MAGGIE

MAGGIE DIED TODAY 18TH OCTOBER 2019

23 SEPTEMBER 2015

MAGGIE

Aww the baby. She is a holy terror, gives off the most misleading, grovelling vibes, I’m sure its deliberate because the truth is she is the most stubborn determined tenacious little tyke ever.

She has discovered she can climb on my chair I did try to discourage her and it worked for all of about five minutes she simply does not give up. Little girl is a natural lap dog but she is afraid of heights so the lap is safe as long as she can’t reach.

Thing about that is its no longer working. Its taken a while but she has at last discovered jumping. All she has to do is keep leaping and holding until she gets a proper grip and sufficient height.

She’s on my lap I’m soft when I need hard and what with Ollie going deaf I sometimes sound quite loud too. it doesn’t work. Little girl plays humble but she never gives in. Last evening I had two cats and one Maggie on my lap. I know I could lose some weight but really my lap is not that big. I was squashed.

Not one of them would give way and get the hell down.

Some people are fooled by all the grovelling, tummy exposing and fawning as though they think poor Maggie is afraid of the merest whisper. Don’t be fooled. Little girl holds her own, has stolen Jezzies bed and steals Ollie and Jezzies food.

Stubborn little girl may have been mistreated in the past I really don’t know but I do know she has put it behind her.

Look at my beautiful girl and know that I will miss her all day every day forever

16/11/2019

A brief update so you can see where my beautiful Maggie and I began

You would not believe how much a little girl is missed, although perhaps you do already know Here is a picture of Maggie to show you how afraid she was when she arrived here. Poor little girl took a while to relax and grow in confidence but she made it. She discovered her bark and my goodness she never stopped barking at every person, car and bird. She was also a very good mouser if she found one he was quickly done for

Almost a Week

The loss of Maggie also known as Bubsy is as painful as it was a week ago I/We Jezzie and I miss her more than I can say.

Yesterday I went to town, a dead and alive hole with more shops shut down than open. I had to go to get 20.00 Euro for the vet and guess who forgot to get the cash...

Yep, no matter what I don't change but to be fair I had things on my mind. First I don't blame the driver who killed Maggie but I do wonder why when they had a full, clear view of the road and what passes for curbing, the driver chose not to beep, slow down or stop not even to commiserate when they killed a tiny dog who had never received good or even decent treatment from any Irish person. I was given Maggie by someone who rescued her from an abusive life threatening situation. If only he knew the poor little girl would be dead in only four years.

Also not exactly on my mind but skimming the edges of it was a conversation, if it can be called that, I had with the one who kindly gave me a lift into town. I was and am grateful a ride into town  is a rare occurrence but the conversation was odd, close to peculiar for the driver seemed to think I had once given the impression of wealth and I don't know where or what can have given him such an idea. I became a pensioner within a year of arriving in Ireland and I have been a pensioner ever since, nor is it a big pension just the usual bog standard British pension so probably not as much as the Irish state pension  He seemed to think it funny I don't care but nor do I think it particularly funny there is nothing funny about living on a state pension. Oh well.

 Maybe its me being over sensitive or maybe my one time thought of selling this house and buying another is what may have given him and perhaps others the idea that I must be rich. Who knows and who cares. My hope now is to get another dog not a young fliberty gibbet an older dog of maybe 5 or 6 would be perfect for me and Jezzie Pippa will acclimatize... 

James Bond

Some time ago I wrote a comment on YouTube about a new mini series I said I thought it was wrong and I stand by that. In my comment I said something about James Bond being transformed into Liberace which I have decided was a little extreme.

James Bond was as almost everyone surely knows written by Ian Fleming a journalist (tells us all we need to know) and author.

The James Bond Fleming created was the worlds best fighter, lover and spy. He was also British which to be fair was Fleming's area of expertise.

But, if it was Fleming's area of expertise why did he create James Bond as a straight man? Surely almost all of the known British spies of his day were not just traitors to the UK they were also gay. This is just the known spies there were probably other, better spies who were and are still unknown but being gay was obviously not a hindrance to work. So why did Fleming ignore the facts and write salacious fiction? Was he afraid to go anywhere near the subject of gay men which to be fair was at that time both criminal and disliked or and perhaps more likely if mercenary did he write James Bond as straight simply to get the books published and sell more.

Today there is a strong element that wants James Bond to be black and that does not make sense. In every book Fleming wrote the enemy was always of European descent and to be fair to Fleming that is where most of the UKs and the Wests 'enemies' were from. If James Bond needed to fit in and he did he had to be European, but he didn't and doesn't have to be straight.

Its kind of amusing that as far as I know not one strong, capable, great fighter is portrayed as gay. Not one and not only is that not historically true its the loss of a major opportunity. To make James Bond black would not work but he can and perhaps should be gay.

The Conservative Tree House AKA Last Refuge

More Leaked U.K. Diplomatic Cables Against President Trump as British Authorities Promise to Catch Leaker…

I like this blog have done so for at least a couple of years It leans slavishly right but in many ways particularly when  you look at what calls itself ‘left’ these days so do I.

The problem is for some reason it doesn’t seem to ‘like’ me I don’t mind that but I do mind not being told I’ve been blocked or what or even if there is a problem because unless you are told its impossible to be sure what or if there is a reason.

Last Refuge is a ‘serious’ blog every day it publishes two posts presumably for nonsense and serious comments, so do read this ‘serious’ post of theirs to see what on earth you have to write to gain approval to comment on their actual posts, and feel free to check their other posts I’ve looked at several and have concluded they’re all the same.

The UK was involved in the Christopher Steele dossier that is obvious. Darroch, however he spells his name, is a typical brainless jobsworth diplomat who if he can do nothing else can definitely crawl to the UK prime minister and probably to  president Trump until he got caught. Darroch deserved and got the sack.

The main thing is the UK does what America wants and when Obama was in power he wanted Donald Trump trashed. Christopher Steele sounds as though he was a rubbish spy, but Darroch was Ambassador to the most prestigious post in the world.

Its said that Darroch was involved in the Christopher Steele episode in which case so was the British govt which means so was Barack Obama. Its simple arithmetic but it seems to be beyond Last Refuge and their commenters. Did they all go to the same school…It would have to be fairly recently not so long ago schools in the UK and America actually educated pupils

Update 16/07/2019
I know I should do it first but I never have and probably never will...
Funnily enough Kim Darroch was promoted to Ambassador to Washington in January 2016 and 2016 just happens to be the year of the pile of rubbish known as the Steele Dossier. Interesting...

Dunkirk May 27th 1940 to June 4th 1940

A few weeks ago someone said something about Dunkirk of all places and today I saw something again about Dunkirk. I thought how odd something that happened so long ago can still cause anger, contempt and admiration.

Dunkirk was not much of a battle in a way I think it was fair warning of what would happen to all battles fought in the old traditional way of army meeting army and the last one standing wins. I don't think battles or entire wars are fought like that anymore.

Dunkirk was a huge British loss but that's not what made it special, what made it special was the way the defeat was handled because the defeat was handled brilliantly.

I don't know if the Royal Navy couldn't get their boats onto the beach my first thought is the Royal Navy damn well got the army there they could damn well bring them home again as indeed they did. But not before announcing to the British and the world that the British army had been defeated  and was stranded on the beaches of Dunkirk and would any fishermen, yachtsmen, sailors on leave or anybody with a rowing boat kindly sail to Dunkirk pick up the stranded soldiers and take them to the Royal Navy ships which were further out and couldn't get into Dunkirk to rescue the soldiers.

And that was it. As far as I know hundreds of little boats sailed from the UK or nearby to rescue the soldiers.  I believe there may have been one boat from Ireland I know I've heard, read and seen endless boasting about it.

It was a brilliant strategic idea hundreds of men in their forties or older, remember anyone younger would have been conscripted, got into their little boats and rescued the British army from the Nazis on the shores of Dunkirk.

Unlike some I don't think there was any attempt to disguise the huge defeat. As far as I know maximum effort was used to tell the British and the world that the British army had been defeated and was stranded on the beaches of Dunkirk and would anyone with a boat kindly go to Dunkirk and rescue them.

When I was young it seemed every year a fuss was made about the surviving little boats they're probably all gone now in any event the fuss has definitely gone.

Dunkirk was probably the start of early retirement for the odd admiral and general it was also the start of some rethinking of how to fight a war.

A year later the British Special Air Service was founded on July 1st 1941

The Spitfire was first used as a night fighter aeroplane during the summer of 1940

Dunkirk was a major defeat but it was not a surrender it was a change of plan

9/06/2019

I did a quick check and discovered that 850 little boats sailed from Ramsgate in England to Dunkirk

Hmm

A bit of a rag bag mixture but lets start where I was side tracked.

Youth is relatively new Not long ago up until the 1960s teenagers were not regarded as an almost separate breed they were simply young adults and treated as such, most didn't go to university they simply left school, got jobs and that was it. The change probably grew fast in the 1960s and 70s but its first hesitant shoots surely appeared in the 1950s.

It can't be over emphasized but as you can see teenagers owe their very existence to two world wars and the surviving adults determination to make sure their children had better, easier, much more enjoyable lives. To that end parents and adults spared no pain or energy to try to make young dreams come true. It seems to be unrecognised but its probably, I'm no expert, one of the greatest, most innovative tolerant and amateur success stories in human history, except its not a success. It must be very close to one of the most monumental failures in human history

A century ago, children under ten years old were working down mines, cleaning chimneys, working all hours in mills and other factory jobs, and no parent wants that for their child.

I have recently spent some time watching what I will call Oriental films their other name would be Asian and since I can't stand the overacting, over arrogance of the Indian male, the entire Indian film industry and the sheer medieval insanity of Islam I'm going to continue to call the films I've been watching Oriental...

The first thing I noticed is these films and tv series are full of some of the most fuckable young men I've seen in decades so you can see watching has not been hard work...It has been intriguing...

So, there's this beautiful young man, and I do mean beautiful handsome simply does not cut it, aaanyway, there he's stood clearly frozen solid and puffing warmth into his hands. All one wants to do is pick him up and wrap him in a nice warm duvet - for a couple of years. And then one spots the feet and can't help but notice the complete absence of socks. I have to say its one of those little things that not only puts me off it sends me on a cultural by pass.

Socks, socks are always optional or are they? When did the UK and other western cultures decide socks are essential? I don't know. I do know the UK welfare state didn't begin until 1948 and anyone who thinks the British working class were born with a pair of socks on is out of their mind. 

Clogs are wooden shoe type things which I think the Dutch usually get the blame for inventing but did they? The British wore clogs and somehow the idea of wearing clogs with socks doesn't quite work. Its like flip flops who would or could wear socks with flip flops? I'm not an expert but I think socks would have to be reinvented with two toe sections for socks to work with flip flops.

Clearly the sock thing is cultural but is it also a huge media and political lie? The British definitely did not have the money to buy socks and that goes right through British history including the 1930s years of depression The very idea that the British had money to spend on socks when the only income most of them had was for working long hours in low wage jobs, and those wages had to pay for rent, food and clothing for husbands, wives and children. Socks would either never have existed in most households or when difficulties arose they would have been the first to go.

And yet, and yet, I remember socks as ordinary, everyday items we all wore. I remember darning needles and those toad stool thingies we used to darn torn socks on. To be honest darning wasn't as far as I know done by my own or my parents generation but it was done by my grandparents. Cultural? Yes but how and why...

I may return to this subject. I may even ask out loud how many pairs of shoes are spread around the average Oriental home...Think of the average family two parents, two children that's eight pairs of shoes and slippers right in front of the door. I'm not being classist, racist or arrogant I am being curious...

Watching

Its the third South Korean TV series I've watched and thoroughly enjoyed. So why, what does S Korea get right? I lasted through the first series of Designated thingy and gave up half way thru the second, well alright not quite half way. But I've watched two of the S Korean series at least twice So whats the difference?

I think its the lack of  'meet, don't bother to shake hands just hop straight into bed' routine that western tv series are so fond of, and then there's the politics slithering its way into every western doesn't matter what the subject is you very soon see who are the baddies and exactly who are the self sacrificing goodies.

I think the S Korean tv series I've watched have a joy about them, an exhilaration that hasn't been apparent in western films and tv series for a very long time. A stick to the story and if politics has to be involved make it relevant ethic. Another thing you don't see in S Korean tv series is the absolute total fucking nonsense of 'race appropriation' and then there's the sheer joy of youth, the bonhomie in simply learning to be friends as teenagers not children.

In western films and tv series the kids no sooner meet than they hop into bed. It seems to be expected but is it, ever? I don't think so I think its part of the never ending sales job the media and politicians do to enforce their will on the trusting, unsuspecting public. I cant imagine one parent wanting their 16 year old son or daughter to start hopping into bed before they've sat the school exams let alone got into a university or found a first job. In the west we seem to have bypassed flirting, fun and sexual discovery in favour of gender confusion.

The latest S Korean tv series I'm enjoying is Hwarang its great fun and because its in Korean you have to watch it at least twice to get the full story. Or perhaps its me who needs to watch more than once. I do it a lot with videos, films and TV series I like perhaps I spend too much time switching from one site to another and too much time trying to follow the dialogue to actually really watch what's happening to the story. Or perhaps really good TV and films are so rare now I want to savour the good ones hold them close in my mind to overcome and defeat the appalling shows made by western tv and film producers.

Or, could it be the cast are so much alike? Same hair, same uniform, same height, same age! I can't tell em apart but what matters is I'm intrigued enough to make the effort and I simply cannot imagine even being interested enough to watch any politically correct, cast by colour Netflix production, and I must admit I like the idea of young love shown in the traditional, real way. Its refreshing. 

Repeal the fucking Eighth

IF Ireland has a heart they stole it from somewhere else. All this! from the country which did a roaring trade in illegal adoptions, where women and girls were imprisoned and forced to work in Magdalene Laundries, where young boys and girls were physically and sexually abused in Industrial schools and convents, and where more than SEVEN HUNDRED DEAD BABIES AND TODDLERS WERE DUMPED IN ONE CESSPIT! No healthcare and no death certificates for those children of Ireland.

Its not as if abortion doesn't happen, right now in Ireland women and girls are making arrangements to go to the UK or an EU state to get an abortion, that means that at the most difficult time of their lives women and girls are forced to leave their homes and families and endure the most traumatic decision they will ever take not just alone but isolated from everyone they know. And do you know this intransigent attitude maybe responsible for more abortions than there might be if women and girls were able to think calmly, get proper advice and make their decision surrounded by friends and family.

REPEAL THE FUCKING EIGHTH

The Two of Them...

Its never mentioned, possibly its forgotten, almost certainly its disliked even hated, but its still true.

Bill Clinton and Donald Trump have something very important in common.

Oh, both are good strategists and tacticians but they are not what set them apart.

What sets them apart is both are Alpha Males. The Alpha male has been around since humans first fell out of the trees and until the twenty first century the Alpha male was a known and recognised species, but the seven stone weaklings have taken over the west and the Alpha male is cast aside.

Except its not easy to cast aside an Alpha male, most of the time the Alpha appears happy to let the tribe do what they will until the tribe goes too far and that has been happening for years, the slow painful descent of the western male into obscurity is visible and no Alpha male will allow the descent to continue without a fight and being Alpha the fight is to the death.

Clinton didn't have to worry about the downfall of America in his day it wasn't even an idea but the slow descent begun with George Bush gathered pace with Obama who is nobodies idea of an Alpha male Obama has a hard job being accepted as masculine Alpha is out of the question.

And its as simple as that Clinton wouldn't have tolerated an Alpha male in the Democrat party let alone in Congress. He ruled, ruthless, corrupt whatever it took he used it.

Trump is much the same he won't tolerate another Alpha in his vicinity. Trump will do whatever it takes to keep what he has won and he will demand the respect he thinks is owed to America.

Bill Clinton was almost ignored by the Hillary Clinton campaign team and that was their loss. He is charismatic, friendly and politically decades ahead of the lobbyists and office boys.

And, think about it, the very idea of Donald Trump putting any opinion or advice above his own is just ridiculous. 

 No, neither of them are nice people and Clinton maybe a serial rapist but that doesn't alter the fact or the Alpha, being an Alpha male is probably what the Democrats and the left hate most about Donald Trump, they've got to get over it the more people see of an Alpha male in the White House the less likely they are to accept anything less.

Donald Trump is an Alpha male and that is what America needs and the west need

I'm Giving Up...

Definitely, positively giving up. There are at least six multi packs of tinned dog and cat food there are as many if not more multi packs of twelve individual packets of dog and cat food, at least two of each are open and there is a large pack of dry cat food just in case...I'm considering opening another tin of Cats Club but I will have to be careful and only open a tin of stuff they like...

There are three unfinished, hardly sniffed, meals in the kitchen lunch was thrown to the birds and I have had enough. I know its an old worn out saying but there are billions of cats and dogs all over the world who would be grateful for what those three leave. I must have the best fed crows and magpies in Ireland if not the world hovering over my garden, and I have had enough.

I am unused to sniffy fusspot cat and dogs. Not so long ago my beautiful Ollie and Trixie would have polished off anything those three were too posh to eat and as for Herself she would not have dreamed of eating anything of theirs and nor would she have allowed anyone else to touch her plate...

I spend a fortune on cat and dog food but its not about money In a way its about choice.

I have Caesar, Pedigree Chum and Tesco dog food I'm considering Winalotts... I have Cats Club, Felix, Sheba and Tesco cat and Whiskers cat food, there is also a carton of Gourmet but I can't remember if its cat or dog food and I'm not going t check. I'm considering throwing them in the bin.

I tell you there is nothing more disheartening not to mention frustrating than ordering expensive cat and dog food, putting it in front of cat and dogs and having all three turn their noses up at it. I even cooked a piece of fish for them, they wouldn't touch it. Nothing is more infuriating, well there are things that are more infuriating but hanging is no longer an option and until I move so is any legal, legal action.

The three of them can jolly well look at their untouched dinner until they eat it.

I miss my gorgeous Ollie, beautiful Trixie and irreplaceable Herself Tax. When I move I am going to buy them a stone cat and dog memorial each they would be wasted here

30/04.2018

Jezzie has been naughty, she knows the old chair belongs to Pippa but she has decided she wants the chair. As far as I can tell its not a comfortable chair and I cant be sure but having been used and abused by Pippa and Ollie for years its probably uncomfortable and lumpy. This doesn't appear to bother Pippa or Jezzie.

Pippa just tried to get on her chair, Jezzie wouldn't let her. I would like to ignore the little spat but I think I must get Pippa and make Jezzie get off the chair...I'm beginning to dislike the damn chair.

I did make Jezzie get off the chair I did put Pippa on the chair so its a pity Pippa wouldn't stay there because she had no sooner jumped down than Jezzie jumped back on the chair. I think Pippa would share the chair with Jezzie but what can you do Jezzie is Irish and they don't share they steal. 

All Over?

No. Not a chance. Poor oul Mooney didn’t even begin to explain where he got my address or where he and his off white friend parked their car. Of course they could have spent almost a day getting from A to B by bus I’ve done it, but it doesn’t explain the walk from town to my house. Cretins they maybe but if they didn’t know both of those are evidence of collaboration before they know it now.

Did I say WordPress stopped sending me their daily email of sales blurb? Yep, they did the last one is dated 10/01/18. I’m not bothered by it, why should I be the emails stopped the day after they would have received a little billet doux from me.

So, NO, the debt stands.

Clacton, Essex, England

I just Want to Say

Because its bothering me

The other day there was a power cut of course I had to check all my appliances to make sure it wasn't something at my end being temperamental and then I phoned the Electric co and asked if it was a real power cut, they said it was a major power cut in my area and correcting it might take a few hours.

I was not rude or in any way impolite but I did go on Twitter & have a minor rant. Just a few short words which may have included a couple of swear words slotted between the list of electrical things that are essential to staying alive in Ireland. I did not mention my age nor did I mention the electrical co by name. To me electric is electric how many other names does it need?

Funnily enough the electric was switched on quite quickly I relaxed and put my laptop on and there I sat, checking, reading, deleting and otherwise enjoying myself for maybe an hour or so, and then, the laptop said 'Your battery is low' I immediately checked the appliances and discovered the power cut was back in full force...

What in such a situation is one to do? I can't speak for anyone else but being out of options I went to bed to read and sleep.

A couple of hours later the phone rang the man on the other end asked if my electric was working. I checked and said 'No' He replied it might be another couple of hours. He did sound a bit nervous but I was not bad tempered or in any way rude. I think I thanked him for the call then I went back to bed.

Another couple of hours went by and then I got another phone call This time it was from an electrician who was trying to find my house. I got up and went outside in time to see him pulling up. His van with its flashing lights made a considerable difference to the undiluted blackness of my house. 

He jumped my garden wall, the gate latch was damaged by Berni the horrible taxi driver, and came in. I can't tell you what he looked like because he had the biggest most powerful torch thingy I've ever seen on his head and anyway what he looked like is irrelevant. He came in followed me to the kitchen, took one look at the electric thing and asked "Who did this?" I told him "I did" In this house there aint no one else to blame...

Aaanyway he switched all the switches and lo and behold! The electricity was back and away he went. It couldn't have taken more than a minute and that includes making me switch lights on to show they worked.

This was not the first time there has been a power cut in this area I think its the third but this is the first time anyone has checked to make sure the electricity is working. I was very impressed! And very grateful. I thought 'they don't do this in England'...

I think I may have switched too many switches on the whatever it is that rules the electricity in this house. Thing is there are four switches for heat, cooking, lighting and plug points, so what I asked myself are the other four switches for? I didn't do so when the first power cut happened I asked myself this question during the second power cut and that's when I switched those four off too. This may have been a mistake...

So, I just want to say thank you to the nice people at the electric company.

Birthdays

Are funny ole things. It doesn't matter how old we get a birthday never goes away. You'd think its unimportant, irrelevant to today that even if we didn't know our date of birth we do all know our age, and what is age anyway but an arbitrary measure depending for its very existence on whichever calendar the tribe, race, species use.

And yet, and yet, each time a birthday comes around we either celebrate it or try to ignore it. I'm sixty eight years old today and I would very much like to forget today is my birthday. Strictly speaking I am not another year older none of us are, and yet, we cower from the very thought of another year older.

The religious, and there are far too many of them, would say we should celebrate and be thankful, they would insist that the older we get the more we should reflect upon our lives do the simple arithmetic of achievement versus failure and be thankful.

As if!

I would happily write the last ten years of my life off of every calendar, yearbook and history of my life. I went from one correctable mistake to eight years of burning, permanent scars. I would give so much never to have set foot in Ireland for anything other than holidays. And yet I had spent so long dreaming of living here and no one told me its a horrible place to live, part of me is annoyed that the Irish who escape never tell anyone they were delighted to get away and will never return for anything but holidays and maybe funerals.

Today is my birthday. I'm sixty eight years old and like all of us I'm still learning. I will tell you this though and it is a fact.

If you are going to make mistakes make them while you're young for the passing of each birthday means you have less time to correct the mistakes you make and live happily ever after.

Happy birthday to everyone who is sixty eight years old today. I hope your debts are paid, your house is your own and you have a nice strong pension to rely upon. I hope you ignored the law and got as much of your wealth as possible salted away in one of those lovely, warm and welcoming off shore bank accounts.

But in spite of it all I will tell you this I will grab tomorrow and every tomorrow with hands teeth, nails and spirit.

Tomorrow is a word full of hope and possibilities. Never let go of tomorrow 

Who Runs Blogging?

I've come to the conclusion that at its root, I was going to say heart but lets not be silly, are Europeans and some Indians. Indians don't invent things but they do tinker they are non stop tinkerers, very often they improve things but not always and not blogging sometimes they are actually dangerous because unlike most Europeans some Indians don't seem to have a stop mechanism.

There are four Indian types I know of who supposedly blog on Wordpress I say supposedly because I don't believe they do actual blogging, I don't believe they are obsessed with photography and I definitely don't believe any of them live in some idyllic rural community in India, well the open field plumbing has the potential to cause all sorts of problems starting with in most western countries the only thing to look out for on the streets is dog poo.

None of the Indian bloggers tell the truth and that's a fact.

Which leaves the Europeans and if anything they are worse, the odds on the European bloggers I've read telling the truth are minus and falling.

Who would move to a place like Glastonbury in order to be witchy? the whole of the British Isles are riddled with sacred stones, sacred trees and sacred caves, and none of them have been so thoroughly Americanized as Glastonbury not even Stonehenge. Its exactly the same as a twelve year old running off to London to meet the latest boy band because naturally she will no sooner get there than they will meet and the leader of the band will fall in love with her and they will live happily ever after, there is no adult sense to it, and that naturally confirms the suspicions of anyone who knows teachers.

It took me some time to realise that blogging attracts grifters, frauds, dreamers and the downright insane, and some of them are dangerous.

I like blogging but I really don't like or trust Wordpress. I use it for good and sufficient reason but I'm convinced it has some of the most criminal and perverted minds in the high tech world running it. I'm also convinced I'm effectively blocked from publishing blogs on Wordpress. Oh the buttons click and the blog says published but I don't think anything I post gets beyond a few corrupt conspirators and what's sad and pathetic is there's a hierarchy among the conspirators and not all of them will get the published post.

Blogger maybe less corrupt its harder for me to tell because whilst I know nothing I post is published I can't yet be sure who blocks the posts. For example this and almost everything I write is written on Blogger first - for safety and then copied and pasted onto Wordpress and I know that's necessary because one almost completed post was deleted just as I was about to publish and one post I wanted to republish was continually blocked.

A few minutes after I finally managed to publish the post the creature who was blocking it actually 'liked' my about me page in acknowledgement that A) I did it and B) he wanted me to know it wasn't a fluke he had been sat in front of his computer screen actively blocking every move I made.. Imagine the unthinking arrogance of that and then imagine how bored and even sick the blocker must have been to have nothing better to do than block me not just once but continuously for more than an hour

I am as they say coming out I want the owners of Wordpress hung from a tree. I want the truth about blogging known to everyone Gawker wasn't alone he was just caught by a richer man than anyone on Wordpress or Gawker.

Time after time we read of lunatic bloggers being forced to retract, to apologise and sometimes to pay compensation, but none of that exposes the real criminals who run Wordpress

I'm coming out, if Mick Fealty, Eamonn Mallie, Alex Kane and David Vance think its worth suing go ahead, they were the start of it all, they formed the gang that got me 'trending' on Twitter. As for Aedicula and the ex New Hampshire professor, well Aedi can't decide if he worships a suicidal boy, indigenous American Indian religion or one of the Japanese religions He pleads poverty all the time and the New Hampshire prof has his nice fat pension. All are complicit, but none quite beat the ole prof when it comes to being in your fifties and boasting about your fiance...How many fiances is that in fifty plus years?

I forgot to mention John Mooney of Keeping an Eye on whatsit fame. I can't leave him out not when he traveled all the way from the north of Ireland to county Mayo just to stand outside my garden gate with his afro haired friend to point, laugh and gawk at my house...

I haven't named Aedicula and the professor because it seems a shame to identify so many at once, but I'm sure Aedi is well known and thoroughly disliked in the Seattle area. He has an unusual attachment to his childhood home, ordinarily I would dismiss it as nothing but I suspect something he hates manifested itself when he was in his teens. It changed his life which means his adult life may not be as he once dreamed it would. The prof is not much more than an overgrown schoolboy and probably very well known for being just that they both really should have stayed away from Ireland it corrupts the weak.

A Boss, A Friend, A lover

Is it possible to think of a lover or a friend as also being a boss? Of course relationships of all kind happen but if Joe Bloggs becomes your friend or your lover do you think of him as your boss?

Its seems a simple question but I think its really quite deep and in its depths are the answers not just to the relationship but to the individuals involved. In some industries the exchange of occasional invitations to dinner at the boss or workers home is a regular occurrence but what does it mean? There are obvious dinner party conventions but they are whilst not exactly formal usually friendly but not friends affairs. In both cases one part of the party is trying to impress the other part Hard then to simply be yourself.

I have some previous when it comes to both lovers and friendly and when it comes to friendly I have made one or two horrendous mistakes but that's the thing isn't it what you or I might assume is the norm may not in fact be so to someone else

We each think in different ways, make different assumptions, form impressions even beliefs that may be far removed from what others see as reality. I was going to say truth but in such cases truth is very much in the mind of the beholder, and its so easy for us all to mistake, misunderstand the views of others if we base them as surely most of us do on our own belief, opinion or reaction.

Experience is a funny old thing we use our own experiences to make decisions about ourselves which is natural but also about others and it seems to me that suggests over confidence. The older we get the more we rely on our experiences but surely that is a very one sided and potentially not just erroneous but disastrous thing to do.

I have been friendly with all my bosses, some became very good friends and I don't know how that happened I don't even know if my own behaviour changed very much as a result. Part of me doesn't see how it could because surely it was me being me and they being they that made the friendship possible?

Ah well, its three in the morning and never was there a better time to while away an hour on imponderables 

Mums and Dads

All of us should think first of the welfare and protection of children they are our joy and they are our responsibility. It seems today some people regard a child almost in the same light as they regard a promotion at work or designer clothes and handbags. A kindof piece of extra and disposable luggage, and that is something everyone should reject with the utmost vehemence.

Every baby is entitled to the best both parents can give. In fact in a world full of entitlements a baby maybe the only one who is rightfully fully entitled to the best the parents and family can provide. So it bothers me when I read about people, both men and women who have children almost as a kind of accessory.

There was a case in the United States of a woman who with her partner decided to have a child, I think with medical help she actually had two when she was in her sixties. So there she was in the real world with two children and she couldn't cope. The children were taken into care and honestly I don't know who I feel more sorry for, her, her partner or the children, but I know who angers me in my opinion both parents want locking up!

Some trans people have been known to put off having the full female to male transition until after they have had a baby and what kind of parent a person like that will be is mind boggling but one thing is certain such parents can't possibly be described as ideal.

So why do some people seem to think the suitability of the parents and the best possible upbringing of the child is irrelevant?

A carefully ignored aspect of elderly parentage is the fitness to play with and teach a baby, then a toddler and then a child. Its not all reading nice books and pointing at the local wild life. Its football, tennis, chess and a million other activities that require speed, agility, intelligence and physical fitness.

Those who become parents in their sixties will be in their seventies when their child is ten years old think of the sheer selfishness of that, and that is even before you start to think of the disabilities that tend to effect older people they can be anything from arthritis, heart disease and back problems to dementia and all before their child has entered their teens, and that's not the worst.

There's autism that's worse than anything that can happen to parents. If you look at the research it says autism maybe a factor in a child born to aging parents, hopefully that is a very rare occurrence but it is true autism has grown enormously over the latter half of the twentieth century and its also true that no one knows why so whilst I am to say the least sceptical I also have to say every possible cause of autism should be carefully looked into and eliminated.

Personally I think the pharmaceutical industry, and it is an industry it exists to make money saving lives just happens to be a happy coincidence, may bear much of the responsibility due not only to the modern preponderance of drugs for children but also to the insistence that all children have the myriad inoculations pharmacists and doctors insist parents must subject their child to, they do this knowing there are serious unanswered questions hanging in the balance and that the affect of an unsuitable inoculation on a child can be life altering and dangerous.

No adult should have a child without carefully considering every possible situation no child is a disposable accessory they are the future, all our futures 

I hope everyone had the Christmas they Deserve...

Maggie has decided my lap is now her chair.

Its my fault OK I'm weak, I let them do as they want, particularly Pippakin who is the last I  have of England. The murder of Trixie has changed Pippa. She is more demanding, she wants more food, no not that food, different food. Its not unusual for madam to have three different dinners all at the same time and none of them to madams satisfaction thank you very much.

I gave in. I had to she'd still be screeching at me if I hadn't. Madam has my chair the one with the old cushions on it. I have another chair one with new cushions and I daresay if I wasn't sitting here with Maggie on my lap giving me cramp I might be comfortable, but I'm filled with foreboding and its not all Maggie's fault. Jezzie must take some of the blame she hates, really hates the cold and our straightened circumstances mean putting the heating on for more than a couple of hours is out of the question, so in silent but very firm rejection of the cold Jezzie has taught herself how to take herself off to bed.

As soon as she gets in from the garden and decides she's not going to get any more food or sweets she wriggles her way under the duvet and disappears until she decides something worth getting cold for is happening. Taking care of Maggie is evidently not something Jezzie is interested in or prepared to be lumbered with.

I have cramp but Maggie is so comfortable she obviously has no intention of moving. I want a cup of coffee but that too requires movement. When I finish this little whinge I might evict Maggie and go and make a cup of coffee. The worst thing about living alone is not missing anyone in particular although that is very real, its actually having to make your own tea and coffee, every time!

My girls had a good Christmas and considering where I am I had the best Christmas I could expect. 

The Night Before Christmas - Unfinished

Twas the night before Christmas
And all over the world
Men guarded and watched
For who next would be killed

Who in Yemen would starve to death
Or be shot down in a bullets sharp breath.

Who in Palestine would risk their life
To show an Israeli the truth & the fight

Who in a million alley ways & streets
Would drift in their blanket off to sleep

Who would lay in the blanket in the dawns freezing light
Never to a awaken from the sleep of the night.

Ireland

That is supposed to cut me to the soul isn't it. Hard luck. 

You remind me of a taxi driver I regret I know He actually wrote a poem for a priest and why would any fool do that? I didn't ask I didn't need to I just assumed he wanted approval of his marriage. He was divorced you know I know this because he called the woman, she may have been his first wife or not, a bitch. and why do that to the deceased? He would have been desperate for acceptance by the Catholic church and probably donated a goodly amount of cash to the Catholic cause too but I can't confirm that...

I was reminded of someone and I do want him and his friends to know I remember them well

Huh!

Two dinners is one too many & then she wouldn't eat either of em, what is one ordinary mortal to do? There was a time, in August would you believe when Pippa knew her place, that would be the one behind Herself and when she left us behind big, bold, beautiful Trixie, who while incredibly good natured and affectionate was not fond of siblings, particularly Pippa.

Times change, my beautiful Trixie has gone to join Herself and Ollie and so many others I can't name them all, But I do think Bertie, Topsy and Sam would be welcoming or at least indifferent. Bertie would be the most indifferent. No Persian aristocat would deign to notice a tabby moggie even a big one with long fur. Tom would hate her and as small as he was for a cat he would rip her ears off before he would welcome a strange cat into his home. The same applies to dogs of course I hope he has grown accustomed to Ollie and doesn't sit on a chair wait for him to walk by then leap out and attack him as he did Sam.  Topsy my pretty Yorkie would probably have been the most welcoming, well Trixie was bigger than her...

Getting back to the point Pippa has changed, yesterday or the day before she and I had a long discussion about which chair is hers. I did not give in I got her out of my chair four times and I told her, her chair is the same one its always been. Its the one she shared with Ollie, if climbing on his back and scratching him can be called sharing. My chair is my chair! OK I'm giving serious thought to buying new cushions and putting the old ones on her chair but I might not she's had the same damn chair for twelve years and it was not a cheap chair, well it was but only until I got it reupholstered.

She has got to eat her dinner and I have got to grow stronger and not give in to her non stop meows Do you know she has a very pink, very healthy looking tongue and her teeth don't look bad either. Which reminds me I forgot to order dry cat food I must add it to the list immediately she looks upon dry cat food as a kindof snack...

Gerry Adams is Retiring.

Collecting his pension he will be, and a very nice pension he has to look forward to, it has to be because no one who swans around Irish and/or UK politics for a few years leaves without a very nice package.

So, that's the easy bit done, what next? Hmm. Sinn Fein are probably panting to get him to retire, not because its him particularly but because the young are always convinced they can do it better. But who have Sinn Fein got with Adams personality, perseverance and, admit it, his quick wit? No one, maybe because there can only be one star in a political firmament at a time but also because Sinn Fein politicians are on the whole exactly the same as all politicians, which means not very intelligent, not at all empathetic, and not very good actors.

In fact Sinn Fein politicians are just like politician in these islands. There were two who stood miles above them all and they are Martin McGuinness and Gerry Adams

Some say that for Gerry Adams its finished he will never be elected president of Ireland. Look at Michael D Higgins they say, never done a thing wrong, well look at him he was a member of the Labour party, a party with so much brushed under the carpet they need climbing apparatus and oxygen to get across a room. Funny thing is none of the difficulties Labour got into are ever mentioned in relation to Michael D Higgins he is a respectable president.

I wish Gerry Adams a long, peaceful and successful retirement in the company of friends. 

I actually find it difficult to write about Gerry Adams when Martin McGuinness retired it was due to very serious, life threatening illness his illness made it easier to write and be honest about him. As far as I know Gerry Adams is in good health and will live on for many years. I don't grudge him those years, of course not, but, there's that but again...He has those years, something he is alleged to have denied to many.

But! Is Gerry Adams worse than Tony Blair? that's a hard question to answer because in many ways I don't think he is. From what I've seen of Tony Blair he never met a lie he couldn't tell, a person he couldn't cheat or a country he couldn't betray.

So, yeah I wish Gerry Adams a long and happy retirement.

Martin Ferris is also retiring all I know about him is the Sunday papers once declared he was the writer of all the 'P O'Neil' statements the IRA used to issue to the press, and that he once met a couple of IRA men on their release from prison. The men had been in prison for murdering a Garda. Hmm. Ferris didn't need to go and meet the men. He did it to show loyalty If Ferris has a sense of loyalty and showed it for friends and colleagues that maybe his saving grace.

I know and so does anyone who reads this blog that I could and should have checked all the facts and checked the grammar and filled the post with links. I don't do that. I write what I think.

When I Began

Writing a blog I didn't expect anyone to read it maybe a passing stranger now and then more likely family until they got bored. I had no idea of what the internet does and I must admit I didn't care much if at all. If I thought about it I thought no one would care what an obvious amateur wrote.

I thought those who had popular blogs where anyone could say what they thought on any subject were a great service. I never thought about blogging as an almost wannabe industry, a money and fame making industry.

I had what must be one of the worst computers ever made and if you add that to a truly appalling internet service its easy to understand why I never understood blogging is just another industry, that was then and to a degree its still true I am incredibly naive about blogging but poison drips and flows and today I wouldn't trust a word any blogger uttered or wrote.

But this post isn't about other bloggers, journalists or web sites. Its about what and how I write. You see I don't and have never wanted my blog to be written according to the rules of the queens English. I want it to be me, written the way I feel like writing about what I like, dislike, admire and even envy at the time I write it. I want the issues I care about to express me when I write about them.

So, when for example I write about horses my latest fad, I don't want to write like an expert or even a lover of horse racing in general I want it to be an amateur exploration and viewpoint, and that's what applies to every subject I write about. Oh, I could look up all the stats and with the help of copy and paste I might even sound like an expert, but it wouldn't be me and it wouldn't say what I want the posts to say. It would in fact be almost the opposite of me.

I wanted and though I write less now I do still want everything I write to be identifiably me. I want to capture if I can the rhythm of me writing as I speak and feel.  I don't want to write like someone trying to make a name for themselves although I think no one could deny I have definitely made a name for Pippakin, but that is another and yet to be fully explored and exposed subject.

Right now Pippakin is asleep on her chair, Jezzie is asleep on the bed and Maggie is pretending to be asleep on my footstool, she's pretending so hard she's refusing to get off the damn footstool.

Hard to believe not so long ago there were six now there are three. My life is a wreck, much of it my own fault but not all of it, not by any means all of it...

This is me, still a believer in witchcraft even though there are very few blogs about the craft that get anywhere close to the reality of the subject and this IS ME a definite no holds barred amateur saying so.

This is me still holding strong political views on just about every political subject.

Still totally, furiously against all child abuse but with more experience of the internet regrettably very suspicious of some of those who claim to be victims of child abuse.

And still just as furiously against all abuse of animals and even more suspicious of many You Tube video clips of animals being 'rescued'.

Perhaps I should write more about the last two subjects, perhaps we all should particularly those who write from an amateur perspective. The victims need help and they won't get it from anyone with their eyes and intentions firmly fixed on their own descent into fame and fortune.

Some want to get every dot and comma in the right place I only want to express myself 

Knock, Knock...

Of course I rushed to answer, well OK no one could describe what I did as 'rushing' dawdling gets much closer to what I actually did, but be fair I did answer the door fairly quickly, there are only so many steps in the hall, and to my complete lack of surprise there he stood another one of the world famous totally untrustworthy Irish cowboy builders...

His very first words however were not about the house or any other building, he said and he did at least try to look anxious that he thought he'd driven his white van over a white cat, or perhaps not, he said he couldn't be sure...bear in mind this is Ireland and my views on both Ireland and murderous cretins who drive over animals are well known...Naturally I put on my best concerned cat lover face and told him I would check the very streets..
.
Did I mention Pippakin was asleep in her chair and I have never seen a white cat in this street? We are in the midst of a family dispute about who owns 'her' chair but more of that later.

Getting back to the point, this particular vision of Irish duplicity was stood in front of me trying unsuccessfully to look as though he cared about cats or indeed any animal. We tossed the how dreadfuls back & forth for less than a minute then

He got to the reason for his visit. He offered to clear my guttering, I think its called guttering, but the talk of murdering cats had annoyed me and I'd had enough by then I gave him the answer guaranteed to put all Irishmen off I told him I couldn't afford it. He was shocked! He told me it would only cost fifty euros. Bless his stolen cotton socks...I was unmoved

I will never understand how my mother managed to miss the gene that must reign supreme in most of Ireland I think it maybe because she got out of Ireland as quickly as she could and married an Englishman.

Man O' War

I couldn't leave the posts about SeaBiscuit and Secretariat and ignore the magnificent Man O' War. He was grandfather to SeaBiscuit and related to Secretariat through Secretariat father Bold Ruler and though he maybe little remembered now Man O War was the most beloved and famous horse of his day.

Man O' War was loved by many but arguably he reserved his affection for his groom Will Harbut and it was mutual. Will Harbut called Man O' War 'The mostest Hoss' Man O' War was so popular the phrase became a well known saying. Will Harbut bought his house near Lexingtons Far Away Farm and looked after Man O' War and this was not an unusual arrangement.

Man O' War with his groom Will Harbut

Man O' War died one month after the death of Will Harbut.

I should say that black grooms and jockeys were very much part of horse racing in those days. It seems to me black people don't always or often get the credit they're due for their role in horse racing. I don't know why that is where are the records of black jockeys and is what seems to be a lack of interest of black people in horse racing due not to racism but to the ghettoisation of black people? And is ghettoisation the trapping of black people into modern plantations a form of racism in itself?

Sadly I  maybe at least partially wrong about racism in the horse racing world here is a link to Lexington Herald Leader which explains a bit more

http://www.kentucky.com/sports/horses/article44052153.html

As I've said before I'm no expert on horses, horse racing or any of its more social history. I have read that at one time in America horse racing circuits were among the few places where rich and poor regardless of colour or birth would socialise and circulate as equals. I hope that is true and if it is its something to make note of and be proud of.

Here is a link to Horse Network https://horsenetwork.com/2016/03/man-o-war-mostest-hoss-ever/ which gives far more information than I could even attempt.

I think if I dig deeper I will try to find out about a horse called Hastings described as one of the most aggressive, bad tempered and belligerent horses ever and of course he was grand daddy of Man O' War...Here is a link to some much more reliable and knowledgeable info than I could ever produce...

http://www.tbheritage.com/Portraits/Hastings.html

Acrophobia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acrophobia

Means a fear of heights. Its not funny so why people make video clips of extreme fear is beyond me to guess.

I couldn’t step on let alone walk across a glass bridge in fact my stomach clenches just looking at it, walking across an ordinary bridge would be hard enough I wouldn’t even consider attempting to walk across a glass one.

I don’t know why these people tried to walk across a glass bridge maybe they didn’t know they were afraid of heights before they stepped on the bridge.

Live Aid - The UK Part

.

Was in 1985 that's thirty two years ago, most of the people there are in their fifties now, the audience looked so young, so full of enthusiasm for the cause, the music and for the occasion. Many of the audience will have spent the past thirty two years, having families, working to keep them and if they thought of it paying into a pension fund.

No one in the Live Aid audience was racist, bigoted or against any religion, after all the vast majority of them had little or no knowledge of the threat Islam represents.

Look at the audience! Young, energetic full of enthusiasm and look at the years since then, Live Aid money and it must have been £billions has gone. Too many wars no one in the audience or on stage wanted fought in their 'name' and worst of all people still starving and dying all over the world.

Many if not most of the audience will have voted for Brexit, Brexit was their 'Fuck You' to the establishment for lying for decades and for the danger to their families the EU establishment have created.

Thirty two years brings change, name one good one.

See, Its Like This

Trixie ruled the work top. She allowed no invaders and she did not share, such an idea would never cross her mind. Tax aka Herself was by the time Trixie came along indifferent to status and in any event nothing short of an earth quake could shake Herself s  own sense of superiority and Trixie knew it. No, it was Pippa the territorial battle of the work top was intended to and succeeded in keeping Pippakin firmly at ground level.

And for twelve years it worked. Pippa stayed firmly grounded until my beautiful Trixie was mowed down by some thug in a tractor.  Its no good thinking I will ever forgive or forget anyone who knows me knows that's a non starter.

We are however now going through what I hope will be a fast if steep learning curve. Pippa has never learned the rules of the work top. Both Tax and Trixie knew the rules of the work top poor Pippa never had to and now she does.

The work top has the sink almost in the middle. Tax and Trixie both knew for them the sink was the Berlin Wall. I and all the paraphernalia of kitchen, washing, cooking and cleaning were carried out on 'my' side of the wall. No cat was allowed to cross it and they didn't, except for those occasions when Trixie took a nap on the draining board. Its twelve years since I had to train a cat which side of the work top was theirs.

Until now. Pippa never had the opportunity to learn the rules of the work top and nor does she show any interest in learning them now. Trixie and Herself are gone and if anyone thinks I am anything like a deterrent - think again. The naughty girl is strolling up and down the work top for all the world as if the whole of it is her domain The only reason she notices the sink is make sure she doesn't fall in on her way to interrupt whatever it is I'm doing.

I didn't notice Pippa not learning the rules of the work top and I'm thinking I may have left teaching Pippa a little late.  Thing is cats have to be on the work top for meals, its easily cleaned and most importantly its out of the reach of greedy dogs. Pippa has a lesson to learn.

Well! Pippa aint learnt it yet and what's worse she shows absolutely no sign of even considering what is after all a minor adjustment, obviously I lack the claw power of both Herself and Trixie. 

SeaBiscuit

A small horse SeaBiscuit knocked around the horse racing circuit for a few years, he never amounted to much during those years but he did run in more races than most of the other apparently superior thoroughbred horses of that time.

There was nothing much to see SeaBiscuit wasn't a beautiful horse by any standard or yardstick and there was more than a bit of the sod you street kid about him. I chose the picture above because the look of SeaBiscuits ears, mouth and particularly his eyes show he's ready to push well known rider George Woolf out of the way If anyone did the messing around it would be SeaBiscuit.

What no one noticed until Howard his last owner saw it was while this ungainly, ugly, horse had all the looks and build of a donkey, he also had the heart, brain, stamina and temperament of his grandfather - the bad tempered, bad mannered, unbeatable and totally thoroughbred Man O' War The fastest, strongest and most belligerent horse of his or any other time except so it is said for his own grandfather a horse called Hastings.

Whatever it was it worked and the reason it worked is a knobbly, stubborn, bad tempered little horse with magic in his heart and gold in his ancestry

SeaBiscuit and a horse called Secretariat were descendants of Man 'O War. In Secretariat it was obvious from birth, his size, colouring and his imperious, aristocratic manner. Not so with SeaBiscuit he had no obvious attributes he was small, ungainly, and in light of his achievements obvious proof that appearances aren't everything. I do wonder if both Secretariat and SeaBiscuit may have inherited the spirit, heart, stamina and temperament of Man O War.

I don't study horses I don't know about horses but like all of us sometimes a family resemblance whilst not physically visible shines like a star when they move. Man O War parents were Fair Play and Mahubah and whatever 'gift' they gave him must still be in the family.

Sometimes the cynic who lives on my shoulder wonders if SeaBiscuits owner Charles S Howard, a very good salesman saw the need for something to boost the confidence of the American workers who had suffered so much during the depression and persuaded the establishment and Mr Riddle the owner of War Admiral, who was also the offspring of Man O' War, that maybe a David to beat the Goliath of the depression would give people confidence, and perhaps, maybe, just possibly a wee deal was done. War Admiral did lose so easily and so convincingly to SeaBiscuit..

None of us just get on our feet and recover from something that devastates us, saps our confidence and knocks us not just off our feet but off our balance. SeaBiscuit was the little man to the little people they had faith in him and he did not let them down He loved being the hero.

Update

I should add I have seen a You Tube clip that said Secretariat is maybe thought to have got his enlarged heart from his mothers side of the family. Out of the depths of my ignorance I believe it...But I keep thinking Secretariat, SeaBiscuit and War Admiral are direct descendants of  Man O' War, as are many other thoroughbred horses, but, hmm, but...Man O' War just happened to be a chestnut coloured horse with a star on his forehead...I do know, of course I do that we all including all horses inherit many and varied bits of our ancestors, colouring from this one, height from that one and so on, but even so...

I almost forgot to mention Secretariat wasn't the only horse called Big Red at home the name first belonged to Man O' War...

Huh! Did you know they did an autopsy on SeaBiscuit and discovered he had larger lungs than most other horses? He may, like Secretariat also have had a larger heart but that bit of the clip wasn't entirely clear so I can't say for sure. But, if had to choose the line of inheritance of speed, stamina and strength and temperament - I'd still choose Man O' War.

The Past

Is another country, or so they say, the older I get the more the past resembles a series of occasions, not even episodes, just quiet nondescript occasions where nothing much happened, people I remember with huge affection spoke and nothing much happened. It was always going to be that way.

Of course it never is, perhaps life really is no more than a series of occasions.

I remember staying up all night with Sam our old boxer/retriever cross. He had dislocated his  hip, the vet said he was too old for surgery and his hip might heal almost perfectly, so I lay beside him and waited for him to feel better.

I recall standing over someone waiting for the pills to melt for if I didn't watch closely the pills would be spat down the sink or the toilet and I couldn't risk that.

There was the time someone important came home. It took all day growing worried I went out to look and when I got home there he was.

So many occasions, the time I got up to find out what the noise was and stood at the bedroom window watching next doors washing fly off on its line. It was the London hurricane.

There are a million scenes of occasions, dots in space leading from one to another all that joins them on a line of their own is me.

The past is never gone good occasions sustain us through all times, bad occasions sadden and wound us anew on each stabbing, relentless occasion.

No life is pain free, curse free or regret free. If we can look at each occasion and say we did no harm we are fortunate indeed.

The child I was could have been better, one school report said 'works well when interested' Ah, too often I was not interested. The woman I became was not interested in a permanent relationship, my interest and total focus was on family. The older woman I am today has no regrets the girl and the younger woman marched as she chose. They did no harm.

Pippakin

Has regained much of her former equilibrium, she goes out but never for long. She reclaimed her chair which she hadn't bothered with since Ollie died and last night she slept on her cushion. I didn't buy it for her I bought it years ago for Tax, but Tax never took any interest in it and Pippa appropriated it. Last night she slept on it for the first time since Trixie died.

That's quite important when she came home Pippa lay on my bed to sleep, which she always liked anyway but not to stay on all the time. If she wasn't on my bed she would be under my desk on a cushion I put there for her. I do wonder she must have seen Trixie long before I found her. the shock of finding big, bold Trixie must have been huge.

I'm the one who doesn't like her to go out. I don't like the road I don't like that she the eldest is the only one who can leave the garden at will. The road is dangerous for small animals.

The good news is Tesco have restocked Cat Club so when I go to town I no longer need to drag tins of Cat Club back with me, the bad news is all three of my girls have gone off most tinned cat and dog food, currently they are demanding Felix fish cat food in sachets. Its expensive and I bet the bad girls would eat or pull to shreds a dead rat if they found one.

I don't feel better I even feel nervous calling Pippa in what if she has to run across the road to get home? What then...

I say to her "Stay in the garden Pippa" and although I know she does much of the time I also know she doesn't stay there all of the time.

Something has dug Trixie grave up at least three times, each time I've moved her and each time they've found her. I hope this time they leave her be.

How Wrong is it Possible to be?

Pretty much catastrophically.

She knows or thinks she does that many of them thought she was chasing some sort of fame or recognition and maybe there's not much evidence she wasn't. Except there was and all the local scum knew of it. She doesn't particularly like to remember it because even though it wasn't as bad as the oul fool said she does think it was bad enough.

Picture the scene, there she was living in a village where she was completely anonymous, oh, people knew her but not about her, not her history,  alright there was no exciting, daring or sexy history that's not the point. All anyone in the village knew was her name and the fact she had family who visited. To her it was pretty much perfect, just a face to say good morning to, she was happy.

One day in what she can only describe as an excess of compassion she invited the oul fool to stay, well most of his immediate family were dead, none of the younger generation bothered and she had bought his house and anyway what excuse did she have to ignore him? She lived alone, had a spare room so why not, what harm could it do? Too much although it wasn't noticeable at first.

A carrier bag containing his medication was stolen in London she suggested he go to the local doctor, across the road which he did, they very kindly gave him a prescription and off he went to the chemist next door to the doctors. He was very pleased, loved the doctors and the chemist, he talked about how nice they were.
 
Next he discovered, of course he did, the local pub and there he went and obviously got chatting, and equally obviously talker about her. Overnight, well in a couple of days, she was known to everyone. She went nuts.

Its a thing with her. She has never wanted to be known, never wanted to make new friends and never wanted a permanent partner. Discovering he had been gossiping about her, to the extent he became friends with the village trollop who sent her a gift of home grown tomatoes, and that is not an exaggeration, angered her beyond belief.

She can't remember if she kicked him out but she is very capable of it, her home, her privacy are that important she wouldn't have hesitated to have done so, she'd do it again.

Of course it blew over family rows usually do but that was the beginning of the end of her happiness in the village. Kinda puts a dent in all the she wants to be famous bollocks doesn't it.

Trixie 28/08/2017

My big, bold, beautiful Trixie died today. Killed by what looks to have been some brain dead Mick in a tractor. At least someone had the decency to place her body by the side of the road. Trixie unwillingly posing for a picture. I'm the one hiding behind her.

Trixie was twelve years old. Pippakin is her sister.

I can't do this.

In twelve years there has never been a time when Trixie didn't come home for meals. If she was home when meals were being prepared she would jump onto the work top to see exactly what and how much was going into her dish.

Whoever killed her took a beautiful, contented, happy life. May the murderer never know good health, happiness or good luck. May he know the pain and death of loved ones, that's if he loves anyone more than himself.

I don't want to know who he is.

Trixie loved to play and she could be a wee bit of a bully, lately she started to play a game she would sit behind a half open door and refuse to allow Maggie to go through. My beautiful Trixie is all cat and poor little Maggie a small dog is only about half her size.

You couldn't hear Trixie purr she was so quiet, but if you held her you could feel her happy purring. She would run to strangers, always happy for new adventure and meeting new people. My Trixie would follow me wherever I went it happened so often I had to make sure she was locked in before I went out of the garden.

Understand this I never write for sympathy, empathy or applause. I know who reads my blog. I write for me I don't care what other readers think of me, my dogs or Pippa and Trixie.

If there are civilized Irish people you won't find them outside Dublin and even there you'll have to look carefully.

One Irish murderer, Ireland is full of murderers, murdered Trixie, but what do you think the rest are saying? 'Just a cat' absolutely they are because they don't care about or for animals.

On Monday I prepared her meal and called her most unusually she didn't come. I put it in the fridge and throughout the morning I kept calling, finally I went out to look, dreading what I might find, and there she was left by the side of the road. I took her to what passes in Ireland for our home.

Today I emptied her dish into the rubbish bag.

My beautiful girl is gone.

All that's left are her clean dishes and my memories

My beautiful girl spent a lot of her time in the kitchen after all you never know what delicious tidbit might be about to stroll out of the door, particularly out of the fridge door, and anyway the kitchen window catches what passes for sunlight in Ireland and so the draining board is a good warm place to lurk.

My Trixie loved mayonnaise, cheese, butter and sometimes milk. She would watch each dish carefully to make sure no one got more than her. Food was her big weakness and there was never a time when she didn't have plenty. For her I cooked chicken again of course Jezzie, Maggie and Pippa loved it too but Trixie was the addict and the reason I went back to cooking chicken.

Trixie died on the 28th August 2017, Some evil bastard mowed her down as if her life meant nothing. Oh, well, maybe if you have someone who killed a person living on your street the murder of a cat is a small thing.

I came to Ireland with three cats and one dog In less than ten years two of the cats and the dog have died. To say Ireland has diminished me is putting it mildly.

Pippakin 

Is the only one left of the four I brought with me from England. Tax, Ollie and now Trixie all dead, all buried in what once was going to be the garden and is now a graveyard.

My poor Pippa, loves Ollie, she never seemed bothered by Tax or Trixie even though she and Trixie are sisters Ollie was obviously the one she loved and the one she bullied but this week has shown a difference.

Maybe Pippa is missing Trixie today Trixie's grave was pulled apart it would be very rare for Jezzie or Maggie to hear a strange animal in the garden and not create a huge fuss or to be in the garden unsupervised for long enough to pull the grave apart themselves.

Pippa is off her food, staying outside and refusing to join in anything including meals, but she doesn't seem to be ill, maybe she is lonely and missing the link with the past and our real home. I know how she feels...

Pippa went out yesterday morning (04/09/17) and has not returned. She has never done that before...Its dark outside on 05/09/17 and Pippa is not yet home.

Pippa is a strong, neutered cat she can survive outside but she has never stayed out for so long. Did she eat something that poisoned her? Is she lying somewhere in pain? Pippa is missing and I am lost.

Pippakin IS HOME!  This morning 06/09/17 I again walked down the road calling for her and up she came! She can be a talkative girl and she was telling me off all the way home! I'm so relieved. She is still not eating so I think she may have found a kind stranger or knowing her she may have been killing small creatures.

Not to worry! I have added chicken to my shopping list and even though we don't have Cats Club I have ordered packets of Felix fish cat food, which she does or did like. I'm so relieved!

Pippakin is STILL not eating, she hasn't been out all day and she hasn't eaten even though she usually likes trout, tuna and chicken and she is hungry.  I changed the time of the next delivery hopefully Pippa can hang on until then.

I wonder if these problems began with the advent of the beautiful ginger tom? Female cats are territorial and both Trixie and Pippa started going out more as soon as they saw him. Maybe stalking him and protecting their territory made Trixie careless of vehicles and maybe the loss of Trixie has given Pippa more to patrol and protect. We are not home Pippa is all I have left of home.

In the last two years Pippa and I have lost three of the corners of our world. I hadn't realised how much an animal can grieve. Its definitely not a quick sniff and forgotten it seems to be a weight Pippa carries. Now that she seems to have grown accustomed to the loss of Trixie she stays close to me, she is right behind me right now when I go to bed she will be on my shoulder.  If I have a hope left its that she dies before me. I hate the thought of her having to endure another blow.

Pippa is eating a bit, not as much as when Trixie was here but more than the last week or so. I went to Tesco, a relative was here and drove me there and back, and bought some Cats Club. Pippa is a bit better. Problem now is she won't go out. I have to put her outside and when I do she waits close by the door to get back in.

There is no doubt Pippa has had a dreadful shock.

Good News!

Pippa has reclaimed her chair.

This is Pippa's chair she didn't mind sharing it with Ollie and after he died she seemed to lose interest in it to the extent that Jezzie and Maggie took it, that has changed. Pippa is home and she has returned to the fusspot girl who would only, and grudgingly share her chair with Ollie.

I hope its a sign she has come to terms with her great losses

I made a mistake coming here. I should have sold this hovel and I would have if Irish property prices hadn't dropped through the floor, the ground and middle earth. No sooner had I arrived than Ireland had to admit its politicians, bankers, property developers and their own what's in it for me attitude had bankrupted the country.