Stress!

No, not about you go away. I don't know why but its become habit whenever something upsets me I rush to write it down almost as though writing it somehow either cleanses or allows me to wallow who knows perhaps its both.

Maybe because change is inevitable where there was closeness any change must be distance. All I know is something happened, almost a nothing, but it upset me and so here I am whining about it. You see what it is may in one sense appear unimportant to me but in reality its a manifestation of something much deeper confirmation of something I didn't want to see or admit to myself.

Its a kind of writing blind or more accurately reading blind but unlike so much that tears me up inside this is honestly nothing like that. Its a recognition and because its recognised its an ending.

Oh, alright! I know I'm full of anxiety, regret, anger, disbelief and impotence but I'm honest enough to know I can't go back to the way it was. In effect what that means is I won't see them I'm not even sure I still like them I do know its not their fault, but I'm me and instinctively where I don't trust I don't go.

Anyone looking at the last five years would see the truth of ignoring that instinctive lack of trust, the extension into others is perhaps natural may even be a perfectly normal part of aging but it doesn't feel like it. It hurts I don't think I'll see much of them when/if I get home.

A Shrine a Day

Is something I've never created or used. I used to have an altar I had two one in my bedroom and one in the garden. I stopped not because I didn't believe in them both are my creations they contain whatever I endowed. No, I stopped using them because I felt my space had been invaded I was no longer comfortable and since neither are essential to belief I stopped.

I used to create the circle I stopped that when I stopped creating the altars. In a way it has been no hardship an altar is not for the Gods or the deities its for us to allow us to focus. The Gods don't need it and whilst I agree that if you create a shrine to them in what you imagine is their image and they should happen to glance at it and see something they dislike or consider incomplete then there might be a small accident and who knows it might be them letting you know you need to get such homage right.

Its not about shrines or altars its about what you bring to them that can't be bought in a shop or created on a bench and you need to ask yourself if a shrine as big as a shoe box and crammed in a smallish room with so many other shrines is what you want to do to honour your Gods.

I'm no expert all I know is what I've read and what I believe and what I believe is that its what you give of yourself that counts not what you put on a stool or a sideboard.

You also need to stop worrying about what others think of what you do or how you do it! You're an expert in your field and a very good historian, time you became more exclusive. Be exclusive become the one they seek.

Having said all that you play with fire when you bring children or extravagant unworkable ideas into things. Where children are concerned I don't give a fuck who you are when you post a picture albeit a drawing of a child being buggered by a devil you go too far, and when you advise that going naked is best and more fun in a world where such behaviour in general public is likely to get the exhibitionist arrested you are possibly putting young, naive people at risk and that too is going too far.; .

I Cooked Chicken

Again. I did consider alternatives, everything from salmon to beef to giving up and going oriental for Christmas dinner. I couldn't bring myself to do it all my life I've had turkey for Christmas but I couldn't bring myself to go as far as turkey either.

A turkey is too big for one person, a crown would be OK but that would leave cats and dogs with no treat at Christmas dinner: we all have to have a special Christmas dinner. I decided on chicken because chickens are so much smaller and still  have the legs and wings that the cats and dogs eat and I don't, and by pure coincidence Herself loved chicken best and she will have been gone a full three sad months tomorrow.

So chicken it was but I have I admit it made a mistake. I should have given them their main meal first, that's what I should have done. I didn't do that, instead they've been wolfing chicken as fast as I can cut it. and now I know they won't eat their dinner not because they're not hungry but because a tin of proper cat and dog food can't and won't be compared to chicken, they'll be trying to look half starved all night.

I'm not sure if good news is being signaled or if its more threats but tis the season to be hopeful so I'm hoping.

Its That Time Again

Even Santa needs a little light.

When I was a child we used to chant:

Christmas is coming the geese are getting fat
Please put a penny in the old mans hat
If you haven't got a penny
A ha'penny will do
If you haven't got a ha'penny?
Then GOD BLESS YOU

To all those who believe I wish you a very merry Christmas

The Addict

My beautiful Jezzie is an addict! To support her disgusting habit she has taken to stealing from the coffee table when she thinks I'm not looking. I know its her she and I are the only ones who even like them.

Yesterday we ran out OMG the fuss! In the end I had to give in and get on to Tesco for fresh supplies and this morning they arrived: Ten bags of chocolate eclairs.

Jezzie is very protective of her stash she has taken up an aggressive stance beside the coffee table, you must remember the coffee table its the one Freddie made for Mum and Dad it really doesn't need her paws all over it.

We now have enough eclairs to, I hope, see me and the addict through until after Christmas when she is going cold turkey and I am going on a diet. it was a big mistake to buy them at all after Christmas we are not having sweets in the house.

Do you know she eats her meat until she sees me go into the living room then she follows me in, sits in front of me and points her chin at the eclairs its unmistakable.

Ho hum the other two are in the garden the eclairs are on the table Jezzie is watching the eclairs, I'm watching her...and the eclairs...Naughty girl!

If She Stops and Thinks About it 2

And what of her? That's the killer proof isn't it, they'd leave her in one of those tiny boxes, knowing the harm they've done, knowing she wouldn't leave her cats and dogs and knowing she hated the place and couldn't trust the people.

None of that would matter would it her well being didn't even figure. All debate has been totally narcissistic among a gang who appear to honestly believe they have the right to blacklist, censor, of course she knows she's censored, injure and insult at will.

Her health and welfare were and still are irrelevant to them all. She doesn't mind that its as it should be right up to the point where it becomes criminal, a physical threat and increases her isolation and then she has no choice but to take action.

For why all this began? Because a complete newbie to the internet became a nuisance and they believe they have the right to decide who can be a blogger or a commenter and who can't.

In pursuit of securing their poisonous aims some very serious crimes were and are being committed and no it would not be hard to prove, and just think of the damage to really important worthwhile causes covering every area including child abuse, wild life preservation, the environment, social reform and politics.

If She Stops to Think About it

She’s almost certain, because he and his friends knew the situation was becoming impossible, that they thought all he needed to do was have a quiet word with his mates on St V de P and Bobs your uncle she’d be safely, painlessly and above all cheaply dumped in one of their dreadful hovels in town.

Problem if not solved then locked and he would even get added kudos from the kind way he helped her the strange English woman into ‘good’ accommodation, and maybe in time the house could be bought at a considerable discount and he would have the whole of the old farm.

How perfect is that? Out of sight, out of mind, a nice profit and best of all she would still be imprisoned close enough for them to know what she was doing at all times.

He and that creature he married are so respectable the town would believe anything he said, well they might not but this is Ireland no one would be interested in the truth particularly if it came from an English accent.

And so we've had the endless sick mind games from the guilty, those who so want to believe they've covered their tracks that they almost do believe it regardless of the facts and common sense.

She sits in the cold, miserable house fit for nothing more than demolition and what warms her is knowing that its her decision, as soon as she’s ready the whole thing blows wide open she’s almost reached the stage of looking forward to it.

The thing about psychological games is its hard to know what the result will be or when you've gone too far, taking pictures, going to and invading her home was far too far. It hurt her emotionally, psychologically and physically and why would anyone be surprised that was after all the intention. So well done now suffer the if everything is agreed really rather less than painful consequences

You think she's gaining anything? Think on this: she must have spent about fifty years looking forward to retiring to Ireland...Thanks again... 

Blogging

I doubt I'll ever really stop although any blog named Pippakin and any of mine on other sites may well be discontinued. It depends, is all according, in the lap of the Gods, particularly mine. I'm very fragile I might without going into too great detail attempt to explain what such anxiety feels like. How many people worry that their cats and dogs will come home safe even from their own gardens?

I don't know, what I do know is that it aint over until its agreed and I aint agreed nuffin, which is not surprising because I aint been offered nuffin.

It occurred to me that to do something or in this case to stop doing things that others don't want me to do anyway is, well, to put it bluntly, surrender and that no matter how fragile I am is not going to happen

Know what will go - and why

Snobbery

Is mostly unconscious the stupid woman who said poor people with little to eat were hungry because they had forgotten or never learned how to cook didn't I'm sure say it with the intention of hurting anyone, let alone the millions of people who are either on minimum wage, disabled or just can't get a job in this squeaky clean, high tech, no real industry world in which we live.

Sure it was ignorant but it was unconscious the most sincere form of ignorance is of things which we've genuinely never experienced and so we fill our heads with 'must be' and comfort ourselves with the time honoured 'its their own fault' which is really what the, to use another old fashioned phrase, 'good woman' was really saying.

You see I don't think there is much doubt that she does see herself as a 'good woman', convinced she is or was doing her bit to help all the uneducated, unwashed masses. Its also highly unlikely that until she made headlines she had any idea that what she said was ignorant in every possible interpretation of the word, and ignorant she still is excepting she may well have learned that in future she would do well to hide her honest opinions from the media..

Is that better or worse? For me I would far rather know and if she is as hard of learning as she appears to be drag her around the local cheap shop by her hair and give her a much needed lesson in the real difference between the cost of cooking compared to buying off the shelf.

Enough of her she meant what she said and taught all us uneducated, terrible cooks an important lesson. I hope her husband gets a similar lesson at the next General Election. Oh, and I've chosen not to name her because although she is easily identifiable she is not by any means alone in her ignorance.