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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.