC2, 6.30)? It’s been quite interesting and I can’t figure out which of the last 3 will win tonight (It’s the last night). They’re 3 very different people with different characters and skill-sets. I’m actually very fond of cooking but can’t do it here. There’s an extractor fan over the stove in a casing that sticks out and if I lean forward to look in a pan or whatever the edge of this fitting smacks me across my forehead. So I gave up. Sad, really. If you like food (I do, I do) you ought to cook it. It’s just too much trouble and too expensive to wreck the kitchen.

Can beer get stale? I stopped drinking beer ages ago but I found a bottle of Kronenberg whilst looking for something else and it has a ‘best by’ date on it. Feb. 2001. Opened it, smelt it, tasted it. Looked OK tasted OK. So I drank it. What now? I’ll let you know so that you can feel secure drinking ancient ale.

Things have changed since I was at Uni. (early 1950’s). For a start my College (St.Catharine’s Camb. a.k.a. Cats) has women undergrads. Weird. There was enough trouble when we had to cycle out to Girton or Newnham (New Hall was a brand new Women’s College with only a few people there and NO MALE VISITORS) or they came to us. You probably can’t sleep now for shuffling steps on the stairs and softly banging doors. And bedheads. Anyway today I got the Lent Term Alumni’s Mag. and at the back it has a long list of College Merchandise for sale, almost all of which didn’t exist when I was up. Casting an idle eye down it I came to ‘Ladies Garter in College Colours £4.25′ Crumbs, we could have done with a few of those way back then. But when is it sartorially correct for College Ladies to wear the thing? Or two of them? I’ve only ever seen (in photo’s of course) women wearing one garter. Tell me, was your other stocking supposed to fall into careless wrinkles as it sagged earthwards? The things I’ve never worried about before. And who’s going to see it? (I know, I know - don’t bother) The whole point of College ’stuff’ is to let the admiring on-looker place you instantly (or not if you walk down Broadstone Village High Street on a Saturday wearing a polo shirt with College Crest). So the Mag. raises more questions than it answers. Should I write in?

You’d think, given the age of Cats, that the’d have got the College Colours sorted about 200 years ago. I went there about 5 years ago and popped into the (same old) shop to buy some more College shirts and talk to the dear old codgers in there who claim to remember me when I visit. ‘Tell me’ they said ‘What are Cats colours?’ Thinks. ‘You’ve been selling this stuff for years, surely you know by now?’ ‘Go on’ they said ‘What do you think?’ ‘Maroon and pink, of course’. ‘Well one of the undergrads has been researching the College history and he claims it’s maroon and white. The College doesn’t know so we have to stock two different scarves now’. True. Honest. God knows what the colours are today - perhaps I should buy another scarf and find out?

Things you may not know about Cats. It was founded in 1473 and it’s the only College where the back of it faces the main road. Because the old road was the other side at one time and Cats faced Queens which is on the opposite side. Visit Queens - it’s beautiful. Anyway, King Henry VIth came along and started building Kings College in 1441. So a while after Cats was built (things took longer in those days - although Planning Permission seems pretty bogged down under Prescott) the road had to be moved, of course, so ‘new’ Trumpington Street was built - running past the back of Cats which to this day remains open to view - the only College like it.

You’ve heard of Hobson’e choice? Meaning you’ve no choice - you get what you’re given. Well Hobson was a chap who hired out horses and his stables were next to Cats. Fancy that.

I guess that’s enough of a blog for now. Did you know that current International Paper Sizes (ISO standard)come in A, B and C formats which all work to the same formula but related sizes? So A4 paper fits into a C4 envelope which, in turn, fits into a B4 envelope. (Don’t ask). Except for the Japanese International Standard which uses a different formula so their A sizes are the same but the B sizes are different. ISO B4 is 250 x 353 mm. but JB4 is 257 x 364 mm. (REALLY don’t ask). How do I know? I used to own a printing busines and a graphics studio. But I’m much better now.

Last thought? What did you learn today? A day without enquiry is a day lost to life. Have a good one - Dad.

3/29/2005

A quiet day today

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:17 pm

It’s cold, it’s wet and herself is working full days this week so it’s a long, lonely day. Chet Atkins playing - I need his skills to cheer me.

Well I hope you all had a good Easter and no disasters. We achieved about 75% of what we hoped to do which is good, really.

V. nice e mail this morning from another Therapy colleague saying good things about me. Aah! An unexpected praise does one the world of good. There’s not enough ‘well done’ or ‘thanks’ flying about these days. Once upon a time holding a door open won a smile and a ‘thanks’. Seems to be a lost art - or perhaps a not found one? Oiling the wheels of life with small pleasantries helps so much - and is a two-way street. So why is it so many people are just plain rude? Being rude to others doesn’t help one to feel good about oneself so it’s a self-defeating strategy. Perhaps people watch too much soccer? Now there’s something that should be banned because of the damage it causes to our environment. Read that either way - ban watching it or playing it, I don’t care.

Had to laugh this morning. Most of the teeny-tiny gardens made by herself are sold to the USA. A cheque arrived in the post this morning - saying, in writing, ‘Eight dollars and fifty cents’. Saying in figures ‘$850.00′. That apart, $8.50 is about £4.50 at the current ex. rate. The lowest charge I can find for cashing the cheque in the UK is £6.50. So that would put us up the spout for two quid. International Trade isn’t all it’s cracked up to be!!

I’m still struggling to make sense of the ‘Workforce Development Strategy 2003 - 2006′ about which I’m supposed to be preparing a cogent report and recommendations for action leading to the subsequent ’submission’. I bet good old Stalin used to have stuff like this written in turgid Russian prose for his 5 year mega-plans, none of which ever worked. I don’t ‘do’ turgid so I’m having trouble debasing my use of English to the necessary standard. There’s more than one interpretation of ‘illiterate’.

Meanwhile, sweet Julianna, I’m still thinking. Seems to me you’re taking much too long a view and the burden is too great to carry. There’s two days you shouldn’t worry about. Yesterday is over and you can’t re-run it. So for whatever errors and omissions you may imagine you made, say sorry if it helps the offended person, pick yourself up and press on. No point in beating yourself up over them ‘cause it does no good and harms only yourself. For those golden moments that went right, hold the memory. Like smelling the flowers afresh when you come back into a room, such memories bring a smile. Tomorrow hasn’t happened yet. Prepare for it by all means but don’t fear it. You have no idea how it will really play itself out. Life is going to deal its hand of cards to you and all you can do is give it your best shot. If you can honestly say that’s what you did - then there’s nothing more you could have done. Oh, and life ISN’T fair. Life doesn’t understand the concept. So all we can do is play today’s cards the best way we can for oursleves and those whose lives we impact upon. And whilst ‘branches and leaves’ have a special meaning, many others will retain memories of you and remember you with fondness. If you leave behind actions and perhaps objects laced with the essence of your spirit, you will live on. If it’s meant, it’ll happen. If not, you gave it the best shot you could so it’s plan B.

That won’t solve all the problem but it may just alleviate your distress a little, from time to time. Print it out, keep it and look at it when you’re miserable. And Dad’s thinking of you - so have a cyber-cuddle!

That’s about it for now, folks. So for this week don’t let the bastards grind you down! Cheers from Dad.

3/26/2005

And a Happy Easter to you!

Filed under: — Dad @ 6:52 pm

Lovely day here but herself has opened up a production line to make mini garden goodies for current sale and for stock for a major Craft Fair coming up soon. Presently varnishing 15 bird tables which will have tiny birds (clay, baked in oven) and bird seed when done. The place is a wreck!

V. kind invite from son to spend time on boat on Thames. Too tied up here with manufacturing so will have to go later on. That’ll be nice. Also have forthcoming treat of flight in a Tiger Moth (OK kiddies, that’s a small biplane originally produced in the 1920’s). I learned to fly in one in the early 1950’s and can’t wait to have a go. But it needs to be warmer - it has open cockpits. Gosh, we were rugged in those days! This was a b’day present from herself and a v. good one too.

Kind e mail from Therapist chum asking me to read / consider / comment on a Case Study he’s written. Need to have my head on straight for that so I’ll do it tomorrow.

Apart from all that it’s peace and quiet down here. We NEVER go out at Bank Holidays because the place heaves with people so it’s no fun. Afterwards we can have Dorset back to ourselves and enjoy it in peace.

Julianna’s on my mind thinking over her recent comment about ‘branches and leaves’. Hang in there, J, whilst I ponder awhile.

So that’s about it for now. Whatever significance Easter may have for you, it’s a good time for a break. Give your time to others but take some time for yourself. Life rackets along and we get so caught up with the ‘now’ that we lose the real meaning of ‘what for’. Clear the mental clutter and focus on just a few objectives you can achieve in the next few months. Looking back later and ticking them off as ‘done it’ will give you a great boost. With my best wishes to you all. Dad

3/23/2005

Pause for thought

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:34 am

Wonderful sunny, warm day today. Been to the village in my shirtsleeves and enjoyed sundry chatter with human-style shopkeepers / bankers / w.h.y. It really is a VERY civilised village with social realtionships so much better than the ‘orrid hard-nosed world out there. We’re very lucky indeed to live here. Playing Scottish Folk Music (The Corries) today. In a mood for that.

Well, now, a public debate about Dads and death. Yes, indeed, henry boxed my ears and as he says that doesn’t happen often. But one should not meet death thinking ‘If only - -’. So the first thing is to figure out what you want to do and get it done.

I miss my Dad. He was at Gallipoli in the Royal Army Medical Corps, was wounded and sent to Cairo to hospital. Then he moved to the R.A Vet. Corps. He loved animals as do I. Then he went out to West Africa. Then he married Mum. I never thought about him dying and so I was too busy with my own life to ask him about his. And lost him. Don’t lose the history of your Dad or Mum. I regret it every day.

It’s Easter. Go out there, breathe the air, think about how good this year will be for you and yours - and resolve to make it happen. With my love, Dad.

3/22/2005

Comment on some comments

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:03 pm

Whilst Lordh and I do not agree on everything - after all the dear chap is entitled to be wrongheaded from time to time - he has a discerning eye for the Emperor’s New Clothes. We were discussing guns (about which he is wrong) and people (about whom he has a point). As you all know I’m an avowed egalitarian. BUT my experience of life is that some people are stinkers whilst others are not. Nature or nurture? That old bone has been gnawed to bits. ‘Eliminating the need for people to want to use guns irresponsibly’ is a basic premise for Lordh. I have been a gun user and a person who trained people in the proper use of guns. So let’s think about the circumstances.

Anti-social behaviour, of which gun use forms just one part, is NOT caused by poverty, poor parenting, inadequate state aid or whatever. It is not caused by the existence of guns either. It stems from inadequacy in the mind of the individual. ‘A gun’ is as meaningful as ‘a shoelace’. People make their own choice to ‘live a decent life’ to use Lordh’s term, and that choice has nothing whatsoever to do with poverty or the need for state intervention.

I agree that someone like the current murderers should not be sent to jail for 35 years. They should be put to death. Until the threat of retribution from the peaceful majority is sufficiently severe, unpleasant people will make life a misery for others and take innocent life without a qualm with a gun, a brick or a knife. They do not deserve to live.

Tell me, if it is socially OK to murder an unborn child (a.k.a. abortion) why is it not also OK to terminate the life of somone who murdered an innocent without consideration for the life that was brutally and unthinkingly stolen. The innocent unborn baby never did this. We are responsible for oursleves and not everyone disadvantaged by poverty or poor parenting goes around murdering people - or beating up 80 / 90 year old women.

Hard to come up with a positive thought after that. But please sleep well. I’ve been troubled by bad dreams recently which leave me emotionally a’twitch. I wish you better. Dad

Crumbs, what a day!

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:32 pm

Raining hard yesterday and overnight and some rain today. A funny kind of night with a nightmare for me and the thought that today will be quiet. Back to playing Brass Band music in the hope of getting my brain sorted out.

Variousjobs on today - website for Herself; more training for the lot I’m working with; answering wickedly complex question from nephew at Cambridge; sorting out what I thought would be minor money issues. Easy-peasy on the internet. Or not after 7 phone calls to help-lines ‘press button b and listen to our choice of music. Your call is important to us.’ Were it important I’d be talking to a person not pushing bxxxxy buttons.

Well back to selfishness as a break. Thanks for much feedback. Thanks Lordh for confirming idea of France / sun / food / wine / more wine / try to remember how to ask for wine / lie down quietly and try to drink wine VERY CAREFULLY. Thanks to Aoj. I’ll do that. I’ll re-visit childhood places for which I have much affection. Nice idea about me amd Mrs.Dad. I learned to ride a horse in Hertfordshire and spent a wonderful two years exercising polo ponies in Richmond Park. My much missed and much beloved Dad was in the Royal Army Veterinary Corps. He loved animals and rode horses like a dream. I learned much from him and have loved / cared for animals ever since. Yes, I’ll climb back up there and jog gently. Tried windsurfing - and there’s too much of it here in Poole. Pass on that. For rafting read boating. Mrs. Dad thinks I should buy another boat (NOT a plastic bling-bling job) and get happy. You hit a few nails on the head, there.

But, oh Sarah, I confess to a lack of knowledge. Forgive me (weeps on to hem of Sarah’s garment - whatever). Please advise source of ‘fav. things experiment’ that I may sup from that fount of knowledge. Urp! Sorry! Oops - found it on Ask Jeeves and it’s the great Simon. But I’m stupid so I couldn’t find out what I was supposed to do.

That was the good stuff. Hmm. Much as I regret having to say this Lordh is totally, completely, absolutely wrong with knobs on. No gun ever killed anyone. People kill people. Learning to shoot well and practising that skill is sublime. But that deep pleasure has been ripped from me by idiots. I can’t ever forgive that. I was a bxxxxy good shot and competed at Bisley. Trying to hit the (small) dot in the middle of a target on the 1,000 yards range was a real thrill. 1 mile is 1,760 yards so that target is over half a mile away. My best time I got 8 out of 10 in the bull and the other 2 in the inner. I’ll never forget that. Come on, blairite dickheads, show me a comparable skill. You can’t. Apparently it’s OK to swear at soccer players (who know no better) and drink lager stright from the bottle but not to hone a skill requiring considerable co-ordination of eye, mind and muscle. Think Prescot. Think gross idiot. And he deprives me of the chance to exercise my skills?

Our ‘world’ has gone arse up (that’s a management term). The cheats, thieves, thugs who smash old people about, stupid morons who despoil our environment by both their presence and their stupid actions are dung. We need more police, more power, more people saying - ‘Enough. Stop sxxxxxxg on my life’. Personally, if I were the Ch. Constable in Nottingham I’d go around giving the knot-heads more guns and access to ammunition on a 24/7 basis and just let them killl each other. Then the rest of us might have a decent fear-free life.

I don’t like the world in which I’m forced to live by blowhard idiots. Why can’t I have MY world and be left alone by them? What gives them the right to spoil my life?

A closing thought from a frustrated Dad. So long as you hold on to just one principle of decency the bxxxxxxs haven’t won. So don’t let them. Keep decency alive in your own mind where it can’t be debauched. Hey, don’t mind me - have a good one and prepare to have a privately super Easter. Dad.

3/21/2005

A good day, really

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:27 pm

Back from training people in telemarketing and directors in selling more stuff. Whew. Playing Country & Westwern again. Otherwise weather mild and no-one annoying me (much) at present.

Easter looms. Where does the time go? Does it mean I’m not doing enough with the time left to me? That’s a troubling thought. Tell me, what should I be sure to get done before I’m not up to it any more? Give me some ideas. Nothing silly like ‘climb Everest’ - just some sane ideas such as go back and spend a week in the (small) town in France you most enjoyed. Or whatever. Answers, please.

There should be a ‘Lunatic of the Week’ Award (probably ‘of the Day’ given the number of idiots there are out there). The boss (doesn’t deserve a big b because he is one) of Kent Police is ripping blue flashing lights off police cars and silencing sirens. He is also restricting them to following the Highway Code and abiding by the posted speed limits. What’s he on? Who’s lining his pockets? (assuming he has the limited intelligence to find them). He’s lost several pieces of the plot - were he even aware that there should be a plot. His Force is supposed to douse the baddies. But the baddies, by definition, ignore the rules. So they ride off into the moonlight with a binfull of swag whilst Kent’s finest go, ’scuse me, errm, pardon, in pursuit. Apparently occasionally in Britain a Police Car bumps into something whilst trying to do what they’re supposed to be doing as in catching the baddies. This is surreal!

Just becuse a lunatic killed people with a gun, honest, decent and law abiding people like me were deprived of the right to own a gun that fires bullets. Predictably the baddies (see the Ch. Constable of Nottingham’s comments about gun crime gone mad) have all the guns and us, the goodies, can’t use them to bang holes in paper targets. Or defend ourselves against the baddies. Lunacy, total lunacy.

Incidentally pistol shooting is an Olympic Sport which we’ve banned - yet some pilloch is seeking the responsibility of hosting the Games here. Idiot!! Doesn’t he understand that running, jumping, throwing objects and sundry other activiities can kill or injure people? Clearly our govt. idiots are against EVERY SPORT included in the Olympics. So is our Proposal that 1 million people should sit in carefully air conditioned and assistant controlled cinemas and watch films of past Olympics since the sports are too dangerous to be done??????

Did I say no-one was annoying me? WHY are idiots allowed by us sentient masses allowed to get away with this perverted stuff?

Calm, Dad. Breathe slowly. I am SICK of pillochs destroying my country and my life. But a thought for you. Never give up. Follow your dream wherever it leads and my love to you. Dad

3/20/2005

Just a word

Filed under: — Dad @ 4:08 pm

Gorgeous sunshine here. Playing Country Music whilst head down over computer. Answering serious questions for nephew at my old college in Cambridge to help his work. Phew! Flakes of rust falling off brain.

Herself creating more gardens to keep up with ‘awesome’ label from America.

Up betimes this morning to watch F1 in Malaysia. It’s getting better.

Do you read Keating’s books about Inspector Ghote in Bombay? I’ve been to India a few times and even led a couple of British Trade Missions there. All BIG cars with flags on. Those books make me want to retire to India. I think it deserves me.

Short story: Coming to the end of one Mission we were in a convoy of cars heading for the airport. At the time there was a strike of Commercial Drivers many of whom are Sikhs. Super people. So along the road we arrive at a road block. Large trucks parked across the road at a place in the country where there were pillars each side of the road as religious symbols. So one can’t pass. Hmm. Convoy stops because VERY LARGE Sikhs are standing in front of trucks and throwing quite big rocks at people who approach. Hmm. Ask Indian Gov’t chap what to do since we need to catch plane. ‘Nuffink’. Hmm. Sikhs wear distinctive turbans, have beards, wear metal bracelet, carry swords, don’t drink alcohol which is why many work as drivers. Hmm. Walk s-l-o-w-l-y up road towards road block. Wearing slacks / shirt - no jacket - nothing in hands. Silence. No rocks. Stop and ask ‘Who speaks English?’ ‘Yes’ Start walking again. Sikh drivers carry their swords in cab and they waved them about. Kept walking. Explained English not Indian; love Sikhs; grateful not killed stone dead which I thought was reasonable; can we go to airport? They moved truck, let us pass and people asked ‘What did you say?’ Not much.

That’s going to be it for today so what does Dad think? Hey, inside every threatening image is a window of opportunity. Give it a try. If you fail - well the end result will be no different from what it was going to be anyway. But quite often you’ll turn aside anger and distress. Just don’t try to lecture people, OK? They might be nicer than you fear. Be happy - Dad.

3/18/2005

In the soup!

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:01 pm

How can it be gone 6 o’clock already? Well the weather here in deepest Dorset has been sunny and warm. Ideal for venturing out into the garden if this keeps up over the weekend. Ever increasing dollops of frogspawn in the pond so zillions of tadpoles to come. The fish spring into new season’s life with such a rich diet but enough escape to fil the garden with teeny-tiny froglets during the Summer. They’re so sweet. Playing more Chet Atkins today to calm a frantic soul.

Well, I had a yearning for tomato soup yesterday and we’ve got a nice Med. Tom. soup wif bacon and beans type in a tin. Opened. Microwaved. Eaten. Enjoyed. So how did part of the kitchen acquire a splatter of fine tom. soup droplets? On the kettle; on the day’s post (always laid out on the worktop); on the mugs hanging on pegs - a flat spray about 12ins. above the worktop. Herself fell about laughing trying to figure out how I did it. I hid behind something. But the soup was nice. Went for hearty German potato & leek & chicken today. No splashes but 2 bowls full. ‘urp.

Suffering from techno probs. currently. I can e mail a page with pics of Herself’s mini gardens to America but not 1 mile down the road. ‘Returned mail’ it says. Will deliver it by hand tomorrow. The joke is that I’m desperately trying to find someone to create a web site for Herself so you’d think their technology would be up for it. I dunnno. And the price!!! Fone people and say ‘web site’ and they come all over funny with lots of 00’s at the end but can never tell you how they thought up that price in the first place. Well there’s not that much money in it so we can’t pay imaginary sums of dosh. The super news is that having become a member of the American association of dolls house mfrs. she has had an e mail saying she is the ‘featured member of the month’ because her work is ‘awesome’. Well I thought so but it’s nice that the Yanks think so too.

Why is it that so many people don’t want to do the best job they can, they just want to do as little as possible and bunk off? Had a long debate with Herself about this (she started it) and we have no idea why. Surely it’s not at all satisfying to do something and think ‘that’s cxxp and I did it’? It blew Herself away to be told her work was ‘awesome’. So, OK, maybe that’s over the top but ‘awesome’ beats the Hell out of ‘cxxp’ any day. How can people live with themselves? Something has been going badly wrong for a long time for things to be as bad as this. BUT what a bright light in a dreary landscape when someone does a proper job - like the two University Secretaries I spoke to today. One at Cambridge and the other the local Bournemouth. They were SO nice and so helpful and we ended laughing together and wishing each other well. Now that’s how life ought to be.

So not a bad day, really. Lots of work done and lots to think about. You know about the ‘3 in the morning blues’? When things are bad, we all wake at 3 am which is when we are at our lowest ebb and we can’t find anything good to think about. So consciously be nice, kind and friendly to a few people each day, remember their faces, and if you have the 3 am blues recall their faces to mind. You have no idea what problems they have in their lives but you gave them a special gift of human kindness. It meant a lot to them. So however bad a time you’re having, you found the strength to give kindness to others. Remember how they smiled at you and drift back to gentle sleep. You have a real value in this world. Take care all - Dad.

And the answer is -

Filed under: — Dad @ 9:10 am

Thanks to Lordh for comment. Well, we agree about voice-mail at any rate! Quite agree about the development of the ‘proper’ English version of the bible and how the use of language is affected so the original meaning can become distorted. That said, why this destructive urge to re-write something beautiful in language which neither reflects the past nor is at all beautiful? A bit like spraying graffitti on any painting created before 1940. Sheer vandalism.

As to assertiveness - yup, I’m up for that. Mail me on windsor@power-base.co.uk and we’ll have a go. That’s open to anyone who reads this.

Just a quick answer. More later when I’ve got some work done. Cheers - Dad

3/17/2005

I’ve been failing you

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:57 pm

I’m sorry. (Cringes, bows head etc etc). I do stuff for only half the day then take serious pills and go sleep. So when I run out of steam what ain’t done ain’t done. (Grovel an’ dat) Today is windy but mild. I’m similar. Listeningto Bob Newhart’s caustic wit. What fun he’d have had with Billy-Bolly-B-blair and causing-serious harm-to-us-all brown. I STILL haven’t met anyone who voted for this socialist-reconstructuralist-b-all-of-us govt. If they get in again we, and our once useful Nation, will be sxxxxxd. Answers on a postcard.

Why so busy? Running Assertiveness programme for people who either shrink behind chair or thump you. Funny thing, life. Drafting propsal for major research project. Hmm. Be good if they agree. Wait for phone backs from people whose phones have ‘message’ function. Why do they never listen to the message? What’s the point? If they aren’t going to call you back why not say so?

On the other hand have had nice chat with person at my Cambs. College. That’s good.

Looking at the human condition the ‘new’ version of the bible makes me miserable. There was nothing wrong with the original version.

Have just received e mail from person who annoys the Hell out of me but must resist temptation to explain that to him. Dad’s having a b-a-d day.

Draw breath. Engage brain. For all of us, we have the strength to beat the idiots who annoy us. When annoyed, draw a deep breath. Breathe out through mouth.
Answer calmly. Well, if I can make myself do it - so can you. Remember, I’m here for you and I need you to know that. Dad

3/14/2005

Now come on!

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:22 pm

Partly sunny, not too raw, but the day is topsy-turvey. Deep sleep but troublesome dream. Up at 06.00 to read paper kindly brought by herself. Preparing for delivery of Important Training Session. Have last minute thought but computer playing up. Figure out a fix. Twitch. Herself off to terrify Solicitors. Keep reading paper. 08.00 phone rings. Because of person with shingles today is cancelled possibly next Monday. Yup. And tomorrow’s session is moved to Wednesday. Yup. Put head under wing, throw on country shirt and corduroys, go out and loom around PC World. Ask simple questions knowledgeable people can’t answer. Hmm. Buy small stuff, consider buying bigger stuff. Have nice chat with Security Guard because I’m afraid he will be bored out of his gourd. Come home.

Through door, silence Alarm system, take off coat. Ring ring go de fone. Rush. Pick up. ‘WINDSOR’ like what I always say. ‘Is that I.T.?’ ‘Nope’. ‘It MUST be I.T. ‘cause I have a BIG problem here’. ‘Nope’. ‘The fingle-feffer won’t meet with the mental-mixer and so the sun don’t shine. WHAT SHOULD I DO?’ (This is for real) [Imagine s-m-o-o-t-h voice like syrup of figs] ‘My son you’ve called the right number. As a Solution Focussed Brief Therapist I am here to help anyone in distress of mind. Before we move forward to the analysis phase, may I have your preferred credit card number?’ For some unexplained reason the person put the phone down. Where did I go wrong?

Old friend fones seeking advice to complete complex Gov’t form. That was fun. Computer really giving me a bad time. Refuses to play music necessary to on-going sanity. Re-think PC World proposition. I can overcome PC problem - all it costs is mucho money. Why has no-one murdered B.Gates yet?

I hope you’re having a better day. I’m going to eat yummy mini-pasties, drink a little wine, read book and go to sleep. When you look back at it, it’s all rubbish, really.

Dad’s thought today? Learn at least one new thing. Otherwise you are fenced in by your past - and we wouldn’t want that, would we? Stay true to yourself. Everyone’s Dad

3/13/2005

A special message

Filed under: — Dad @ 8:36 pm

Hey there - beep - beep - beep an’ de flashin’ lites -

Carol, thanks for your thoughts. Monday will be SUPER because Dad’s there for you. Dad’s with you. If someone tries to make you sad just say what Dad would say - failing that, ‘Not today, sunshine, I have to be happy for Dad’.

Dad might be a VERY BIG BAD PERSON - they don’t know. But Dad’s in your mind for you. So damn them all, Carol. And have a good one.

When Monday evening comes, sit back, drink tea / plonk / whatever, draw a deep breath and think ‘Yeah, it was a better day than I thought’.

Oh and tell me it worked for you. Sleep well, treasure. Dad

Lifts my heart

Filed under: — Dad @ 7:17 pm

More thanks to others - this time Lordh. Thanks for your various comments esp. today. Loved the fire and etc. No fire here today but I almost feel as if I’m there with you and yours. So we don’t tangle over the NHS I’ve also had great service but that’s despite what this stupid govt. has done not because of it. The decent people working in the NHS and busting a gasket deserve a b sight better.

As an [old] newcomer to the blog world I’m daily warmed by what I read of others and the comments sent to me. My technological mess-up at present is that other people seem to have their blogs on funny places and I can’t leave a comment there. I have to ‘register’ (whatever that means) and before I get to the the end I’m asked a question I neither understand nor can answer. So if you think I’m a miserable old bxxxxr for posting no comment - I tried, honest, I tried.

I’ve been thinking with much affection about the open honest warmth of the people who respond to me and feel very moved. So different from day to day life. BUT it reminds me of another surprise I had.

I started driving trucks around my Dad’s factory when I was about 14 and the story of how I got my licence is a laugh in itself. Another day. But I HATED motorcycles. Anyone could tell that if they stopped you fell over which was not a life prolonging thing. If you hit anything, you lost. So that was that - until I was 65 and looking for a challenge. ‘I know’ said I brightly ‘I’ll learn to ride a motorbike’. My dear wife fluently expressed her opinion about age / stupidity / take out more life insurance first.

So I went down to a training place to enquire. ‘I don’t want to be mixed up with a bunch of acned 17 year olds’. ‘You won’t be. You’ll be surprised’. I was. On my course was 40+ yr old Nicky as in Pete’s wife (both now sterling friends) and sundry other rational people. Oh, and a 17 yr old who seemed to have trouble understanding principles like roads / other traffic / not hitting stuff. Anyway, we were a cosy bunch and the instructors were surprisingly nice, including the boss with the pigtail and the one who wore shades in November and said ‘Yeah’ a lot whilst holding fag in corner of mouth. Why not? Took and passed test on Christmas Eve. Another story but I did something that cracked up the Test person and he was still laughing when we got back to the Test Centre.

So, ‘What are you going to buy?’ quoth the pigtailed person. (Note: Became great mate and is a super person) ‘Oh, ah, well, just getting the licence was the challenge’ Cringe, ‘umble, wring hands, bow head. ‘Yew WOT!!!’ Shades of Drill Instructor when I was in the Services who did indeed call me ‘Yew ‘orrible little man’ Stories like that are not invented. ‘Oh, well, p’raps something small’. Cost of small mo’bike worth it to avoid look of derision. ‘Heh, heh, have you ever thought of a Harley?’ ‘Aargh. Oops. Sorry’. There are no small Harleys. They are BIG. They have twin cylinder engines. They do not go ‘putter putter’ they go ‘THROB / pause / THROB and the mere sound frightens the Hell out of people and makes their sandwiches wobble. ‘Heh, heh, I’ll take you out on one’. ‘Yes Gov.’ Thinks - file kind thought under self-destruct this file later.

So it’s February. He phones. ‘Come to Southampton Harley Dealer I’ve got a treat for you’. ‘Ah, um, which day ‘cause I might be busy’. ‘Pick one’ Give in. Dress with care, wear m/c boots, take helmet, drive to S’ton saying ‘Goodbye world / family / life’. Park. Get out VERY SLOWLY.

Short version - warmly greeted, told story of fool who crashed bike getting out of parking space (very reassuring), ride HUGE Harley around New Forest in mild rain. Only skid twice. Buy one.

BUT all these blokes with tattoos, shaven heads with bandannas on, leather waistcoats - w.h.y. - were and have been so NICE. More stories about that but all the Harley Bikers I’ve met have been the pick of the crop as far as people are concerned. And it seems that bloggers are the same. Gosh, folks, I feel so grateful to be accepted by you. Thanks to you all.

Tonight’s thought? It’s Monday tomorrow. Monday is a bitch of a day. When I talk to strangers in shops or on the phone I say - ‘Have a peaceful day’. They’re always surprised, most laugh a little and they all say ‘Thanks’. Try it tomorrow. You could lift someone’s pain for a little while. And you’ll feel good yourself. BUT you have to mean it. Good night, all - Dad

Lost the plot

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:52 pm

Wrote a lot of blog and then lost it when I looked for something I wanted to know. I guess it’s a learning experience.

Sunday. Sunshine. Papers. Enjoyed cooked breakfast with proper black pudding. Sulked and wrote stuff for training sessions next week. Then changed into proper clothes and shaved. Listening to Kenny Rogers to save my sanity. Herself planting garden, making mini-gardens, humming happy songs.

Thanks for comments especially Sarah and Julianna. I’ll have a good day for you. Hey, I’m Dad for anyone who needs one. Including you.

Thinks: I don’t know from nothing about the etiquette of blogging stuff. Perhaps I’m not supposed to mention [names] and say thanks in case I offend others which I would not wish to do? Twists hanky. Oh well, that’s how Dad is.

I bought a small box of sweets yesterday. Wrigleys Extra Mints, Spearmint flavoured. 44pence. I haven’t counted how many of these teeny-tiny bits are there - say 30? Well now, that equates to 8/- (8 shillings in good money) the pack. When a decent loaf of bread cost at worst 1/-. That’s stupid. So why are we all stupid about money?

Our present unfortunate, misguided and totally stupid government (with a small g) elected by unfortunate, misguided and totally stupid people does so many stupid things. The NHS is super. No. The people try hard but are stuffed by the gov. Policing is fine. No. The people try hard but are stuffed by the gov. And so on. As a Nation we are being trashed on a daily basis but no-one seems to care. Well, I’ll be dead shortly but I truly don’t want to look back as my eyes close and think my Nation has been ’stuffed’ by idiots voted for by idiots. Please, folks - which includes those from overseas - stop this happening or I’m going to die feeling so v. miserable.

Moving right along - each of us has a someone / something for whom we care. A close adult? A child? An adored animal/ bird / w.h.y.? A loved place? Please think kindly of them today and offer a small gift of your time, your care, whatever. Why not. Dad xx

3/12/2005

Oh, Hell

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:22 pm

Saturday today so went to the village, bought stuff, went to library. Lots of nice people there. Had some nice friendly chats. It’s a really good place. So why do weird young perverts come out from their dank, dripping, foul holes and amuse themselves by smashing stuff in the late evenings? WHY are they so sick? How small a mind does one need to rip up flowers planted to make things nice for us all? I don’t go out at night but I’d love to have a chat with these absolute idiots. Except that they probably can’t speak English so can’t chat. Oh, and where are the Police? Don’t ask.

Herself is blown away by selling a small dolls house garden piece to the USA on e-bay in 20 minutes. Whew. I wish you could see what she makes.

Playing Kenny Rogers to sooth me and trying to finish some work I have to get right by Monday. I’m not much fun today - sorry.

My love and care to you all. Never give up hope - if we do, the stupid bastards have won, and we can’t have that. Go on, cheer me up. Glum Dad.

3/10/2005

Social engineering part 2

Filed under: — Dad @ 8:06 pm

Sorry to break off this morning - but there’s more to debate. And thanks to PaulV for further insight. To kick off with, PaulV suggests that a working definition of ‘prejudice’ is ‘an unfounded belief’. I can’t go along with that. Much prejudice is based on a limited experience of something - belief founded on practical experience or stemming from the views of others. So whilst my view may not be true of the whole ‘group’ included in my prejudice, there is a genuine basis for my opinion. Personally I can’t get my head around vegetarians or the more extreme vegans. But I would never agree that they should be forced to eat meat because they should not be permitted to have a prejudice. Using a comment on my previous post ‘Reachin’ out’ there was, indeed, a time when one might see a sign outside a B & B or room to rent stating ‘No blacks or Irish’. But suppose I owned the property and had bad experience with such people in the past? Even though not all b’s or I’s might have the same behaviour pattern, why should I run the risk? And anyway, it’s my property. Even worse, supposing a relative of mine had been murdered by the IRA? Since I couldn’t tell whether an Irish accent belonged to a Loyalist or Republican, and may have patience with neither of them, a wish to avoid any dealings with Irish people would undoubtedly be prejudice but would be both understandable and not at all unreasonable. (And no, I’m NOT getting at the Irish - I’ve enjoyed my many visits to North and South - it’s just an example)

Another point raised in a comment was about the treatment of women. I have spent many years - since before discrimination of any kind in the workplace was even a speck on the general consciousness - trying to teach people to stamp out discriminatory attitudes and systems which are inherently discriminatory. But let’s think about two uncomfortable things. Lots of chatter in the media about schools and children’s behaviour and performance; social problems with children; problems of teenage pregnancy; problems with single parents; problems with ‘latch-key kids’ of working mothers. Hmm. Might it be that social engineering skewing the rules about women is working against the successful development of children and the social environment for us all in general? It seems that some teenage girls get pregnant deliberately because they know that they will go to the top of the queue for a Council flat and can then live independently on benefits for which others pay. The concept of an ‘illegitimate child’ is understandable against the background of the period when it was used, but is unthinkable today for obvious reasons. BUT teenage pregnancy whether through carelessness or as a life-plan is a bad idea too. So why not establish ‘residences’ for teenage mothers and their children. Resident House Mother and provision of nursing support, individual accommodation - but in a controlled environment. The child MUST come first. So, yes, the mother must have a social life - but not come reeling home at all hours. If so - enter a form of Social Services that operates rather more sensitively than much of it seems to today. (NO disrespect intended whatsoever to those people in SS who are trying their best to do a v. difficult job. I’ve met many and wouldn’t like to change jobs with them. It’s too hard and often thankless).

Now the real bomb. This could cause a blog-riot. BUT please remember, this is a debate, not a revolution. Only women can have children. The act of bringing a child into the world overides secondary considerations. So tending that child, bringing it up to survive well and with confidence in society, educationg it and hopefully enabling it to exceed the attainments of its parents is what being a parent is all about. A child is NOT a fashion statement. For biological reasons the prime carer is the mother. But the father also has a significant role in bringing up the child which requires his continuing presence and rather more than being a bit of a house-husband. So staying at home and raising the children a woman choses to have is NOT the ‘nothing’ role that so many forms suggest. What do you do? Tick the box. Why isn’t ‘I’m a Mother’ the first and biggest box to tick? That role in terms of responsibility, competences and effort beats anything else out of sight. But it’s seen as demeaning. I can’t say how often I’ve lit up when a woman has said ‘I’m only a housewife, I’m afraid’. ONLY!!! If we had a bxxxxy sight less social enginmeering and a bxxxxy sight more concern for children and our society generally, things would be a bxxxxy sight better. So whilst it’s a hard choice, because of biology a woman needs to choose between becoming the Chairman (Not a genderist word, just a job title) of Globalcorp or being a mother. A recent survey suggests that many understand that choice and prefer real motherhood. I’m for them and will help any way I can.

And then there’s all the other examples of twisted social engineering that are perverting things, not improving them. Crushing one person’s feelings (a.k.a. prejudices) to satisfy another’s. But which pervert is making the choice? And why is it disgusting to challenge the pervert’s opinion?

Phew. I shudder to think what that lot will bring forth. But we MUST debate it and look at other facets. Do some lateral thinking. If everything was fine we wouldn’t have the many social problems perverts have created for us.

Herself has phoned from Waterloo and is safe - so far. She’ll be back by 10.00pm. She cares for me and I’m at a loss without her. So goodnight my friends and sleep well. However difficult tomorrow may be for you - believe me, I’m here for you. Dad.

Funny day, today, without her

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:15 pm

Dull-ish but not too bad today. Have seen herself off to station for train to Waterloo / then to Bromley for quick visit to parents, back tonight about 10.00pm. Bad start to the day as when she returned from collecting the papers she tripped on garden debris thrown on path by blackbirds and hurtled onto the ground and collided with the front door. Damaged knee and twisted ankle but OK for journey thank Heavens. She has knee / leg problems including a ‘weak’ leg that gives way from time to time compounded by a cracked vetebra so events like this are not goood news. Fingers crossed for no lasting damage. Classic Brass playing this morning. Some very good pieces on this CD including Sugar Blues, Mr.Jums and the Valdres March.

Some responses needed for yesterday’s comments - thank you. How can someone arrive at a price of £95 for a shirt? Cost of posh London base, perceived value in the name label (their shirts are really v. well made), cost of v. swish literature and willingness of pluted bloatacrats to pay totally ludicrous sums of money. Simple. But it’s a good shirt for my £25!!

Yes, Jane, our breadmaker lurches into life at least twice a week. Our bread mix is for Crusty White Bread and is ‘Laucke’ brand from Australia. Herself gets it mail-order from someone in the UK. Herself went out to Oz age 21 as a ‘£10 Pom’ (an assisted-passage scheme when Oz wanted UK immigrants) and spent 10 happy years out there.

Thanks to Lordh for his ever insightful comments - but they raise a thorny debating point. In fact a point that ‘dare not speak its name’. Very cleverly, those imposing social engineering on us have crreated an environment in which to question or seek to debate their ‘absolute principles’ is seen as obscene. As a result, people with doubts dare not raise them for open discussion. Now THAT’S bad, for a start.

I don’t agree with social engineering. It’s actually a gross imposition. Who says that I am wrong and the social manipulators are right? If so, on what basis? Perverting the reality of life is a no-no for me. Because I’m not an IMPORTANT PERSON doesn’t make me wrong.

So without claiming to espouse these views personally, let me offer an opposing train of thought to Lordh’s conviction social engineering. (Friends, OK Lordh? Please) Firstly - EVERYONE is prejudiced about something. So perhaps we should support an individual’s right to their own views - whether or not they co-incide with ours. Some followers of Islam think that the ’secular West’ lacks standards, personal discipline and permits behaviour which is inimical to pursuing a decent way of life. Put like that, I agree. Some people abhor the use of 4 letter language in the media - books, films, TV. Me, too, actually. It’s unecessary unless the writer is hopeless and falls back on mindlessness. And so on. The key issue is keep it out of my face and don’t force your prejudices on me.

I haven’t finished but I am finished for now. I’ve had a busy, broken morning and I have to get other stuff done. I’ll return (inherent threat) to the the rest another time. Please forgive me.

So the last word here? I met a really nice person today. Please be a really nice person to the people you will meet today. Stay well - Dad.

3/9/2005

Reachin’ out

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:04 pm

Dull nothing sort of day here. Got all poshed up for business meeting, now back again and listening to an Agency CD ‘Jazz a la Carte’. This is a 2 CD set for people like Radio / TV programme producers who pay for using bits of it. I got it for nothing - another story for another day. But the music sounds all the sweeter for knowing I won it. I also got the £95 shirt I wore for the meeting for £25 including p & p. Could I sell this negotiating skill on e-bay?

Well the flavour of my posts has clearly dropped off a cliff because comments have diminished in quantity though not quality. OK folks - I’ll try harder.

Fascinating discussion at business meeting about gender discrimination in the workplace. I’ve done a lot of work on that and, yes, it exists. There’s so much pressure to assume that ‘we’ are all ‘alike’ as in ‘identical’ when half a moment’s thought tells us that we’re not. ‘We’ are very diverse and the issue should be how to benefit from diversity, not how to mash everyone down into a common splodge. And gender is but one of the determinants.

As you all know I’m an egalitarian. To me, people are equal. BUT they’re different from each other. It seems beyond the ability of many politicians to comprehend this model.

Why is it that very intelligent people (which, by definition, excludes Prescott et al) adopt, argue in defence of and inflict upon us totally, absolutely and completely stupid social models that anyone with half a mind would understand are based on false premises? If they were thick (see Prescott above) I would understand. But many of them are not. And who pays? We do. If they spent their money on a huge folly I would support their right to do so. Spending our money on their folly is outside my view of what is reasonable.

Oh well, fresh home-baked bread and Somerset Brie for lunch. Can’t wait. Meanwhile - live your life today for me in a way that you will be happy to tell me about. Indeed, be proud of. I dare you. Stay well - Dad.

3/8/2005

I’m paying for this prat!!

Filed under: — Dad @ 5:22 pm

Explosion of wrath. Told part of this story before - BUT.

Charity sought someone to hold therapy sessions for young men to deal with Anger Management. They contacted the National Body for the kind of psycho-therapy I do. I can do this stuff. So I said I was up for it. Spoke to nice chap - we got on fine. He sent me sad E mail saying that because they were ‘linked’ to ‘another body’ they had to accept their ‘doer’ and sorry about that but would I mind helping with something else? Of course not.

Thought about it. Found ‘another body’ on web and phoned. Got the ‘pass the parcel’ treatment. Eventually nice person said I needed ‘the Area Manager’ (Ms / Miss / Mrs / Mr no-name?!!) who would call me back. Fine. That was last Wednesday. Oh surprise, surprise - nuffink. E mailed H.Office over weekend very ‘umbly - all my fault / communiaction failure / s-o-o sorry / pretty please? So today (Tuesday) phone call when I’m out. Left message. Called back. ‘I’m in the car’ ‘Oops, sorry (remember ‘umble) call you later?’ ‘Nope. I’ll call you again, sometime.’ ‘You can call later tonight this is my home number’ ‘Nope, I’m busy, I’ll call you Friday’. FRIDAY!!! This mob is a Gov’t funded shower who know they’re on to a good money-making thing and stuff me. Well, I might be thought to be a useless pilloch, but - (SCREAMS loudly using language he can’t use here).

Please, my God and your God or whoever you refer to, GET SHOT OF THIS BLOODY USELESS MONEY MUNCHING BUNCH OF ********* called a government and stop wasting my money of which I have too little. Oh, and yours, too.

I am so xxxxxxx cross. Evil Dad.

Well, now, moving right along - -

Filed under: — Dad @ 9:16 am

Dull here today and kind of raw but not as cold as previously. Quick check on mail and a flying post - no music - ‘cause I’ve things to do and must go dashing out.

We’ve had enough of global politics, methinks, but thanks for the interesting comments. Keep ‘em coming!!

I’ve a lot of research and writing to do, suddenly, on more than one topic. Why must life come in dollops rather than a smooth mixture? ‘Cause then it wouldn’t be life, I suppose. As well as all that, the garden is threatening me. Must prune those. Must weed that. Must buy / plant others. I expect, as usual, I’ll get half of it done and leave the rest. Probably the half that herself is more concerned about. Funny thing, life.

Nourishing steak / kidney and mashed for lunch. Meat cooked yesterday, left overnight for flavour to blossom and finished this morning. Getting up at 06.00 has a number of pluses including getting stuff like that sorted before everyone else mucks the day up. I never was a night owl so how on earth could I stay up playing drums in a jazz band in Soho ’till 3 in the morning? Can’t remember. I really wonder at people who write their auto-bio with a photographic memory for so much detail from the age of 3. I get just a smattering of ‘moments’ like the time Mum sent me to the village shops with a half-crown coin and I dropped it in the long grass on the common because I was running. I was distraught and Mum was v. nice about it. For the youngsters that coin was worth 2 shillings and 6 pence, or one eigth of a pound in [good] old money = 12 1/2p today. Except it bought much more then, when half a pint of Mild cost about 6d. = 2 1/2p today. And beer is about £3 a pint now? Ludicrous. One reason I don’t drink it any more.

Enough of memory lane - unless anyone wants another chunk another time? Old (literally) friends of mine have been writing both their family histories complete with notices, photo’s and w.h.y. and have been nagging me senseless to do the same. I’d be ashamed of the paucity of stuff I have. Oh well. Just hang on to your past - you never know when your future family might want to know about it.

Must dash. Dad’s thought today? We can attune ourselves to changed circumstances even though, at times, it’s so hard to see any hint of sunshine at all in the future. So look for your different sunshine. Cheers - Dad.

3/7/2005

Yes well now -

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:16 pm

Well herself has a STINKING awful cold but has gone off to work. Otherwise a dull day, nothing special here.

Looking back over my last post I thought I would get either a deluge of comment - or nowt. Thank you to Lordh and his eagerly read comments for ‘conflate’. I quite agree that one can’t blame today’s German population for the sins of yesteryear - for obvious reason. However I can’t recognise that post-Nazi Germany has been self-critical. It certainly hasn’t made amends for the unspeakable reults of its history in WW1 or WW2. In case people have not recognised the point, BOTH those appalling conflagrations were caused by the German State - which equals the German people. And that is apart from the unspeakable acts perpetrated on Jews and others not only from Germany but also from other Soverign Countries gruesomely occupied and abused by the State of Germany. Which also does not reflect the abuse offered to thousands of other people including British prisoners grossly mishandled.

If Lordh’s concerns were fully true, then Germamny would have recompensed my Father for his factory that was totally destroyed by Germany. Answer - and restitution - came there none. Sad, that.

Thanks for music ideas from PaulV. I’ll try it all out.

That’s it for today. Dad’s thought? Please live today to the full - becaue I’d love to think of you all feeling vibrant and happy. So do me a favour. Dad.

3/6/2005

Where does the time go?

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:27 am

Crumbs, it’s Sunday already! Sun shining bright but cold out. We’re feeling shattered because herself has a stinking cold and we both got up at 01.30am to watch the Formula 1 Australian Grand Prix. I’ve seen better but glad to see Renault get 1st. and 3rd. with good old Barrichello at 2nd. We stoked up the fire when we got up and were v’ glad of it. But we’re fading fast and I think this afternoon will be a sleepy kind of time.

F1 NOT good for my blood pressure because whilst people may be right in claiming that M.Schumaker is the greatest wheelman in the history of the world, I LOATHE the toad. He’s so BXXXXY arrogant and that obscures, for me, his undoubted ability. As a committed egalitarian I really can’t stand arrogance. A degree of modesty never hurt anyone. Every time I see his face I see a U-boat captain (no cap. c deserved) sinking ships with civilians aboard, a fighter pilot cheerfully machine-gunning refugees, or an infantry leader cheerfully urging the men to burn down civilian’s houses and murder their occupants. And before someone says we did some of that, too, please remember - they bxxxxy-well started it and they could have stopped Hitler cold if they’d chosen to. ‘Crystalnacht’ should have been a turning point which sparked a civilian uprising. Instead it just took the campaign against the Jews to an even more vile level. I lived through that war though was too young to fight in it and my Father travelled to Germany and did business there in the 1930’s so he could tell us what was really happening. Whatever your background, if it’s just written history to you, you’ll never experience the strength of feeling and the revulsion. Even though I have worked in Germany, have made many real friends there and often visit, Germany still throws up the Schumakers. However, in a fit of pure arrogance during the race, because he thinks he owns the road, he tripped over the poor sod he was trying to bluster past and had to retire. Keep it up, Fate!! Make me happy!

And, no, that’s NOT racist and not intended to be. It’s a mixture of remembered pain, memories of such stunning cruelty, and inability to forgive. If I’ve offended any German - or other - with my comments please forgive me, truly no offence intended but please allow me space for my emotional scars. If you’ve spotted the dichotomy of my inability to forgive whilst asking forgiveness for myself - I can’t forgive the excessive physical hurt, death and damage caused to innocents but have offered no physical violence to anyone. Merely, possibly, hurt their feelings a little. But I’m open to a debate that would enable me to see the whole ghastly business in a different light if anyone cares to take it on.

Blimey, that fairly took light, didn’t it? Not a comfortable subject and not what I expected I’d write. But if one can’t talk honestly here - there’s no point.

Which prompts me to think about PC attitudes and so-called discrimination. I’ve taught a lot of people about this stuff and quite support certain aspects of it such as equality of opportunity and treatment. But it’s not even-handed. Why pass legislation to protect someone’s right to respect for their feelings when legally depriving someone else of the right to their own feelings? The example I use (because it avoids racial / ethnic / gender / religious factors) is - suppose at school I was bullied by a red-head. I might well come to feel uncomfortable with red-heads. So why should I have to treat them the same as others with whom I am more comfortable? Where are MY rights to freedom of choice about with whom I associate / employ / w.h.y.? As far as I can tell there’s no answer to this. It’s a moral quagmire. But one person’s ‘right’ may be another person’s ‘loss of freedom’. Hmm. I’d love an answer to that one because I’ve tried to resolve it for years.

Too serious by far!! So thanks to Sarah for her comment about Retail Therapy. You’re S-O-O lucky. I probably buy more books on Amazon to aid whatever I’m researching at the mo. Oh, I also phone a mate. Or mooch around PC World. Looks sad when I write it down, though. Thanks also to PaulV for his kind offer for advice about music. No, I never listen to Classic FM at home but sometimes in the car. I just have CD sets bought for me by people who think I need to be tranquilised (semi-true). As a drummer (or percussionist if they serve cold white wine) I respond to music with a structure and love Dave Brubeck for his ‘off-beat’ work. A-tonal offends my ear for music but it’s a matter of degree as you surmise. And no, my music-feelings are not carved in stone which is why I enjoy Gregorian Chant as much as Opera - apart from Wagner who ends the world too often for me. Stravinsky can be OK Schoenberg writes to hurt not to pleasure (purely a gut-reaction). Malcolm Arnold and various others are fine with me and I have a few chunks of them. So I have an eclectic taste. Some Gorecki is OK - some not. But as a drummer I love a range of instrumental treatments - I’m listening to ‘Midnight Flute’ at present and will move on to Copland after that followed by Sweet Soul. Does that help? Any suggestions for musical moderns much appreciated and many thanks.

Enough, Dad. Today’s rule? After this blog, I’m not sure I’ll be listened to. However - the nice thing about rain is that it ALWAYS stops - eventually. Every ‘no’ in life is a step closer to a ‘yes’ for you. Thanks for sharing my idiosyncratic world. I’d be truly lost without you. Dad.

3/3/2005

A better day today

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:51 am

Bright sunshine and lifted spirits here at The Towers. Gordon Haskell playing again. Interesting piece in the DT by Julian Lloyd Webber about the need for evolving modern clssical musical music and please can we stop the atonal ear / mind destroying mode forced down everyone’s throats for some years now (by Music School Fuhrers?) which simply put people off - apart from the nutters who write it and the stupid people who think themselves cognoscenti by claiming to enjoy it. Impossible, by definition. Personally I’d love to hear some fresh musical music to add to my play-list of the golden classical oldies.

Have been helping herself with her dolls house garden business. She has so many ideas but hasn’t enough time to do all she wants to. If only I could help more.

I’m in a muddle, myself. Life has been a right bxxxxr since about year 2000. Disasters, pain, problems, financial catastrophe. In hospital, under the Doc., popping pills daily, business blown apart - none of that is the real ‘me’. I’m slowly coming out of it but who am I now? What am I? It’s a bit stupid at my age to be questioning any of that. If it weren’t for herself I truly believe I’d be dead by now. She is such a wise supporter - which is not exactly fair on her because I feel it’s a one-way street and marriage should be a two-way job. She’s a born-again Christian whose Grandfather set up the Church in which she grew up and her parents are the closest thing to saintly one might imagine. They’re such lovely people. So I can’t get my head right. She and I had a long chat about that. Should I take myself off for a few days and think myself through? What about a Retreat? As an assertive, professional decision maker who’s successfully counselled many, many people about business and personal problems I can’t counsel myself. That’s a standard conflict - which knowledge doesn’t exactly offer a solution. Is there anybody out there who doesn’t know me who has some sage advice? Pretty please? All contributions gratefully received including ’stop being sorry for yourself, you sad sack’. That has a value but I can’t make it work for me.

On the other hand have had a researched, professional article accepted for publication by the National Body for Brief Therapists to which I belong. This means it is considered good enough to be pitilessly reviewed by my Therapist peers and is considered to add to the sum of our knowledge. Have also been asked to prepare a further academic article about a particular issue. Well, it’s great to be acknowledged by one’s peers and even greater to be asked to contribute a professional paper. So I’m researching like crazy!! Perhaps I still have a value? And meanwhile there are many others much worse off than you, Dad, so quit whingeing.

That’s about it for today’s confusion. Dad’s rule today? There’s no short cut to anywhere worth going. Health and tranquility to you all - Dad.

3/2/2005

Different day today

Filed under: — Dad @ 10:22 am

Cloudy and cold today so lit the fire first thing for the warmth and sheer pleasure of it. Fire, like water, has an endless visual fascination because it’s always in motion. Classic FM CD series of ‘Relaxing Classics’ on - nice because there’s a sprinkling of composers I’ve never heard before. We have a plumbed-in sound system with quad speakers in the living room and twin speakers in the ceilings elsewhere so we can move around without missing the music. Good stuff on a day like this.

An interesting challenge today to design a v.simple manual accounts system for a friend who is setting up her own business at age 40 after being employed by others. She’s not very numerate and is terrified of the Tax people and VAT so it’s interesting to see just how simple I can make it so she can do it without getting lost every week and asking me to help her out.

Apart from that I’ve been mulling over the continuing problems in the Anglican / Protestant Church. They’ve got their knickers in such a twist that the elastic will never be the same again! I think my view of it all is that it was very wrong for the ‘futurists’ to highjack the ‘original’ church and change it to fit their way of thinking. If they want something different they should hop off and set up something different and leave the ‘original’ one alone and its people in peace. Trying to avoid schism simply adulterates a principle and leaves many unsatisfied and very distressed that the current equivocation doesn’t suit them. A bodged job and forced compromise suits no-one. In my youth I was very involved in the Church. I was a church and then cathedral chorister, taught Sunday school, joined the Church Fellowship and so on. Disillusion set in when I was up at Cambridge for a particular reason and it’s got worse and worse since then. So I have an intense dislike of ‘modern’ prayer forms; the original prayer book and bible were fine. I flatly disagree with moving the altar. I am not up for hugging strangers. I want my ‘original’ church back. Good luck to anyone who wants something different - go do it with dumb language and forms of service, women priests, homosexuals - whatever. In my book people have an absolute right to do that - but NOT by taking ‘my’ church away from me. Just by setting up their own separate church which I need not attend. For years now I have worshipped God as I understand Him in empty churches (and temples) of different faiths. An environment for reverence and prayer where I can practise my religion without distress. And I’ve met some fascinating people with whom I’ve been able to discuss their faith and greatly appreciated and enjoyed invitations to attend a ’service’ and understand how another religion is practised. Especially true of Jewish and Hindu faiths. A very difficult subject. I’m not at all sure I’m made my viewpoint crystal clear. I wonder what you’ll say about it?

Dad’s rule today - to thine own self be true, even though it can be hard at times. Stay well and happy - Dad.

3/1/2005

And the day dawned

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:51 pm

Thanks to you for such kind comments on my last post. What you said helped a great deal.

Today? Up bright and early, sharp as a tack, did the business, came home. Depressed by the people I had to work with. No spark. No passionate love for what they do. So why do it?

Spirits lifted by production of miniature ‘tiddy oggs’ or Cornish Pasties. (Is that the right term? Will someone in Cornwall confirm please?). Cook lamb mince, add various veg’s like leeks, pot’s, peas, etc, wrap in pastry, create pastie 3 ins long, cook. MAGIC!!! Takes little time / money, tastes exquisite. Try one. Or several. Hot or cold.

Keep being blocked out of work by gov’t quangos with private lists of ‘approved’ people. I’m not approved of despite the fact I can do ‘jobs’ as well as / better than approved drongoes. Hmm. Face / politics fit, have tick in box. Be an independent soul, no ticks in box. Hmm.

Can’t think of cheering ideas so will slide quietly away. Wish you all well and leave you with Dad’s thought - Please God tomorrow will be better than today. Dad.

2/28/2005

Well, up and down

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:41 pm

V.cold night but sunshine and bliss today. Playing Henry’s CD of Etta James ‘cause I need it.

Huge computer / internet problems started Saturday. Tech.help from ISP rubbish for ten different reasons. Took me until late Sunday eve to make it all work again. See previous entry about extremely stupid IT people. I REALLY don’t need this at the moment.

Up and singing at 6 am. Spruced up and smart. Business today went well. Meanwhile - -

Parts of family and life making me so miserable. I love my ‘kids’ (who are all grown up and stuff) so when one of them turns their back on me it really hurts. Dear me how much it hurts.

Got more busines tomorrow and will be up for it, chipper, smart, on the ball. I’ll win. It can’t mask the hurt.

Dad’s rule today? Go stuff yourself because it will hurt less than when someone you love very much does it to you. Was it deliberate? Well, yes, the act was a choice but I truly hope that the result was unintended. Am I being reasonable? No. Am I hurt? Yes. Make of that what you will. Should I have said any of this? No. Will you tell anyone else how very miserable I am? Please, no. Blame Henry for encouraging me to say how I feel. Dad

2/25/2005

Friday part 2

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:27 pm

Lordh put an interesting comment on my earlier blog. So let’s debate his various perceptions. For starters, too few people are looking over the lip of their glass at what is happening in terms of government. Big ‘G’ is not being looked at in terms of the larger picture. That’s where the trouble is coming from.

I fully agree with him that fascism never left us, it just hid for a while. Now it’s returning with a (real) vengeance. I also agree that this govt. is hideously authoritarian and is busy ripping up our Nation and our heritage by the shed load every day. But few people have cottoned on to this.

Like Lh I am sickened when I read of the ludicrous money paid to (not earned by) pluted bloatocrats whether they do good or not. Sickening. The current govt. is in thrall to anyone with big bucks (bizniz or showbiz) who will drop them a wodge of cash. Then they make them a ‘Sir’ or give them a gong - which promptly diminishes its value for peope who really deserve it.

But I can’t agree that the DM paper is wrong. I don’t read it but SOMEONE has to stand up to the b (as in b. blair) gov’t even of they go over the top. And there are ‘floods’of immigrants and they, plus this ‘diversity’ nonsense, are ruining our country.

No, Lm, Bush is NOT a criminal. He’s doing the best he can for his Nation, right or wrong. And no bastard is doing anything at all for ours.

As for the EU - how in Hell you can give that creepy crawly tape-worm unelected overpaid shower the time of day I don’t know. A slimy, disgusting, underhand sickness that has already sucked our Nation into crawling obsequiousness gladly urged on and abetted by a govt. that cares not one jot for our Nation. I think you should re-think your love of the EU. Or move there. Because we are NOT Europe, we are England (we were Great Britain but blair f’d that).

So what do you think - especially if you are not in what used to be great what used to be britain.

Definitely food for much thought. Miserable Dad

Not Friday already!

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:47 am

Puzzled by phone calls from chums saying ’snowed in’, ‘no food’, ‘car won’t start’. Last two days here dry / bright / sunny / cold-ish wind. Today same but much warmer. We have a micro-climate here that means we never get the weather they tell you about on the TV. Weird. Needed special music today so dug out my Gordon Haskell CD’s. Remember him? He had a one-shot wonder with ‘How wonderful you are’ a.k.a. ‘Harry’s Bar’. Works for me this morning.

Want to say thanks to visitors to the site and the very helpful comments I’ve had. Henry wasn’t sure I should do this and neither was I. Seems to be working and lets me imagine you all out there whom I’ll never meet but with whom I can share something.

Too much to do preparing for two Coaching Sessions Mon / Tue next week. I’ll get there. Actually too many things going on generally. I think I’ve lost the plot at the moment.

I’m feeling depressed about governments at the moment. Perhaps Russia needs an authoritarian hand, but I don’t like where Putin is coming from. Ending state communism was a good thing but the predictable following void was filled with crooks and chancers. Life was always like that. So how to have a quasi-democratic government whilst squashing the crooks flat? China worries me. That is one big mother. But if the steel bands that have throttled people are relaxed, might China break out into Regional strife? The Kurds, the Bretons / Cornish, various Irish, the Quebecoise - Regional focus is springing up everywhere. Meanwhile the EU is steamrollering on towards obliterating long established States - like England, for example. No more England, just nine Regions? What? Roll our history back a few hundred years? And people SUPPORT this? Why does our government (small g) scurry to abandon our RIGHT to govern oursleves? That’s why they’re emasculating our superb armed forces - so we HAVE to depend on the other EU lot. Just look back over two World Wars and see how well we would have done if we depended on them. We’d have been enslaved for decades and would still be now. And we are now. I just can’t see it. Am I the last person standing up for National independence?

Well, I’m too old for this. The baton must pass to other generations. But I’d hate to die with the knowledge that the country I love has been finally sold down the river. It’s the 11th. hour and 30 mins. - but all is not yet lost.

After that it’s hard to find a good thought for today. Perhaps - never lose your belief. Never agree to something that denies us our freedom as a Nation. WHATEVER the bastards say, we can wrench our Nation back from being subsumed into a gross cattle-wallow. If you’re reading this and your Nation is still free, watch out and defend that. Hard won; easily given up by liars and cheats. Have a good one. Dad.

2/24/2005

Too much going on

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:37 pm

Dull day here, occasional mists of rain, nothing much, really. Warmer than yesterday. George Straight and Pure Country on the player today.

Been running around doing Dolls House business for herself. This is getting really serious. How do you make a cabbage 1/4 in. diameter? Answers on a £5 note please. But I’ll figure it out.

Apart from Henry’s preoccupation with food, there’s a lot about it in the papers. It seems that people here and especially the US are obese-ish. Apparently processed / fast food is much to blame for this. I have a problem understanding this whilst believing it to be true. Yup, I eat a hamburger at anywhere that is NOT McDonalds (because their food taste foul) about three times a year. Yup, I order in a takeaway - Indian, Chinese, w.h.y. about four times a year. No, we don’t buy / eat ready-made meals because we can do better oursleves very easily and at about half the price. No, neither of us are restaurant-quality cooks - but we like cooking. Simple food made from the best ingredients. Poole is a port and we can buy day-fresh fish from the guys that catch it. Fresh meat is around at farms, in Supermarkeys. Because if you use rubbish ingredients you get rubbish food and you’ve wasted your money, your time and the fuel needed to cook it. Good simple food can be cooked in minutes and costs less than bought-in meals-in-a-bag. So why do people spend more money than they need eating rubbish? It’s totally beyond me. Example: Buy a hock, (the pig not the wine) it costs about 50pence. Cook it with potatoes and other veg costing about 50 pence and you get a gorgeous meal for 4 or two meals for 2. Why pay more for rubbish? Even less easy to understand, if you’re tight for money, why pay more money than you need to for worse food? Can anyone explain because I can’t make sense of it. Peasants cooked peasant food over smoky fires in simple dishes. It’s all good tasty, inexpensive stuff and we can all do it easily.

So what elase is new? The garden is already getting away from me. Got to do the pruning before the Spring growth shoots. But it’s cold out there and I don’t fancy it. Hmm. I’m just not a natural gardener and I’ll pay for my reluctance later on. BUT I’ve created a garden with no grass because I have no small people who need grass to play on and I regard mowing a lawn week-in-week-out as a total waste of my time. So it could be worse.

If you wanted to give other people one brief idea about how to enjoy life more, what would you say? I’d like to hear what you think.

Oh and on-going thanks to Superior Simon. ‘online poker’ hasn’t reappeared. People like that curdle my stomach and make me feel very ungracious. I don’t ‘do’physical violence and don’t accept it, but I’d LOVE to have one or more of these pillochs who spam me and make me miserable in the same room for a (long) while whilst I expained about their total stupidity and lack of morality. And other things.

Hey, do something for me. Sit down, play some music you really love, think how much life offers to you - and all of us - and feel content if only for a few minutes. If you do that, you’ll make me feel good, too. Cheers, Dad.

2/23/2005

Onwards and upwards

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:29 pm

Windy, cloudy, cold - a nuffink kind of day. No snow, never not nohow down here. Been out workin’ an’ talkin’ an’ doin’ de stuff now back and wrapped in warm heating and more Chet Atkins.

Well my sanity has been saved by St.Simon. Beset by pest ‘online poker’ he’s come up with a fix that turns the silly bxxxxr off. Apparently it’s a mechanised spam to do with influencing Google. Me, I don’t understand this stuff but praise St.Simon to the skies. When dealing with (other) IT people I stun them into silence by saying ‘I am an (old) engineer. I regard a computer and all its works as a spanner. I just want to USE the bxxxxy thing, I don’t want to redesign it, make it, mend it, keep putting it back in my toolbox in the middle of the job, shut the box, reopen the box, pick up the spanner again, start using it again’. What’s wrong with the IT world? Answers on a £10 note please, all 1,000 of you. Other currencies accepted at discounted exchange rate.

Which brings me back to yesterday. Post arrives. Short while after neighbour arrives (puff, puff) saying ‘Sorry, this your mail, came to us’. Form leter from TV authority sent to wrong house number telling me I bought a TV receiving apparatus from X & Y ltd in January but I have no TV licence so pay up or be shot. Hmm. Well I don’t live there, I live here. Have had licence for ever. Why are X & Y ltd snitching on me? Phone up. Get nice guy. Well X & Y ltd. are obliged by law to say to whom they sell things that take in TV signals and the VCR I bought does that. However X & Y ltd did not tell me they were obliged to snitch on me so it’s news. Hmm. G.Orwell, 1984, we’re HERE and NOW. Say for centuries English people presumed innocent until proven guilty but TV lot assume I’m guilty until I prove innocence. Yup. Hmm. Wrong address why no-one check? We don’t. Hmm. More stuff and then am told I will get a ‘reminder’. Say - ‘Stop it’. ‘Can’t’. Say will get out of pram if harrassed. So? Hmm. Say system devised for convenience of TV authority not respect for CUSTOMER - ie s/he who pay money. Designed by idiot. Much silence. Say ‘Arrange for letter of apology’. ‘Will ask’ ‘No, fix it’ ‘Will ask’. Please can we have our country back? If people are copping out of paying TV licence and I am keeping BBC going on my own then system is stupid. So change system. Cancel licence, get blair (doesn’t deserve capital although he is a capital ‘B’) to pay for own family holiday flights instead of using RAF aircraft I pay for and use money saved to pay for BBC. Oh and fire the left wing BBC people who pervert the National news. So now only 4 people left at BBC. Called applied economics.

Surely, please, pretty please, I can’t be the only person who knows this government is filled with statist wankers? Give us back our freedom. Lab wants to make everyone dependent on the government so they are shackled and daren’t argue. That is totalitarian and I’m really not up for it. Every damned day they steal our birthright, history and freedom from us. Look at it. blair’s lot are doing EXACTLY what Hitler did in the 20’s / 30’s. No I DIDN’T say little b (that he is) wants to kill Jews - but a totalitarian takeover is a totalitarian takeover wherever it leads. He’s following EXACTLY the same line Hitler did when he took over the Reichstag and Germany. Read about it. Help! Now! Please!

Take a breath and do one kind thing today. I will and it will help to subdue the pain I feel. Take care, everyone. Dad

2/22/2005

Ruffled feathers

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:50 pm

Cloudy, windy and cold today - and that’s just the weather. Music Chet Atkins & Mark Knopfler.

FIRSTLY - to ‘online poker’ @ ‘tigerspice’ - as a Solution Focussed Brief Therapist (the full title or an SFBT for short) there are certain problems I don’t deal with and they include ’substance abuse’. I don’t know what you’re on, but it’s something. You’re out of your skull and whether or not your ‘insights’ have a value (and in a different context they may have) they do not relate to my thoughts and you are really not welcome on my site. OK? Got that? Go bother someone else.

Alright, what do I do as an SFBT? Well for most of my life I’ve been working with / studying / w.h.y. applied psychology. Conventional psychotherapy lasts for yonks and takes you back - inch by inch - to when you were in your mother’s arms and seeks to rebuild you in a different model. That’s why so often in American films a character says that s/he visits her/his therapist every Thursday at 3 o’clock and has done for the last 10 years. Here, John Cleese has often commented on his reliance on his therapist. Yes. Well. As an SFBT I don’t seek to rebuild you. I just focus on ‘the problem’ and how it can be fixed / ameliorated right now. If a client is still with me 10 sessions on then they are becoming dependent on me - which is not what we do. So I turn it off and tell themI can’t accept their dependency. SFBT’s collect data and the average number of client sessions is three. Well, it works for my clients and it sure works for me. Might it work for you?

OFFER - if you have a problem, I might be able to help you. It works better face-to-face but even via e mail. Just ask - no charge for blog site members. Use my private e mail windsor@power-base.co.uk Well, you can’t lose with that, can you? But NOT ‘on-line poker’, OK?

Well herself is back home and it’s lunchtime. I’ll leave the problem of Orwellian 1984 and the TV Licensing people for another time. But I’ve had a REALLY bad morning and I’m quite out of shape. Don’t like that. Dad

NEXT -

2/21/2005

All downhill for another week

Filed under: — Dad @ 11:55 am

Where did the weekend go? Oh well, it’s 36 deg. C this morning but a steady fresh beeze makes it feel MUCH colder. We don’t normally ‘do’ real cold in Dorset. Off sharpish to the village for money moving, cleaning collection and library visit (was too busy writing a Proposal on Saturday to make usual visit). Saw nice man in cleaners and discussed his new shop in Wimborne, spread cheer at bank and bldg. soc., chatted with nice library ladies - pretty usual enjoyable social visit. Back home, door shut, heating on. Bach and Handel for today. Need tranquility.

I’m playing myself in with some different herbal teas. I’ve been drinking camomile (with honey) for years but thought I’d have a change so I picked up two blends, one based on green tea + herbs and the other on dandelion & burdock + herbs. Much nicer than one might think. I’m an early bird, not a night owl, so my most creative time of day is the morning. For years I drank too much / too strong coffee then. Decided to change the rules and for a few years had just one mug of tea when I got up then no more caffeine till tomorrow. Rocket from the Doc suggests I don’t drink enough fluids so hence the tea experiment. We’ll see what (if anything) is the result. Anyone got any favourites that I might try?

It’s turning into a scrappy morning. I’ve a number of different things to do so chopping and changing interrupts the flow. I’d better get on with it all instead of using blogging as a diplacement activity!

Most people are as as happy as they choose to be. So why not choose ‘happy’ today. Who knows - you might make someone else happier that way, too. Take care - Dad.

2/20/2005

Frantic Funday

Filed under: — Dad @ 2:01 pm

Well it’s cold, clear blue sky and bright sunshine. Fire lit early so temptation to laze by it - throw another log on - BUT there’s masses to do. Music Buddy Rich at the moment. Various Baroque next.

Herself can hardly keep up with need to make more dolls house gardens - trade with the USA now up to 70%. One garden with fountain and bird sold to Texas on e-bay at Buy Now price - bang - in 50 mins. Crumbs.

I’m thinking about hospitals (there’s a cheering idea) at the moment. I spent a year in a sanatorium in Norfolk in the 1950’s with TB. Being confined to bed for weeks when you’re about 24 is a life-defining experience. I’ve been in hospital(s) at other times including a fairly recent interesting time when I was supposed to be in a coma and I have to say that whilst the nursing staff are (fairly) OK the rest is, in comparative terms, rubbish. No wonder MRSA kills 5,000 people a year. My mini-ward was FILTHY. In a week I never saw a nurse or doctor wash their hands between patients at the conveniently placed ward washbasin. I won’t detail the rest of it. And a Staff Nurse (nice person) refused to put a fresh canula in my wrist (don’t ask) not because she couldn’t do it but, as she said to me, she’s ‘not paid to do it’. What? She’s a senior nurse! Many things are incredibly wrong with the NHS which neither the REAL people in it (ie not paper-pushers) nor the poor bxxxxy patients deserve. Thank you, el-pretendo-presidente blair. The NHS was not right before you conned a minority of people to vote for you and you have managed to waste TONS of OUR money on crap non-medical non-patient costs and simply made the whole thing worse. I really don’t feel happy about that. And as for the mixed wards the S.Telegraph is exploring!!! Please think of the worst word you can, then imagine a word worse than that. And you still won’t have thought of the bad language in my head. Oh, and minimus blair PROMISED in both his last two stunning (minority) election victories that mixed-sex wards would no longer exist. WHO THE HELL votes for a disgusting liar? - because mixed wards are disgusting.

Well, better out than in, as Mother used to say. Think of something good, Dad. Yes. Another of Dad’s aphorisms: Excellence is not an isolated act, but a habit. Seems to me that a lot of people have the wrong habits. I wonder why?

It’s Sunday. Listen to fine music. Read a little of something that makes you reach for higher goals. Enjoy the people, pets and environment around you. And so feel calmer and stronger for tomorrow. With Dad’s love.

2/19/2005

Huffle puffle

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:01 pm

Sun shining again, not too cold, busy Saturday and herself having her hair cut in the kitchen. Bought more logs, new fire shortly. Nothing new there, then. Chet Atkins playing today.

Yes, well, it seems that most of the things I write about are as interesting as a dead slug. Hmm. I’m sorry about that. Small, modest fame went to my head so forgive me. Henry says I should continue. Hmm.

Herself is going like mad with the mini-gardens and can’t keep up. I’m trying to help any way I can.

Meanwhile have two requests out of the blue. Can I help deliver Dorset’s ‘Workforce Development Strategy 2003 - 2006′? Yes. Do I believe that massive cost of buildings / people / guaranteed pensions will actually improve anything? No. See T.Blair, the liar and G.Brown, the thief. Can I provide ‘Anger Management Programme for 17 - 25 yr old people’?Yes. So have spent some time writing proposals etc. etc. Prefer the Anger one which means I probably won’t get it. A funny thing, anger. Lots of causes. Simple ways to deal with it. Please let me be wrong and help young people.

Well, that’s as much as I have the strength for. May your God be with you and be happy. Dad

2/18/2005

Busy, busy

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:35 pm

Yesterday’s anniversary was a lovely day. Soft, gentle, warm. Today the sun shines, it’s not so cold and I’m listening to Randy Edelman.

Funny things, computers. They keep not doing what they should. I regard them as something like a spanner. I don’t want to design it, manufacture it or understand it. I just want to use the thing. How have we all become brain-washed to accept computer company dictatorship? Not doing what one has been told they will do is OK and if they don’t - tough. Why is it that the rules that apply to any other product / service conveniently don’t apply to computery? Weird.

Moved on to Scott Joplin.

What’s the matter with people? Got a message to phone X at Y phone number. Do. Answerphone. Leave message. No call back. Phone again. Ditto. Phone again, this time get Z who says X in at 13.00hrs and will phone as soon as is in. Now 13.30 hrs. No phone. A promise is a promise and a promise given on one’s behalf is also a promise. Are modern promises like computers? No, we won’t do what we promised and hard luck? Oh dear oh dear. Sorry, I don’t inhabit that world and don’t find it acceptable.

Why is my office full of stuff that’s so old it can’t matter any more but I daren’t throw away because within two weeks I’ll need it again? You too?

Enough, Dad.

Dad’s rule today? There’s no shortcut to anywhere worth going. Just a thought.
Stay well, be happy, bring some small happiness to someone else. Dad.

2/17/2005

Oh happy day

Filed under: — Dad @ 9:19 am

Wedding anniversary today so broad smiles all round. Lunch should be good and I’ll light the fire before herself comes home. That will be nice. Lots of hyacinth bulbs now blooming in the house - just in time. Smells gorgeous. Severely shaken to find Dave Brubeck CD case empty!! As a drummer I love his ‘off-beat’ tempos. Have run screaming to classical with Lyrita CD by Quad. First number is ‘A Winter Idyll’ by Holst. About right for today’s cold.

Previous post brought universal agreement no-one voted for Blair’s lot. There MUST be enough of us by now to tip them out, surely?

My views on men protecting women / children threw up a real misunderstanding over the fact that a (missing) culture of male chivalry has enormous broad social benefit without conflicting in any way with women’s potential. Men behaving chivalrously towards women and protecting all children from harm is a thoroughly appropriate male role. It has nothing whatsoever to do with gender equality which I’ve been preching since before it was an issue. I appointed a female Managing Director and made her a Member of the Inst. of Directors years ago when she was a real curiosity. We were often invited to give a joint talk about women being pretty good at things and how to break the infamous glass ceiling. Oh, and she had two children whilst doing the job. No prob. Actually, there are various ways in which women out-perform men. That, too, has nothing to do with protecting them. Chivalry and care result in much improved standards of social behaviour from which both men and women benefit. Coarse and inconsiderate male behaviour makes life worse for all of us. As for abusing children - ! The nauseating behaviour towards women of men from other societies is merely a sign of a repressed and undeveloped society. Were our standards of behaviour much more chivalrous we would have a good example to demonstrate. As it is, public behaviour by too many Brits at home and especially on holiday might lead others to prefer a more structured and respectful form of society even with manifold attendant disadvantages. Both are bad but in differing ways. Hmm. I’ve long felt that aggressive feminism did women’s lot in the world a great deal of harm - albeit for misgiudedly good reasons. End of social commentary.

Am back in the saddle teaching people things. When I started providing business training 40 years ago I figured the idea had a life-span of 10 years. After that, the people I’d taught would be managers and able to teach their own people themselves. Instead of declining, the need just got bigger. And today’s people seem to know much less about things in general than their peers of 40 years ago. Weird. The more we learn the less we know.

Two more of Dad’s rules: Losers let it happen; winners make it happen. And if you can’t be beautiful you have to be tidy. (That’s NOT a gender-based statement!) Have a good one, everyone. I plan to. Dad.

2/16/2005

It’s a funny day

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:56 pm

I’m not in a good mood today. It’s bright and sunny here in Dorset but VERY cold (We don’t ‘do’ cold in Dorset). Music is Billy Ray Cyrus and I’m struggling with some research for a job I’ve got to do.

In case you missed the comments, there was some chat about PC language / attitudes. I’m v. strongly in favour of respect and courtesy as well as care and defence of women and children. PC is simply stupid. The leader of a committee is a Chairman.That word has no gender connotations, it’s just a word describing a role. A chair is something you sit on. I’ve had to put up with some of this stupidity and it, and the people who use it, make me exceedingly cross.

Which brings me to the current government and would-be president Blair. If we live in a democracy, how can a raving pilloch whose party won a minority of just over 40% of the vote have such a whopping majority that he can ignore Parliament altogether in many ways, smash both Great Britain and the United Kingdom which have been around for a few centuries and take his family on holiday in our mini-equivalent of Bush’s Air Force 1? I’m paying for that and I REALLY don’t like it!! The reason for the vote fiddle is gerrymandering. The whole beastly lot are as bent as a nine bob note, as we used to say. But can I find who the person is who voted for this ramshackle Nation shattering party? No. And why has this person n-million votes when I and all the people I talk to have only one each? I’m not joking - because destroying my country is not a joke. I could go on for another couple of days but I’ve had it up to here with lies and fraudulent theft of people’s money (ie stolen by force under false pretences).

Pursuing Kimberley Quinn the moment she leaves hospital after the birth of her child with legal actions demanding paternity rights and God knows what else is a good example of a Labour politician’s idea of caring for someone. How in God’s name can Blunkett do that to a woman? Putting her through the wringer says a lot about how much he cared for her. He should be put down, behind the potting shed, preferably in a way that takes rather a long time and hurts quite a lot. He’s a damned disgrace to every man in treating his one-time lover like that for his own satisfaction. Graceless, domineering sod. And yes, I think he’s climbed mountains dealing with his infirmity and I don’t think I could have done it. But that’s no reason to behave so disgracefully to a woman. See above reference to care of women / children. They come first for real men.

I’d better stop. As I said, I’m not in a good mood. I think I’ll have lunch.

Dad

2/14/2005

Merry Monday

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:58 pm

Well the sun’s shining, it’s cold, and I’m playing Rimsky-Korsakov and other Russians today.

Had a busy morning so far doing ’stuff’ for the mini-gardens. Much excitement yesterday as 8 people fought each other to a standstill on e-bay for a matched pair of dolls house flower beds. Stratospheric price! Plan A this week is to make some more, pronto. US market still buying more than Europe. Must think about what that means.

Apart from helping herself by preparing materials, sawing, filing, etc. ready for her brilliant craft skills my working week started today by NOT buying interesting small business that needed rescuing from idiots (plural) who think that posh new premises (always v. expensive) and IMPORTANT personal motors (always leased) come first and making a profit so the business can continue will look after itself. So 35 nice, ordinary people lose their jobs. I HATE that kind of thing. But can’t do the deal at a price that would work. So, there we go (again).

Tomorrow is Pin Point Coaching day. Have developed new approach to training business people which I’m trialling with a nice company. First session well received; session 2 becons. Hmm. We’ll see. If it goes OK I might Franchise the idea. I’m serious.

Why don’t people answer? I wrote to four people from the 1950’s and e-mailed a couple, too, about something v. important about our past, and memories about when we went into the RAF as raw officer cadets together. One (mini) answer. Am I the only person with a passion for the past? If we don’t save it, future people will never know what we did. Example: V. important Officer came as Guest to v. important dinner. All there in full fig. Posh. Smart. Yessir, nossir. Boring speech. Relaxed coffee and stuff after. Thought rotten speech deserved dealing with. Collected al-fresco gang. Sauntered out to the Gents. One distracted driver of BIG BLACK car parked at front door of Hotel. Rest of us highjacked bronze bust from entrance hall, wrapped it in (hotel) blanket and parked it, carefully, in the boot. NO in those days that was NOT vandalism - it was initiative. Took them days to figure it out. Heh, heh. Am I the only person who’s been doing stuff like that? Feels like it, sometimes. Harmless fun. No damage, no-one hurt, good jape though. Hi Henry - bet you never knew about my non-conformist past.

Just a Dad thought. Edna O’Brian said: ‘Political correctness is the replacement of intelligence by cant’. She could be right, but how many young people know what ‘cant’ is? Why is this stunningly stupid government (not worth a capital G) ruining our children’s future - and our land? I’ve never yet met anyone who voted for Blair so who the Hell is Hell bent on detroying our country? Dad.

2/12/2005

A bright weekend

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:53 pm

Weather bright and pleasant. Music on computer John Denver. His ‘Sunshine on my shoulders’ has me in tears every time.

Self & wife paid regular Saturday visit to village for library and other chores, she having visited dreaded Tescos at 05.30 as usual. We’re early birds not late owls! She now off to purchase more materials for making more dolls’ house gardens - demand is booming! New product idea was flower bed with some flowers + dug hole, trowel, plant in ceramic pot and empty pot with earth left in, brick surround, sold to USA full price within minutes of appearing on e-bay. (Help - how do I put pic’s on this blog?) Now selling more than half to USA. Thinks - set US trips off against tax, open US Branch? Whatever next? Old shedfull of illegal immigants living in squalor on no money mass-producing ‘genuine fake mini-gardens’ (see prior post re e-mails)?

Had an odd ’senior moment’ yesterday following a late lunch (veal escallopes + veg). Had a snooze (a.k.a. Power Nap), did an hour’s worth of research into current project and said ‘I could really go some suet pud’. Enterprising wife says ‘Will Christmas Pudding do?’ ‘Yes - with syrup on.’ Ate. Happy.

It’s dangerous leaving me alone. I read in the DT that a Poole-based company is to be closed by a B-I-G Public Group. Just fire the 35 staff and move on. Having trawled the web for info - successfully - have e mailed the Ch.Exec. (the one with the posh chuvver driven car; multi-mega-bucks pay; stratospheric expense a/c; obscenely big bonus - and various things I can only guess at) and told him I’ll rescue it. If he says yes, I’ll have to figure out how the Hell to do it. I suspect he’ll say no (too much trouble) and I’ll tell the press. Sad, that (Heh, heh). The little people really do have ways of biting the ankles of the obscene. Watch this space for news.

I was never a conformist. I’m happy about that. So it’s my fault Henry’s a non-conformist, too. But I figure I have to live with myself 24 / 24. It brings me a lot of pain; it brings me some fun; now & again it brings me such pleasure of spirit when I get a result for someone. Above all, it allows me to live with myself.

Henry, who bravely invited me into his world, hoped that the nature of this blogging dialogue would grant him an insight into Dad’s world. I think his wish is being granted by some weird form of osmosis.

Dad’s (borrowed) rule today is a quote from George Bernard Shaw: ‘The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends upon the unreasonable man.’ No sexist attitude implied by the use of the word ‘man’. Oh, and it works for me. Stay well and be happy. Dad

2/11/2005

What a slow day

Filed under: — Dad @ 12:51 pm

Well nothing much seems to be happening on the blogging front and my last comments clearly didn’t hit any funny bones. It’s wet down here and rather raw (or as raw as it gets in Dorset) so having been up to the village I’m glad to be home. Music at the moment is Linda Ronstadt & Emmylou Harris. Good stuff.

I suppose everyone will be doing Charles & Camilla. Same problem as with Ellen - very yes or very no accompanied by muck-raking and invidious comparisons. No quiet, reserved view focusing on the ‘now’ just a media feeding-freenzy. Dream marriage gone sour + media assassination + divorce + death + gross comments at funeral service + unending prurient media interference - blimey, how would anyone feel with that round their necks? Surely he deserves a bit of peace and happiness now? Certainly marriage beats a kind of shady ‘love life’ business. If they’d let the poor bloke marry her in the first place a whole lot of bad news would never have happened. You’ve deduced I’m not a Diana fan. As for the fathead who came up with the idea of the lethal rock-pool compounded by the group of even bigger idiots who had it built (with someone else’s money) what were they all on? Half a mind would have said what a lousy / impractical idea it was. I dunno. I’m just sick and tired of having it all thrust down my throat. I expect he is, too.

Are you sick of e mails? Well Iam. For a start, every day my Norton Security throws out about 35 mails concerning medical pills, my sexual performance / personal characteristics, spoof ’send us your bank details now’ stuff, offers of visual images of things that sick people do but I don’t fancy - and dud products. I loved ‘Buy genuine fake Rolex watches’ Wow, rip-off stuff is now official!! Since I never open / reply to this stuff, why do people keep mailing me? Crazy. Then I get some genuine stuff which I am happy to deal with. The main problem is that when I mail out with some query that is important to me but not to the person I mail, they simply ignore it. So what’s the point? I’ve gone back to sending faxes because no-one does any more. So at the other end someone comes up to a desk and says ‘Wow, look, we got a fax today!!!’ That way my fax trumps whatever is on their screen or in-tray. Works for me. I reckon the whole e mail thing is just too clogged up to work as a means of communication. So what next?

Saw my chum from 60 yrs ago yesterday. His home has no shower and no full length mirror. He stayed Wednesday night in a Travelodge down here and rejoiced in a (rare) shower. Stepped out and was confronted by full length mirror. ‘Aaargh - do I REALLY look that fat?’ Is now on self-imposed bread & not much water diet instead of daily fried breakfast / whisky / heavy lunch / wine / sleep / repeat as required normal programme. Well, he might have had a heart attack.

Remember, there are five keys to our lives:
The things we HAVE to do
The things we WANT to do
The things we HOPE to do
The things we do for FUN
The ATTITUDE we show to others

Make sure to do some of each one every day. Dad’s rules!

Take care, everyone - Dad

2/10/2005

Oops - missed a BIG bit

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:54 pm

Re Lordh’s comment, teacher to bunch of 14 year olds - there should be a Team Leader (a.k.a. an NCO) in other words a pupil appointed as Team Leader and therefore (a) on the spot and responsible when teach is elsewhere (b) peer to other silly wally 14 yr old and can sort him/her out or yell ‘TEACH!!!!

Sorry about that.

Good point

Filed under: — Dad @ 1:43 pm

Lordhutton’s comment on my post ‘It’s a busy day’ raised a fundamental point. How do you stop young people from being irresponsible? By making them responsible at an early age. As a Brief Therapist (another of my ‘hats’ - it’s a special kind of psychotherpist - works wonders) I’ve been helping someone whose child is being bullied at school. ‘Teachers can’t stop it because they’re busy and aren’t there to see what happens.’ Precisely. ‘Does the school have Prefects / Monitors?’ ‘No’ Wrong, wrong, wrong.’

The armed services have been figuring out how to run a navy/ army/ air force for centuries. They do it quite well. There are two basic groups, commissioned officers and other ranks. Called Teachers and Pupils. Officers come in two groups called field rank (army term) and junior ranks. Called Head Teachers / Heads of Year and Teachers. Other ranks come in three groups called Warrant Officers / Non-Commisioned officers / other ranks. Called School Prefects / Form or Year Monitors / Pupils. Other ranks can become Warrant Officers. Pupils can become School Prefects. Other ranks can become officers by passing through officer training. Pupils can become teachers by passing through teacher training. Spooky, innit? But it works. So which b idiot had the idea that no pupil should have more responsibility than another? Teaching kids from an early age to take responsibility for others and for various functions in school is a tremendous benefit to them. It also teaches those who are not promoted to that role to achnowledge authority and do their bit - otherwise their peer pupil will explain the meaning of life in simple terms. Not an adult - an equal.

So to the 14 year old kids. NEVER let anyone (kid or adult) loose without necessary training and a sound briefing about the task they face. After that they are responsible for themselves. Come on, people & kids have to learn to take responsibility for themselves. How do they learn? From training and by experience. We all fail at times (experience). Occasionally the outcome will be really bad. That is awful - BUT it’s how real life works. We CAN’T wrap kids and adults in all-safe cotton-wool. We learn our lessons and take our chances. It is impossible to gurantee 100% no-fail security. Life isn’t fair - but the better prepared one is the better chance of dodging many of life’s nasty little surprises. But we ARE at risk all the time. There’s no such thing as life-cotton-wool and the sooner we learn to be responsible for ourselves - and others - the better and safer for us. Here endeth the lesson.

Answering Lh’s post - when it all gopes wrong somebody learned something. Very occasionally it goes horribly wrong. V.sad for the one caught; huge lesson for the rest of us. Real life’s a bitch.

Postscript on tiny gardens

Filed under: — Dad @ 9:38 am

Posted previous and then found this mail from the USA. My, I’m so proud of her!

‘Hi , the beautiful little gardens arrived today, long before I was looking for them, so they came as a surprise. I think they are lovely and I’m so glad I bought them. Thank you so much for sending them to me so quickly. They look beautiful outside of my dollshouse. I have left very positive feedback for you and would love to buy from you again. Thank you very much.’

Quite brings a tear to the eye. She’ll be dead chuffed when she gets home!

It’s a busy day

Filed under: — Dad @ 9:21 am

Blown away by kindness / number / swiftness of comments. Cor! Thanks. Re kind enquiry about my handle, I think just Dad wivout the Henry. Then I can be anyone’s Dad who happens to need one for a moment or two. Music first - I normally put a CD on when hunched over my keyboard. Vangelis’ Oceanic this morning. s-o-o-thing. Might be Chet Atkins, or the Tavener Consort (that was yesterday) or Gregorian Chant. That’s for when I’m trying to manage a piece of research and make sense of it all! Expecting flying visit from teenage chum (from 60 yrs ago) who lives in St.Albans. I want to show him some of my wife’s work. Apart from her (half) day job she hand-crafts gardens, flower beds and planted containers for dolls’ houses. 1/12th. scale a.k.a. 1″ =1ft. V. artistic & v. fiddly. They sell like hot cakes and she has a growing fan club in the USA. I help with Product Innovation, Raw Materials Purchasing, Marketing, Admin. Oh, and light the fire.

My desk is acquiring snow-drifts of paper so must devote an hour to my own admin. I hate that. Actually I hate anything that is basically mindlessly repetitive. That’s why when we moved into the last house and then this bungalow I had ‘the men’ in and all the grass removed. (No small kids so no soft landing needed). Replaced by hard landscaping, low maintenance planting and a pond. Must have a pond - which must be 3′ deep for it to be ecologocally balanced. (No kids). Works well. (I’m a mine of small pieces of useless info.) In both cases ‘men’ said ‘You can’t not have a lawn’ (I LOVE double negatives). ‘My garden - no lawn. Mowing lawn more than once boring, repetitive, dull. Waste of part of my life-time.’ ‘Small piece of lawn?’ ‘Nope.’ ‘It won’t look right.’ ‘It will to me. And remember flower beds DON’T have straight dges.’ ‘Straight edges neat, orderly, easy for trimming edge of lawn.’ ‘Listen, sunshine, we have deal. I pay folding used money and make tea / coffee / provide biscuits. You do what I ask you to do. Which bit of ‘please’ don’t you understand?’ ‘Yes, Guv.’ ‘Splendid. More tea, anyone?’ Well it works for me.

A couple of things in the paper including the one about the Parliamentary Education Committee unhappy because School teacher Union urges members to refuse to take kids on trips for fear of litigation if there’s an accident. Me, I think this litigation / compensation thing has got seriously out of shape. Accidents DO happen. Why has this culture developed that says any ‘it’ must be someone else’s responsibility / problem? Any accident is a terrible thing. But people are fallible / stuff breaks / weather happens. Providing there was no deliberate / criminal intent - like beating up half blind 80 year old widows in their own homes (oh how proud some young muscle-bound total moron must be to brag about doing that to some inoffemsive pensioner - too scared to take up boxing so someone your own size can smash your face in, too?) then it was ‘an accident’ and stuff happens. Ah well, have a good one, everyone, and remember another of Dad’s rules. Do someone a good turn today without anyone knowing and without being thanked. Otherwise it won’t count.

2/9/2005

Watch out, World!

Filed under: — Dad @ 8:49 pm

O’erwhelmed by general feedback and extravagant compliments from son, I’ve caved in under Simon’s kind offer to help a web idiot to have his own blogsite. So I’M HERE NOW! By the way, pls see my comments on Simon’s site about the Ellen issue. So why am I mad about what happened today ? Well amongst other things I’m a qualified Mediator and have researched and published stuff about the subject. There is a NationalBody called Mediation UK to which I belong. I was asked to present a Workshop at their conference in March. Blushed. Said ‘Sure, thanks’. Phoned today to ask for details so I can prepare. New boy in job says ‘I’ve never heard of you’ Thinks: ‘Sounds good’ I gave him reference to the details and he is so off-hand and rude. Keep smiling. Agree I won’t do Workshop and say no, I’m not offended. I am, actually. Very. By what he said and how he said it. Ask if he wants copies of a special check-list I did which other Mediators say is great and there’s nothing else like it available. He’ll think about it. Could you let me know in 7 days please? I have to get the quantity you need printed. ‘I’ve got a lot on and can’t do that. I’ll let you know sometime if I want some.’ Dad’s rules are that if you agree something should happen then you agree the date by when it will happen so the person waiting needn’t worry every day in case the ‘doer’ has forgotten. No need to chase until agreed date. Simple, practical sense, also good co-operation. Explain I need to know if he DOESN’T want them and will be on tenterhooks because of time needed for printer to do job if it’s needed. ‘Well I’ll look into it some time.’ This person is young enough to be my grandson, goddammit. Since when was uncouth rudeness a part of business life? And who the Hell does he think he is? I’m happy to be an egalitarian but he reckons he’s superior. Really??? Enuff, Dad, enuff.