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. 

Always

He? courageously crawls out of his sick bed, presumably drags or wheels himself to his computer and there posts half a dozen or so utterly meaningless pictures.

He might force himself to heroically expend all his reserves of strength and consciousness typing as much as a whole paragraph telling us he has not been well.

And always he signs Namaste as though it conveys something mystical and magical...

Its been turning up, depending of course on his health...every month or so.

Few Things

I can think of few things more hurtful, heartbreaking than for someone, anyone to write a book, all the hundreds of pages and chapters of it, and have it declined by publishers, sometimes over and over again.

It doesn't matter what the story is or the subject, in each and every case a book is the outpouring of the author, published or not, bestseller or not is irrelevant. Someone put everything they had into their writing, their book! And then had to endure publishers refusal.

Thank goodness self publishing has grown to be very successful because I suspect the number of publishers who know what they're talking about is minus something.

I wish all, well most, writers luck in their efforts may they be successful and live happily ever after.

It says chapter thirty. I haven't read it so I don't have an opinion on good or bad and I don't know if it was published or if it was if it was a success. All I know is it has a feel in my mind at least of failure about it.

It seems to continue as this post is beginning to in a section from time to time I ask myself is it me, am I depressed and transferring my depression onto something completely removed from both me and depression, and does it matter.

Part of me thinks it should matter all who write alone for love of writing should matter because the world recognises only successful writers and authors and that matters. many writers confine their efforts to what they think, hope will be attractive to publishers, what that means is many books are clones of the last big hit, that means there is a lack of individuality, a lack of adventurism 

Flowery Poems

I don't write them I don't think I can. The idea of them intrigues me and I think I've tried to write such a poem once or twice. Eh, but my hearts not in it and my head is probably miles away.

I used to and from time to time do still enjoy writing, generally if I like the result I leave it alone, if I don't I'll play with it for hours. Some think that means I'm trying to correct punctuation or suchlike. As if! What in every case I actually do try to find is the rhythm. Its probably or almost certainly something each reader feels differently but its the difference in every case between success and failure.

Barbara Cartland wrote prolifically, well she had to she needed to finance her larger than life lifestyle, and she was utter, total crap. I read one book and it was enough. Even novels of historical romance need rhythm and if there was any rhythm in Barbara Cartland she kept it hidden from her books.

Georgette Heyer also wrote, not quite as prolifically but often, and I have read most if not all her books. She too wrote historical romances. The difference between Cartland and Heyer could be described as talent and rhythm, and a good sense of humour.

I'm not, don't even think it! comparing myself to either of them I'm saying that if you aint got rhythm in your words you aint got nuffin

It Seems

As if all my life I have avoided anything, everything I dislike and distrust, I don't know when I began I only know its been a part of me for as long as I can remember.

I don't obsessively clean, polish and sweep I equally obsessively won't touch anything or place I dislike. At work the hated task was always the last thing on my to do list and it could stay there days, weeks before I'd even look at it. At home, well, it never happened at home until I moved to Ireland but since a couple of years after my arrival it has been full on. Don't touch, don't clean, like the rest of the country let it rot around me.

I don't write flowery poems or reams of adventures there's actually not that much adventure in a bog and there are relatively few flowers particularly in my garden which is something else I stopped working on within a few years of moving here.

I can't see the point and I can't stand the feel. Almost the only things I do are feed cats, dogs and me. maybe its a breakdown but if it is the tendency was always there or perhaps the breakdown settles on the weakest point and strengthens it? I don't know and I don't care. I don't touch.

Its so Long

Since I cooked a roast dinner and I think its longer since I cooked cabbage (I'm in Ireland...) but today I did it and it is as they say like falling off a log How comes back to you as you peel and chop and shred.

Naturally I cooked chicken which I hasten to add is not for me the Chicken is for cats and dogs I'm having the vegetarian option. I had forgotten how much I like hot cabbage water I expect most people know what it tastes like but if you haven't tried it do its one of the best things about cabbage and when we were children we were told its good for us, so how can you go wrong.....

As far as I'm concerned its impossible to cook a roast dinner for one person and the good thing about that is I have plenty for bubble tomorrow and there is also plenty of chicken for cats and dogs.

Funny how a trip down memory lane improves your mood, provided its the right lane, and no I haven't forgotten Terry Pratchett I will return to the evil little runt in due course...

At First

I thought author and to some a demi God Terry Pratchett, a man whose work I had admired for years, couldn't possibly have been responsible. I like his work too much to easily believe that in real life he was just a nasty vindictive little squirt in dire need of a kick up the backside preferably before he shuffled off this mortal coil...

Good ole Terry was born in Beaconsfield said to be the richest town in England so I think its safe to say his relationship with the east end of London and specifically the cockney accent and phraseology was more 'borrowed' than born, of course he began his career as a journalist and that certainly should have warned everyone that a little light whoring on the back streets of authordom would not in anyway sense or form be beyond him.

I still find it hard to believe, more I find it incredible, add that to his totally arrogant false impression of me and its almost unbelievable. How could anyone supposedly clever and sympathetic to others be so wrong and so cowardly? Did he even expect I would be grateful? Of course he did I should be flattered to find myself alluded to in the ugliest most unflattering terms in his last book. I wish he were still alive I'd kill him.

The whole thing is a hideous criminal mess and I have had enough.

Public people like Terry Pratchett surrender some of their privacy its part of the price of fame, fans and fortune and is usually covered by carefully selected photo shoots and interviews when was the last time someone filmed Terry Pratchett while he was lisping incoherently or dribbling his dinner? Because that's what illegal filming does its nothing if it doesn't capture an indiscretion or an embarrassing moment. Protecting him from unfavourable publicity is why rich arrogant bastards who do Gods know what in private employ personal assistants and PR agencies.

Private individuals who have no desire to be famous and no money to finance PR spinners and tech experts are entitled to real, full privacy.  If someone famous has something to say derogatory or otherwise they should also have the courage to say it to the person concerned.

I said I loved his books, didn't hesitate, didn't say one, two or a dozen. I included all of them. Terry Pratchett did not live up to his own creations...He epitomizes the opposite of the socially caring equal society he invented.

Somewhere at the foot of every new book is a small paragraph declaring everything is fiction and does not relate to any living person. Its a fig leaf meant to allow a certain amount of licence.  Fucking hard luck when you are so arrogant and so consumed with dislike of your victim you effectively name them. What did he think she would be so flattered and so stupid she would do nothing?

Someone asked me, anonymously of course, if I had read any of the books he wrote in collaboration with others. I had not and still have not. Guess who is going to read those books now starting with the last one...

Write a review it said so I did...

I too have read all Terry Pratchett books and I find myself wondering how many people he abused in each of them. Is there a list somewhere? I'd like to see it.

Is it some kind of right authors or any old bloggers and journalists think they are entitled to? Whatever else I do I draw attention and you can't buy that you certainly can't lisp it through dementia.

I don't believe Terry Pratchett slavishly followed my every post, comment or tweet I think a 'fan' sent him the juiciest tidbits, possibly the same person who illegally filmed me and then equally illegally distributed the film

And, to add certainty to suspicion today 30/8/17 we are informed that in accordance with his 'wishes', Terry Pratchett several years into dementia was well enough to wish? Terry Pratchetts computers were destroyed obliterating any and all uncompleted books he'd started to write...And, sheer coincidence... his entire browsing history was also steamed naturally under a 1950s steam roller. I think 1950s was about the end of the steam roller era...

However I do feel fairly sure that if the evil pervert went anywhere online he left a trail, everyone does all he wrecked was his end and one day soon his for want of a better word, adventures will be found and fully broadcast

One other question bothers me a teensy bit: was Terry Pratchett straight? He couldn't write a husband and wife conversation. He couldn't write romance unless he stole from old films and books, and he was as vain as a page three model. Most odd. Most writers whatever their orientation can write romance they'd be unemployed if they couldn't.

However that's neither here nor there, what I care about is Terry Pratchett wrote about me which means he knew about me which means half written books were not the only things he wanted to remain hidden in his computer...

Which other author, poet or even lowest of the low journalist ordered that all his half finished writings be destroyed? As far as I can recall everyone of them want their writings preserved and permanently displayed in libraries and book shops.

Most if not all of his earlier Discworld books were built on metaphor after metaphor and colloquial phrase after colloquial phrase. No one resented it because the metaphors and phrases padded a good story and anyway almost every colloquial phrase was Cockney and who has ever cared about them, right? Thing about Cockney is you have to be, er, really up close and personal to get to know Cockney romantic phraseology...

Terry Pratchett couldn't do a Yorkshire accent. Its one of the reasons Raising Steam doesn't work as a book. The other reason of course is his continual abuse of someone he didn't know...

Terry Pratchett died on 12/03/2015 I first published this post on 13/08/2017 Today 30/08/2017 is the first time I've heard that Terry Pratchett asked that his computer/s including their browsing history be destroyed. No publicity? No coincidence? Someone is afraid and rightly so...

Terry Pratchett had something to hide and some of his criminal activity included watching illegal films.

28/12/17

I've mentioned this elsewhere before but it maybe more relevant here. I think some if not all of the criminal gang who took at least one illegal video of me maybe the kind of middle class, journalistic scum who believe everyone want's to be famous and I in particular 'borrowed' phrases from Terry Pratchetts books.

The ignorance of the Irish knows no depths. Terry Pratchett didn't invent cockney phrases he stole them from a world he never lived in but like all journalists thought he had the right to abuse, there are no new, original cockney sayings in any book written by Terry Pratchett he stole them all and whilst that in itself is not a crime assuming ownership is beyond arrogant. He didn't sue me or anyone for using cockney language - he'd have been laughed out of court if he'd tried

Some say and Terry Pratchett must have loved it and breathed a huge sigh of relief that the Discworld stories are based between New York and the East End of London. Not true. The location, style and all the phraseology are Cockney.

Pratchett couldn’t write without Cockney characters and language. His attempt, put it no higher, to copy Dickens was a total failure, and the reason is obvious. He couldn’t do period phraseology. Dodger is one of the worst, most tedious, incorrect books I’ve ever had to force myself to read. He lost the real East End and couldn’t recreate it.

As far as I know Pratchett wrote Dodger when he was bedeviled by dementia, it was no good asking any of his hangers on to help if they could write anything worth reading they’d have done that instead of hanging around a lisping, demented, vicious plagiarist.

I’ve not finished with Pratchett not by any manner or means.

TO BE CONTINUED - I MEAN THIS

When did Charity

Become a right, when did the weak, sick, disabled or just plain bone idle become entitled? I'm not trying (its not hard) to offend anyone I'm asking the question because it needs serious thought and a real answer.

As far as I can see the only people fully entitled to state or any aid are the tax payers, the contributors, those nondescript people who do nothing more offensive than work for decades and pay all their state and/or national taxes.

Tax evasion is a major problem so obviously anyone evading paying tax is not entitled to a damn thing, same applies to the so called 'legal' tax avoiders. Most of these creatures proclaim the right of people to receive benefits whilst simultaneously never contributing to the tax revenue required to give anyone anything.

Of course the same applies to any and all royalty they head as many charities as they can whilst never donating a thing. Nor do royals usually start a charity what they do is crawl on the back of the successful ones and proceed to smother it with establishment 'costs'.

Human Rights and charity are very close. I saw a video of a mother of FIFTEEN children demanding 'someone' pay her rent and feed, clothe and educate her kids. Amazing because it clearly hadn't occurred to this 'mother' that most people don't have FIFTEEN children because they can't afford to look after them.

And there is so much more, teachers and professors indoctrinating young children and college students into believing they are owed an education, a home and full healthcare, when in fact no one is, none of us are entitled to anything not a thing, and we need to recognise that because it seems to me the current generation of tax payers maybe the last one capable or willing to allow their money to be used to keep unemployed people and civil servants of whatever description in a luxury the people themselves can't afford.

We really need to look at the whole benefits and 'entitled' system its generosity is only possible by using the money other people worked hard for and using other peoples money to keep those who can't or won't work is the main reason for mass immigration. The effect of such 'generosity' is to endanger the European culture and the European race. Sometime soon someone is going to have to take a long hard look at what they've been doing and stop it.

And, before the usual suspects bleat about race, colour and religion. Its nothing to do with any of them, all of them are looking for the same thing and none are entitled to anything. 

Do Some of us

Regret not having children? I don't. Oh, I can see advantages, for a start I wouldn't have made some of the mistakes I've made. I would have made others perhaps more wounding mistakes for I would not have been a 'good' mother. Not by a long, long way.

Which is not to say I wouldn't have been a good mum in the accepted sense I would! Definitely and too much! I would have been such a good mother. Absolutely nothing even remotely risky would have been allowed near a child of mine. School would have been thoroughly vetted and closely watched and Gods help the teacher who upset a child of mine, and I mean that I was the sister who took a younger brother to nursery and stayed to make sure nothing happened to upset him, that's the protective tendency and it would have been taken to even greater extremes.

And then I would be too soft. No such thing as too sweet or too fattening and no such thing as 'eat your greens they're good for you', no do your homework or go to bed early you have to go to school tomorrow, my child would not have crossed the road alone. Truth is any poor kid I had would have been ruined before they were ten years old.

At least I recognised my own fallibility. I wouldn't have been a good mum. Not a chance. So, no I don't regret it not a bit. I would hate to look at an adult and know I'm responsible for all his or her faults and I would be I wouldn't have let anyone else get close.

I remember a girl I knew at junior school she was beautiful, blonde with hair her mum put in curls everyday. She was beautifully dressed and cared for. I can't be sure from this distance, we were not close friends but I think I envied her, her lovely hair and her beautiful clothes.

Some years later when presumably we were both working we met again and I was silently shocked. She looked older, hair unkempt, clothes less than clean and tidy. I don't know what if anything had gone wrong all I know is she was a beautiful child whose mum sent her to school looking perfect every day.

I've Been

Watching a couple of horses on you tube and two full length films.

First Secretariat the perfect horse

Second Seabiscuit a not so perfect horse, or so the experts believed.

What did they have in common and why did the film about Secretariat do less well at the box office than the film about Seabiscuit? Hmm, Secretariat born into horse racing aristocracy and looking it from his size, strength and demeanor. Owned and bred by a fine horse racing family.

Seabiscuit also born of horse racing aristocracy perhaps not as high up the chain as Secretariat but high enough to have value, so why didn't he? He was smaller but he's not the first horse or person to be bigger on the inside. Seabiscuit was the fabled David against Goliath and maybe people loved him because we're all David.

I never watch a horse race which is not to say I've not seen many I have, when I was a child the most TVs a family had was one and we all watched what our parents watched. Every Saturday and bank holiday my dad put an accumulator on at the bookies and so every Saturday and every bank holiday I saw horse races. I've seen Arkle, Red Rum, and so many others I can't remember

I don't think I ever saw Shergar race. By then I was an adult, working and definitely not available for any horse racing. My mum and dad watched him, Shergar won the only horse race they ever went to they had a grand day and mum boasted they stood right next to Shergar she was a big fan...

No, I never liked racing and I never failed to make my dislike very clear. It was my sister who took mum and dad to watch Shergar they both loved their day out and I guess I was indulgent about that particular Derby and then eighteen months later Shergar was kidnapped and murdered by the IRA...

I've watched the films about Seabiscuit and Secretariat. It seems to me Seabiscuit and Secretariat from either end of the tracks appealed right across all boundaries. One because he was so big, strong, powerful and confident and the other because he was not.

I love to watch video clips of both horses, I love the idea that we can all love something from either end of the spectrum, I love seeing both of them win, and I love the idea that there are people who love horses for their own sake as much as they love any other animal. My mum and dad did the murder of Shergar was a stunning shock to them

And, watching Secretariat and Seabiscuit reminds me of rainy Saturday afternoons and a bad tempered, ungracious girl...

Just Finished

watching a film, two hours long and I watched all of it, well between last night and this evening I watched all of it. I think I was mildly disbelieving and just as mildly contemptuous. It was meant to be a sweet everyone loves everyone movie and in a way it was but not the right way and not I think for the right reasons.

Maybe it can't be done, maybe its not possible to put a gay romance in a heterosexual or even rural setting, but if not why not?

If I try to change a famous fictional hero into a gay character how does it work, can it be done? Of course it can but I think it needs careful thought and it would actually be much better to create a new gay fictional hero, but if no one is creative enough to write a new superhero who among the old heroes is there?

Well, I think Batman could make the leap I always think of him as being halfway there already, particularly if I think in terms of the Batman of the old tv series.

People are not heroes and most of us like to feel comfortable in our surroundings, friends and love, and maybe for some people being in the company of a gay or straight love affair of the opposite is uncomfortable. I didn't used to think so, I spent many years in a very mixed environment but the thing is it wasn't a real life environment mostly it was the opposite and some gay men were attracted to it like moths around a bright light.

Maybe there is and is meant to be a difference between heterosexual and homosexual romantic groups the old saying like to like and Nan to Nancy rings loud. I'm not going to try to analyse reasons or suggest we should change, I'm not sure if we should change acceptance is one thing adoption is another. We should all accept and enjoy each others differences but no one can successfully adopt or change something so fundamental to each individual or slap the different groups together as though there is no difference there is a difference and for me trying to suggest there's not made for a very awkward movie.

This post is nothing to do with the LGBTQ XYZ movement they are the G string and leather bike boys end  of the market, and at the moment they are caught in a trap of their own making. Nothing they do is new, original or much fun anymore. One G string looks a lot like another and leather clad boot boys are the same there is no originality there, there's not even surprise.

No, its not about them its more about real life, real people do actually accept each other, maybe they'll never be best friends but they will be friendly and if needed supportive, what most of them may not be is automatically comfortable within each opposite group and it seems that is what some people not solely gay or straight are demanding. I don't think it can be done. I'm not sure it should be we are all individuals and what makes us different is what makes us unique  Our uniqueness is what we should cherish if people want to live their lives differently it is their right to do so, what they have no right to do is demand others support and comfort them. Live your way and let others live theirs  

I Have a Mild Aversion

To 06.00 or six am I have an aversion to it in any language and any time zone. For more years than I care to remember it was the time I got up, showered, dressed, had a cup of tea and went to work. 06.00 is not a time I awake by choice.

So I was a wee bit irritated to be awoken at the hated hour by the continual, woeful, very loud and very unusual yowling of Trixie. Trixie was not being polite, there was no hint of a subtle I'd like to go out, there was instead a non stop continuous yowl.

She woke us all. I was about to give in and let her out when I just happened to look out of the window - and there he was - bold as brass, completely unafraid and just mildly curious. Both dogs went nuts.

Pippa watched with great disdain from her side of the window ledge and Trixie yowled and headed for the door. I did not let her out.Nor did I succumb to the non stop furious barking of Jessie and Maggie. This was I thought definitely a case of discretion being the better part of valour.

The absolutely adorable and beautiful ginger, real ginger not that shabby yellow of the cats we so often see, sat on his side of the window ledge and stared at us. Evidently he was curious, not ferociously so, just having a gawk through the window as other neighbours have been known to do without getting their ears bitten and their eyes scratched out...

He, I've decided he is a he even if a very young and potentially foolhardy he, definitely a he, and he is welcome! I'd like to think he has been neutered but I really doubt it.

After a minute or two, he was in no rush...he got bored and jumping down wandered off into the nether reaches and weeds of what passes for my garden. I glared at the barking dogs, told Trixie and Pippa they could not go out and went back to bed. Smiling.

What Happened in London Last Night?

The fire in a 27 floors block of flats is said to have started at about 01.00. It burned all night I like many night owls watched in horrified fascination as flames engulfed the whole of the modern block of flats. If you look you can see rows of houses close enough to the burning building to have been in grave danger as the flames roared to the sky and bits of the badly damaged building fell to the ground.

Is the area safe now, all of it, how can it be when there is a huge, dangerous shell towering over the entire area?

I wanted to write this before reading the news of views and analysis A) because its really too soon to start analysing and B) because the horror of it is fixed in my mind and pushing their way forward are the horrible suspicions and questions.

I think the first questions many will be asking is how many are dead, how many are wounded and how many are in sheer paralyzing shock?

Then come the ugly questions:

1) Was it a terrorist attack

2) How long did it take the fire brigade to get there

3) Was it caused by cheap labour workmen

4) Was any delay in the actions of fire brigade caused by government cuts to emergency services

5) Has UK government welcome to millions of third world immigrants enabled the govt to lower emergency service funding and support to third world response

Serious questions and there are many more they must be answered quickly

I want to say and there is no way to say it properly my heart goes out to all those trapped in that appalling, horrifying tragedy.

And, may it not be Londons 9/11

Paris Climate Agreement

Has been flushed down the toilet, round the U bend and into the sewer of fraudulent, nay impossible dreams.

Earth in her wonderful and very mysterious way is, or at any rate appears to be changing her climate. Maybe she's bored, maybe she thinks those nice, temperate climates the people of western countries have used, loved and abused for so long need a good kicking, maybe she thinks the seas and oceans need to be refilled and maybe she thinks those puny, nasty, downright wasteful humans of everywhere need the good kicking, or maybe the grand old lady earth just wants to loosen her corsets and get comfortable again.

Its not the first time the earth has changed its happened several times that even we puny, insignificant humans know of, but it maybe the first time one of earths species actually dared to think they could, should and damn well would stop her or at least slow her down.

How dare we?

We don't even know if climate change can or should be stopped. All we know is we fear it and are determined to at least slow it down. Its also possible some western politicians think climate change can be made useful, sure with the right warnings, threats and eventually laws all humans can be made to obey the new laws which will undoubtedly be needed to save the earths climate.

We don't know enough about earth and we don't have the right to make decisions about her climate. If we were the caring, sharing, lovable humans we tell each other we are we would spend our time and money building and reinforcing sea walls. We would make sure everything we build is fully insulated and storm proof and like Noah we would make sure all endangered species were moved to safe areas.

What we would not do is try to stop the earth our planet from doing what it has to do, we don't know if or what catastrophe might befall us all if we managed to stop something as natural as climate change and none of us has the right to claim anything we do or stop doing will stop climate change or even slow it down.

And, naturally there's politics...

Of course because those nasty white people found. discovered and invented almost everything and use a lot of their own inventions all the time they are guilty of being successful, arrogant and most importantly - white, and because of their success, their arrogance and their lack of colour they must be punished! To them goes the burden of higher taxes, lost jobs and of course - the blame...

President Trump has committed the sin of not believing humans could or should interfere with climate change. He is of the opinion politicians are using climate change as a stick to beat successful countries, why he understandably asks should Americans pay tax for climate change when countries like China and India with huge populations and what can only be described as 19th century attitudes to health and safety at work pay no such tax? Why indeed...

If western politicians want to save the planet they should start with being honest about why they want to tax western countries more than others, and while they're on the subject why they allow millions of people of different religions, customs and cultures to move to western countries, and yes it is about climate change both mass immigration and climate change have been dreamed up by the same people the question none of them want to answer is why?

Arm Pits

Oddly enough have been forcing their way to my attention for some days maybe weeks so maybe its time to give them an airing. Or more realistically shed a little light on female body hair in what I've grown to think of as unreasonable places.

For most of our lives most European women don't have to worry much about body hair, there's some on legs, arms and even face but not much and all easily dealt with. Under arm hair is not a problem either most of us shave or dilapidate it off whenever the weather is hot enough for sleeveless tops or whenever we're going somewhere special.

I think if we're honest most of us get rid of underarm hair from late spring to mid autumn, unless of course we're in the early days of a relationship, and that's my point. Most of us don't shave underarms all the time or even all the year.

Course we're not supposed to say that we're all supposed to spend all our spare time in the bathroom titivating ourselves, well guess what? Most of us don't and the older we get the more this applies. Its not lazy or indifferent its not about how we feel its more about what we wear and how what we wear makes us feel. And if any man thinks women dress to please men they are kidding themselves we dress to please ourselves and possibly annoy someone else.

Which bring me to the reason many older women probably don't shave underarms as often as we once did. Upper arms sag, there's no hiding it and as far as I know no cosmetic surgery to disguise it our upper arm muscles just lose their spring and droop rather more obviously and with more wrinkles than bust or buttocks. So the days when we wore sleeveless anything grow very few and far between

Aging has unforeseen and unexpected side effects, arms sag, hair you never had suddenly appears on face, arms, legs, anywhere and while face, arms and legs are still highly visible and easily dealt with underarms are suddenly covered. To avoid shaving? No! Sleeves become more popular because of upper arm sag and perhaps an off shoot of this minor annoyance maybe to let underarm hair stay where it is for longer than we did when we were younger.

I don't hate underarm hair but it does distract attention from that outfit you spent a fortune on and very often underarm hair completely fails to match the colour of the hair on your head. It might if you didn't dye your hair but who's going to stop dying their hair or start dying their armpits? No one. And, anyway what difference would that make to the sagging upper arm problem?

So, all these silly young things droning on about underarm hair not only show their ignorance of the female they show their ignorance of the aging process   I don't think its rude to mention the subject and it doesn't embarrass me but it does say something about those who think we either should or more likely we shouldn't shave under our arms.

We should do whatever the hell we please and the older we get the more we should do it.

Manchester Ariana Grande Concert

In a big English city hundreds of young girls were allowed to go to a pop concert given by Ariana Grande. Young people would have driven their parents nuts to go and see her many parents would have taken them and either gone to the concert with them or have dropped them off and waited either outside or at home waiting for the call to go and collect them. 

Instead an appalling, disgusting tragedy struck, some terrorist murderer blew himself up and murdered twenty two people including the young people caring parents had allowed to go and have fun. How those parents feel is beyond guessing, every parent knows they have to let go, most do so gradually taking them to concerts, letting them go inside alone to enjoy a couple of hours of screaming, dancing and shouting freedom.

Now that innocent minor rite of passage may end. Concerts may become another no go area for anxious parents. Twenty two people died, many were injured and that's not cuts and bruises we're talking about, that's children who may have lost limbs, may never walk again, maybe scarred for life.

The UK is not an anti Islamic country, oh, there are people like me who complain of the danger Islam represents to women and children but we are mostly abused or ignored. The UK is a multicultural country, politicians never stop telling us how successful multiculturalism is and anyone who disagrees with them is called a racist and a bigot.

Who is going to heal the hearts and minds of young people, who is there to care enough to make sure people suspected of having terrorist associates and/or ambitions are dealt with in a manner severe enough to discourage others, who is going to shut down all extremist Mosques? It won't be government not left or right politicians have neither the honesty or the courage.

Because of politicians thousands of young girls have been sexually abused by immigrant men. The silence and indifference of the authorities was and is too wide spread for the instruction to ignore it to have come from the bottom it came from the top and now we will hear about politicians meeting to talk about, what? How to prevent the British people from becoming angry? Yes that's likely all British and EU politicians will discuss, minimize the danger of attack, maximize to the hilt the 'danger' of racist bigotry. And, by the way acts of murder by racists and bigots are very few and far between. 

The only real way to protect all the people in the UK is to teach everyone in the UK that UK law is paramount and all who break UK law will be dealt with in UK courts not Sharia courts. In that way the UK will at least ensure everyone knows the risks they run.

I've Had Better Days

But it all started so well! I felt fine, so fine I decided to go to town and do a wee bit of shopping. I told myself I wouldn't buy much, indeed I know full well I can't afford to buy much! But undaunted by dire financial straits I got ready, I hate my hair it has to go, and walked to town.

And, it was a lovely walk, not too hot, this is Ireland, but not too cold or breezy either. I want to be clear I enjoyed the walk to town and if I was a little puffed when I got there the last schlep is what the generous might call uphill.

I popped into the 'pound' shop not to get any shopping but to ask if I left my wonderful walking stick there about six weeks ago. I had not nor had I left it at Tesco so I'm very disappointed and upset to have to confess that I've lost the walking stick. I can't help thinking that if I had the stick what happened to today wouldn't have. Or at least not in the dreadful, upsetting and even embarrassing way it did.

But I'm losing track. I went to Tesco. I swear I'm incapable of going into a shop that sells cat and dog food without coming out with some and this time even though it wasn't cats club and wasn't in a tin I do think this time was the proverbial time too far.

I decided to walk home, sure there wasn't that much in the bags and on such a lovely day what could possibly go wrong? I could, that's what could go wrong.

The bags got heavier my feet ached and I think I became slightly light headed because I got as far as the end of town and literally had to stop. I felt sick, I felt dazed I felt I needed to sit down but I couldn't walk as far as the nearest bench which is no less than a hundred or so yards away.

I didn't know what to do. I really didn't. I just knew I would never make it home on foot. I called a taxi and I must say I'm so grateful to the taxi driver. I'm not sure I made a lot of sense but he knows me and when do I ever make a lot of sense?

At home I made a cup of tea  tried to get my breath back and act normal. It didn't work. In the end I lay on the bed and took the time it needed to recover.

I will never buy food in town again. It will have to be delivered I will never carry anything even slightly heavy again and the strange thing is that this incident so much less dangerous than the illness that saw me into hospital somehow felt more frightening and much more dangerous.

I would hate to be incapacitated or even worse! Die Alone on a road.

A Few Thoughts on UK General Election 8/06/17

Hmm On this one I am deeply suspicious and less than enthused Conservative (Tories), Labour and Liberal Democrats (LibDems) are dishonest and deeply committed to nothing more than hanging onto their own highly paid part time jobs.

That's about it really. I cant think of one good reason to vote for any of them If forced to choose I would choose either United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP) or a stand alone Independent. Under no circumstances vote for any party or person based on what that party or person says.

Look at their previous, check their expenses, check their voting record, then call the devil a fool and vote for the one who has the best chance of beating the establishment serfs.

There's a way to go, not as far as in an American presidential election which drags on for years, but a couple of months of hard sell and multiple lies are upon us. I guess if anything major changes like an obvious betrayal of Brexit voters I might return to this subject but honestly I don't believe the words of any politician particularly those of all three major party leaders, and that won't change.

Keep up I'm Trying

My hand at a conspiracy theory. For all I know its not new it may have been floating around the web since day one but its new (ish) to me so here goes.

Why are almost all western govt's supporting the Islamic invasion of Europe and other western countries, could it be some sort of plan to deprive western people aka Europeans of most of the rights, values & freedoms millions of Europeans died to achieve and protect?

How sudden is it? Not very some might say the onslaught began with 9/11 when every Saudi Arabian was allowed to leave America instead of being arrested and questioned about the possibility of their involvement in the atrocity. They might say USA and western govts submission to Saudi Arabia continued with the USA suppressing important parts of the report into the 9/11 attack. Who knows we do know Muslims were only prevented from building a mosque next to the World Trade Centre site by the outrage of the American people

Who would have paid for he mosque I haven't and am not going to check but Saudi Arabia has paid for the building of virtually every big mosque in the west and obviously its done so with the approval of western govt's.

Naturally after 9/11 the west fully agreed with the attack upon the Taliban in Afghanistan they harboured or did they Osama Bin Laden and to this day we don't know if Bin Laden who needed serious medical help on a regular basis has been killed or if his death has been as they say exaggerated.

What we know is the attack on Afghanistan was followed by attacks on Iraq, Libya and now Syria. It has been said Saddam Hussein was a dictator & a tyrant but that has been said of the leader of every country the west has defeated. Of course it was said about Gaddafi  of Libya which is where it goes a bit runny. Far from praising the west most Libyans say Gaddafi was a very good leader who treated Libyans well and knew how to control extremists.

Syria is an expansion of the Libyan lie. Most Syrian people say Assad is a good leader. He is not just the son of the previous leader. Assad won the Syrian leadership in an election supervised and approved by western election authorities. Its said there is no rebellion in Syria there are American paid mercenaries ISIS and Alqaeda

All of the 'wars' in the middle east are supported by Saudi Arabia and other oil rich middle eastern states and all of the wars in the middle east have created millions of refugees none of which have been taken in by Saudi Arabia or the other oil rich middle eastern states.

Instead Europe has been invaded by more than a million refugees, although refugee has become an elastic word meaning anyone who decides to move from anywhere and claim refugee status in a western country.

All the while Saudi Arabia and others have been bombing Sudan and Yemen killing thousands and creating more refugees who run to Europe and the west.

In 2015 the UN made Saudi Arabia one of the most inhuman countries in the world chair of its Human Rights Committee and to add insult to injury the UN has made Saudi Arabia the chair of the Womens Rights Commission. Women in Saudi Arabia have no rights indeed they must have a male guardian.

In order for Saudi Arabia to gain chairmanship or even admittance onto the boards of UN Human Rights and UN Womens Rights at least some western govts MUST HAVE APPROVED the proposals.

And all the while 'refugees' flood into Europe and the west, and western people are told they must not object because objection to Muslim mass invasion is Islamophobic and racist,

And all the while the few remaining Christians in the middle east are being killed, women and children are being raped, slavery is a growing trade and western govt's do nothing and say less. Its been said as many as 85% of the 'refugees' into Europe are military age men.

What happened, what made such an obvious invasion acceptable to EU states lead by Germany?

Who among the western leaders supported Saudi Arabian elevation to the UN Human Rights and Womens Rights Councils?

Most importantly Why, what are we not being told?

Update

One thing we do know and which I should have mentioned is both Iraq and Libya are oil rich states and it could be argued the big oil companies want full control and profits from the recovery and sale of oil, added to that there are rumours there might be gas and/or oil in Syria and even if not some say the big oil companies want to run oil pipes through Syria.

Something else we all know is there's no way the USA and western countries destroyed several middle eastern countries killing hundreds of thousands of people and evicting others from their own countries just because they didn't like the countries leaders...

I come back to Saudi Arabia its regional power is irrelevant to western countries but not to Iran and what were once other Shia Muslim countries.

Its odd that Saudi Arabia the most regressive, inhuman country in the Muslim world has no greater enemy than Iran and for some reason unknown to western people Iran is the one Muslim country western govt's seem to hate.

Sorry if this is a bit garbled its me and I'm not going to start faffing about with it, well not unless I think of something to add....

What Can I Tell You

I don’t like grey. I don’t know why but I don’t like grey Its one of those things I don’t hate grey I just don’t like it

There are as many shades of grey as there are of every other colour and I don’t like grey In theory its fine I’m right there with those who declare grey is a good useful colour

Grey goes with almost everything, grey suits are common as mud its probably true to say more men wear grey suits than any other colour, hmmph they’re hiding something I look upon them with suspicion and disdain.

Its not as though I like flash colours and clothes I really don’t I think most would describe the way I dress as conservative, nothing too bright, quite a lot of tweed which to be fair I hardly ever wear anymore, well that’s what happens when you hardly ever go out.

I’ve noticed there is an increasing amount of grey in home decoration I don’t mind it a tin of paint is cheap enough and what’s wrong with magnolia?

Grey has its uses it probably goes better with dandruff than black, navy or brown, but I don’t like grey.

You see even the spelling is interchangeable its either grey or gray depending largely upon whether you’re in the USA or the UK and who the hell cares .

Nope, I just don’t like grey