if you've got your hands full I'll hold that grudge for you......

well maybe i won't, truth is I'm not very good at holding things (I think the only thing I hold well is secrets).

You know how it is with grudges, when you first get them they are all hot and steamy, a veritable hotpot of fresh, wholesome ingredients. You can't always identify all the ingredients and, truth be told, it's not always possible to say what meat is but you WANT it and you anticipate enjoying it.

Oh dear, I seem to be drifting off into food heaven.

So, grudges. There have been a number of times when people have badly hurt me, things like false lovers, false friends, bad neighbours and bad employers. At the time I spent a great deal of time plotting my revenge (well I am a scorpio) and I do have information which could severely hurt some of these people.
But today I find myself thinking 'what the hell' trust Karma and take control of life because none of these people matter.Whoops, I've dropped another grudge!

Actually, I only wrote this because I said good morning to a neigbour as I left the house for work and her grunt was so reluctant and full of ill grace that I laughed all the way to the bus stop.

Now, about that hotpot...........

The Good, the Bad and the ......'you didn't!'...........did you?

Last Saturday I, along with my family, attended a charity ceilidh which was the culmination of my youngest brothers fundraising for 5 charities close to his heart. The event was to present cheques to the charities for the money raised when he completed the Marathon des Sables.


Anyway, it was a good night and more money was raised, people had fun and the odd face from the past popped up....ah, yes, the faces from the past.
When i arrived I was surprised to see that the barmaid was an ex girlfriend of mine but these things happen, Leeds is a big city but we have been bouncing around it for a quarter of a century since we parted ways and chance encounters happen. Moments later I look across the room and there is another of my ex's........ I now start looking around for hidden cameras and t.v etc. two in one night? this is getting weird. I was just in the middle of confiding in my son when who should I spot across the not very crowded room but ex number 3!

Friends told me, during the evening that ex's #4 and #5 were originally attending but had been unable to make it :o)

I was pleased to see one but fairly horrified to see one of the others for reasons only a few of my close long term friends will understand.
Because there is a possibility that one of the ladies mentioned could read this I wish to clarify that the title of this blog item refers to my state of mind and not to personal attributes.

A dry run - starring the man with no brain

Here is a tragic tale which reflects life in Britain in the 21st century and the falling level of ability and intelligence in staff at our supermarkets.

Last weekend we celebrated my daughters 19th birthday and, she decided she would have a barbecue in the garden. With this in mind she went to our local supermarket, a branch of Morrisons. Because there was a lot of shopping she was accompanied by her boyfriend (aged 19) and her sister and cousin (both 17). As they began to place cases of beer in their trolley they were approached by the security guard who told them that they could not purchase alcohol and must take it out of the trolley. Both my daughter and her boyfriend showed proof of their age but were told that they could be buying alcohol for the under age people with them. To save argument my daughter asked if it would be ok if her dad came down and bought the beer and was told that this would be fine. I arrived and we began to re-load the trolley watched by the security man who then decided to tell me that I would not, in fact, be able to buy the booze. He began to speak to my daughter's boyfriend in a confrontative and belittling manner and I asked him to stop, explaining that to refer to an adult male as 'boy' was not good customer relations. A manager approached and explained that he couldn't serve me as I was associated with my daughter who might have been buying alcohol for under age drinkers. I explained that I was indeed buying alcohol for my daughter as it was her 19th birthday and that I was quite prepared to admit to being associated with all my children, 3 of whom are currently 'under age'
We left having told them that we would shop elsewhere. As we left we were told that two other people had just been refused service because they had been seen talking to people who looked under 18.


A supermarket has the right to refuse to serve anyone but they should also have the right to employ people with brains and should provide adequate training regarding retail law. A shop can be prosecuted for selling alcohol to someone under 18 and to this end many challenge anyone who looks under 25. If I buy alcohol on behalf of someone under 18 I  can be prosecuted not  the supermarket.  Further to this, if I buy alcohol I can legally allow my 17 year old daughter or niece to drink within my property.
Morrisons supermarket wants to take control where they have none and where they may well end up having fewer customers

Forget me errrrrrr thingy

I've never been good with my memory but just lately it seems worse and I'm acutely aware that I get midway through saying something and then realise I've forgotten a key point which is a bit embarrassing. My conversation is full of errrrs and thingies and awkward moments and it must seem so insulting when I can never remember someone's name.

I'm sure there was a reason for me bringing this up but it seems to have eluded me but it was something about the value of memories and how, as a person who lives in the past, I hate the idea of forgetting. I would like to record as much of my memory and my thoughts and feelings but sadly I suffer from terminal laziness and anyway, whenever I make a decision to do something about it I forget to get started.

Thought for the day: errrrrrr, hold on, it's on the tip of my tongue

rare friends

Today, being the first Monday of May, was the May bank holiday and so I headed off to check out the May day celebrations. Where I live we have a pleasant enough day with a small fairground, dancing (traditional and modern) and displays of country craft etc. Amongst the stalls this year was one from a local farm promoting and selling their meat products, I tasted some samples and they were rather splendid but reading the info and ingredients raised some questions which led to me musing deeply on and off throughout the day.
'Made from our own rare breed pigs'  ok, does this taste better\different and why, if the poor pigs are already rare, are we eating them? Is this what happened to the dodo? did some entrepreneur see a gap in the game market and fill it? did this mystery business guru increase the price as the breed got rarer and retire on the fabulous price he\she got for the last of breed? We may never know.
'All our animals are hand reared' This conjured up visions of orphan lambs and children's pets, of petting zoos and lifelong friendship. I love my friends but I wouldn't eat most of them.
The labels also had a 'killed on' date to ensure freshness so all in all the only bit of information missing was the name of my sausage\burger and perhaps it's star sign and favourite flower

Precious precipitates

I was going to entitle this entry golden shower but I'm not one to tout undeserved hits..................

The last 24 hours have been a time of golden moments both large and small and for this I am indeed grateful.
Yesterday evening I attended my PTA meeting in a local hostelry (as the token male) and spent several pleasant hours in great company. We ended the night with an enforced redesign of the decor in the pub because we truly love Jimmy, the landlord, and want him to achieve dizzying heights of success.He even paid us in free drinks and chips.
Today I had my first proper sleep in for absolutely ages and when i did get up I found I had received an absolutely wonderful message on Helium complimenting one of my poems and asking permission to read it out at a festival, yay, international recognition at last!
It has been a lovely warm day today and I have managed to hang around the house and garden without getting bogged down with chores and stuff (well not too much) before going out for a meal this evening.

All little things but good and things that don't often come my way so I am grateful and chilled : )

a rather hopeless affliction

I have recently isolated and identified a highly viral and, thus far, incurable disease which has swept through my immediate family with devastating and far reaching results.

In common with most of the population the members of my family endure periods of intense misery and discomfort. These feelings invariably occur around the middle of the month, just before I get paid, and seem to indicate that they dislike having no money.

I was confident that we, as a family, could learn to cope with this bi-polar condition but sadly there has been a development. It appears that there is a second condition and that although it is low level it is a constant condition.
Most members of the family hate having (or at least hate me having) any money. Whenever money finds it's way into my pocket it has to be disposed of as quickly as possible.
I am continuing to study this condition in the hope that a cure or at least some relief can be found but would welcome advice and accounts of other experiences (but mainly donations)

Burn the witch (or something like that)

There have been times when I've sailed pretty close to the edge regarding my behaviour both on and of the net and I've certainly always had a mischievous and sometimes flirtatious side so I fully expected that one day I would find myself in trouble. What i didn't expect was to find myself in trouble when I wasn't really that close to the line but this is what happened to me last weekend.
Those of you who frequent facebook will be aware of a new feature which allows anyone to post a question and multiple choice answers (you can also leave it open for people to suggest new answers). I decided to throw a few questions out and amongst these was 'Would you pose nude?' with various choices from no, never to yes, where do you want me? At it's heart it was a serious question and allowed people to say they would pose nude i the name of art, for love or for money. I also put out a question playing on an old comedy catchphrase, This question asked, Are you free? and went on to allow people to say yes, no or reasonably priced THIS IS CALLED A JOKE.

I sent my questions to a few friends at random including a small group of 'friends' and most of them answered and seemed to enter into the spirit then one of these friends received the questions (admittedly very soon after 'friending' me and, obviously without following the link, decided that I was asking her if she was free and also asking her to get naked for me. She posted a dire warning to her friends and I duly received nasty threats from  some guy who fancied himself a defender of the weak and helpless. Dutifully ignoring the misguided he-man I attempted to explain to the wronged lady and also apologised if my questions had given the wrong impression and another friend pitched in with a character reference but she had already unfriended me. Ok, end of unfortunate story I thought but no, most of her friends then proceeded to unfriend me too (including one who I have been friends with for a good few years) even though they had all answered my questions and knew that I wasn't perving after them. People are so strange!
On reflection what I find sad is that we live in a time where people are so ready to leap to the assumption that someone's motives are dishonourable and that there are people who are so very judgemental.
It's not the loss of approx six friends that bothers me although I will miss some of them it's more sadness at what they lose when they put on their blinkers and shoot from the hip.

ten minutes of my life

Dad, carry the laundry up stairs
Dad, come down here, I need to show you something
Dad, bring Jack's medicine up
Dad, get me a clean towel form up stairs

at leaat I'm getting some exercise

I like poetry!

I do, I really do but it took me a lot of courage to say so because as soon as I say that I like it people expect me to be sort of knowledgeable and I'm not.
I can't quote poets, i haven't got a clue about poetic form, I can't discuss it in an academic manner.

When i say I like poetry I mean I like how it feels, what it does to me (and sometimes for me) I can read or hear a piece and feel it so much and I don't care whether it's true to form or written in the poets 'striped cheetah' period, whether it's 'famous' or whether it's someones only ever attempt (and yes, I do think that everyone has poetry within them).

I like writing poetry as well, sometimes I'm silly, or sad, sometimes I'm awesome or bad but it really doesn't matter because it's my poetry, my life, my feelings and as a sort of human being I do have many facets.
Whenever someone shows me a poem that they have written I remember that it is an extension of themselves and \I am privileged to be allowed that glimpse

slap me with a rancid fish and call me a fool

I'm not a happy bunny at the moment because my job, which i love, is under threat.
Now it may not be a massive threat but I'm not a massively tough person.
I have been working on the mobile library for almost exactly three years and have been on a series of temp contracts which have got shorter and shorter. Whenever I have expressed my concern i have been re-assured that, when the council sorts out it's current reviews and housekeeping my contract would be made permanent but for the present they couldn't create or renew ANY permanent contracts.
Fool that I am it never clicked that, in a recent reorganisation they had done exactly that!
So.......last Friday we had a meeting and were asked to talk about any issues we might have and i mentioned temp contracts on behalf of myself and two others. Senior manager tells us that the time is approaching when out jobs will be made permanent (big smiles) and that when they are we can apply for them (big smiles disappear).
I spend the rest of the day feeling very down.
Now most people don't like what is happening and lots of people have said to me 'don't worry, you have the experience etc you will get the job' and yes, that SHOULD be the case and I should be supremely unfazed but let's just examine the recent history regarding my post.
The first time i applied I didn't get the job, it was given to someone who was unable\unwilling to take up the post due to the nature of his criminal history.
The time before the post was given to someone who didn't have a licence to drive the library vans

so why am i afraid to trust the system?

doing something different

I suppose there is a message there for me when I walk into my local chinese takeaway and my order is written before I manage to open my mouth. Yes, I'm getting predictable, boring, stuck in a rut perhaps I need to do something about it...........I have plans lol

One person who made sure she wasn't boring this week was Sally Bercow, the wife of the speaker of the house of commons who did a bit of a photo shoot and gave an interview this week. Pictured by the window of their apartment wrapped in a sheet she admitted that she loved the idea of having sex under big ben and that power was an aphrodisiac.
being married to one of the most powerful men in Britain she (or he) is very lucky because she must be constantly horny.
It seems that she is required to apologise for her indiscretion but I'm not really sure what she is apologising for; is it that she admits to having sex with her husband rather than random strangers, or that she likes being around power, perhaps it's that she is proud of her body (quite justifiably in my opinion) or that she has a sense of humour.......
I want it on record that I don't require an apology. If she were an elected minister or public servant I would be voting for her because it seems to me she might be the only honest person inside the palace of Westminster

don't sit here

One of the blessings (and curses) of modern technology is the speed with which information travels. Occasionally I will see a status update or tweet from someone along the lines of 'fat smelly guy approaching, hope he doesn't sit next to me'
or 'weirdo sat next to me trying to talk to me, help!' These sort of messages are invariably from youngish females.
So now I wonder, when I get on a crowded bus, is she frantically texting that she hopes I don't sit near her?; is she dissing me to her friends?.

It's not only females who have these thoughts though, I know I do. There are certain people on my morning bus ride who I pray won't sit next to me (and one or two I hope will) Usually it's a decision made on size or odour, I'm not a massive person but the bus seats aren't over generous and I hate being squashed.
It's interesting to watch the body language though, how people shuffle either across a seat or squash into the side to make the vacancy either appealing or virtually non-existent. The old guy ,spread legs pose takes up loads of room even if the user looks like they have a serious hydrocele or ill fitting pants. Bags are great for taking space and once or twice I have either sat on someones bag or politely asked them to move it.

pulled up short

(and that isn't a reference to my impressive stature)

I had the undeniable pleasure of chatting with a old (as in long term) and dear friend today,the kind of friend who is on the same wavelength and who I could probably tell my deep, dark, dirty secrets to (if I had any).It made me stop and think and did several things to me
1. It made me incredibly happy
2. It made me incredibly guilty (for losing contact)
3. It made me happy to be alive
4. It inspired me (but to do what I'm not yet sure)

Real friends are forever and I'm blessed with the ones I have those I've met and those I've yet to meet.