A round peg in a round hole....Eventually!

It seems a long time ago now, when a women I knew and will always have a massive soft spot for walked into my life and changed it forever. I had just come back from Bosnia and really did not know what to do with myself and she was just about out of a rather strange relationship and looking for something she didnt really know what.

I have no idea really why I fell in love with her, because in actual fact she really could and still can be the most annoying stubborn bugger I ever met, but there was just something about her. A vulnerability that was matched by a concrete wall a mile high one had to climb in order to help her and usually totally against her will. Indeed, many was the kicking I would get in later years for trying. But above all that she also had a streak of cleverness and obvious ability that just needed a chance and direction. I guess linked to the fact that she has a heart as big as a bucket it was obvious that her life would revolve in helping others.

Her first outing in that direction came when we saw a job vacancy for area manager for the Prince of Wales business Trust. She was totally too young for the post. But a trip to a charity shop, purchase of the most disgusting granny frock you ever saw and the tucking of a Daily Telegraph under her arm sorted that. She blew the selection committee away probably because she has pretty good legs and got the job. Then to everyone's amazement, but mine, she did very well indeed. Going from area manager of Thames Valley to HQ in London in charge of the European Women's Business initiative. In this capacity she traveled Europe meeting some heavy weights along the way. Amsterdam, Spain, Brussels to name a few she ticked off the list of place to be seen in and became the euro business girl and was set to fly high.

Then not for the first time she decided to stand up for the oppressed against the mighty and paid the price. Politics in those days were a bit out of her league and the irony was that the girl she stood up for kept her job and Lisa did not.

However, she was a fast learner and wouldnt make the same mistake twice. So, on to new pastures and the look for something else to try her skills and attributes took her to a charity so small it only had four staff. The Child Brain Injury Trust. It was based in a cabin behind the Churchill Hospital in Oxford and was really not much more than a helpline and a lot of dead flies.

How it survive those early days would make a very good film. Because not only did Lisa take it from that Cabin to the national charity it is today, but she also helped a man (me) get over a stroke and brought up the off spring. One of whom inevitably it seems will soon be a special needs Nurse. Lisa in the time it was my honor to live with her certainly grew and I was lucky enough to help a bit here and there, but she without doubt did it through share hard graft and application all by herself. Indeed the Child Brain Injury Trust is really Lisa's charity and due to Lisa's efforts in direction and policy.

And tonight I was proud as hell when her charity was selected to be on Children in Need on BBC1. Not a bad effort for someone who once had a board rubber thrown at her by the Religious Instruction Teacher for being a bloody nightmare. That Teacher is now in the Lords and a good friend to Lisa and supports her charity actually, probably from shock and wishing to know what she gets up to next! Yep, not bad for a Hayes Skin head.

My own memories I have many. But my favorite was her love affair with certain cars (she is a petrol head) an MG Metro we called Motsey Go Faster that she loved to boogy around in. She backed it into a lorry and smashed the back end one day and her classic excuse I will always remember, "the lorry wasnt there when I parked it".

Also, a tatty MG Midget Arkely called Tonka. Watching her wrap herself in a fur coat, scarf, blanket, gloves and french woolen Beret before cranking up this mini tank that sounded like a buzz saw and blasting off on her trips will always stick in my memory. I think she got a speeding ticket in every car she ever owned. Including one in a very old Austin 1100 I didnt think could go that fast. Naturally she tried to talk the Chief Constable out of it.

Along with that though I have etched on my heart those days when she would come home dispirited sometimes totally depressed and dog tired.. Really achingly dog tired from the miles she pounded getting the charity to grow. The sight of her kicking off her shoes and dumping her bags will always pull at the old heart strings and stay in my memory forever. Bless lisilou you done it dux.  I could say more.. but lets leave it there. Well done Lisa. Nice one and I am so very proud of you. What you going to do next......Astronaut?

                                                       

Para Bloody Sunday

Northern Ireland and "the troubles" continues to simmer and occasionally boil over. Today a fellow veteran of the troubles, a 66 year old former Para, was arrested for alleged offences in the bloody sunday affair. I can make no serious comment about that sad day but I can remember oh to vividly my first tour of the province back in 1974.

The troubles were at their height with car bombs blowing the public and soldiers to bits daily, snipers a constant danger and parts of the province became near no go areas. I landed one very wet and foggy morning at Aldergrove, got off the Hercules transport and as I walked across the tarmac to the airport terminal there was a dull boom across the loch. "welcome to Ireland" I thought. I will not bore the reader with more than a snap shot of those years in Ireland. Suffice it to say, the Bogside was cold and clammy, Derry a bloody mess and Armagh really was bandit country. I cannot convey the fear in the pit of ones stomach that one gets when one thinks a sniper has you in his sights and the tingling in the spine one gets  when one is approaching and first spots a bag that could hold the bomb that could tear you apart. Its very sobering!

The constant feeling of unreality of Northern Ireland locked in its own strange sectarian battle was beyond me at the time and was a battle only they understood. We tried to keep them apart and in so doing became the enemy.. Bitter, ironic and deadly dangerous one never really knew who was the enemy, they all looked alike. Above all else however, was the constant gut wrenching stress of the place. You just never knew what the mad sods would do next and of course the victims could change to the threat at the flick of a switch. We had a kind of joke that said if you were a boyo or player (terrorist) you could be shot at ten and the tea shirt and song would be out by eleven.

That is not to say we ever thought of them as second rate. They, in the main, believed in their cause, were committed and very dangerous foes that it was better to respect. They could also be incredibly cruel. I well remember a crowd catching two army lads and stoning them to death. The hate was that bad in places you could feel it.

On our side I think the girls of the Womens Royal Army Corps never got the recognition they deserved. We would go out tooled up with rifle and they would simply be in a skirt and soft hat. They were young, as we all were, and when you see an 20 year old girl soldier dash out in her skirt and grab a child off the street in a gun battle you understand the meaning of courage. God bless em all!

Yes Northern Ireland.. I grew up there. I still cannot stand the sound of a helicopter or the smell of jet fuel without being transported back to a 20 year old lad dashing across and diving in the door of a puma helicopter rifle in hand and wondering what the hell was going to happen next. Skimming across the countryside of Armagh with the door open at 100 miles an hour and low enough to scatter the sheep.

Diving out of the window when a bomb is discovered under the bar table only to find out its some idiots gym kit. The utter waste of it all when you see a beautiful girl of 18 with two legs blown off at the knees. For what a unified Ireland. All these things were common enough back then and it cost 4000 lives to come to some sort of rational status quo.

What do I really think of a Para being arrested today for what happened on that Bloody Sunday.. Let him go. He has had over forty years now to worry about what he did and had done to him. Surely thats quits. Enough now.. let it go.

Life with Bob

Once upon a time there was a women who had a wee Working Cocker Spaniel called Bob. Why Bob? Because he had his tail cut off and the bit left really used to bob a lot. Anyway, she had a kid when Bob was a wee pup and decided that the two of them were too much for her and Bob would have to go. My partner at the time was not too happy about the idea, but me and the kids were very much in favor and one look at the wee shaver was enough to bring him home and he has been with me ever since. So, doggyfied did he make us that we now have two wee Cocker spaniels one called bob and the other called Bella. Well, I say we have and I should say we had.. My wife and I very sadly broke up and I got Bob and she got Bella. It was a shame to part them, but hey ho thats life. Since then Bob has been my only family and great company he is to. He follows me everywhere like my shadow and I will not go anywhere without him.  Indeed, there are not many days I have been away from him since he was a pup and thats 11 years or more ago. Yes he is 11, but still runs around like a mad thing and do not get him near water... or he is just straight in. Where we live now is next to the sea and has a few good sized lakes. This is pure bliss to Bob and my poor wee car stinks with all the dyke water the wee chap brings in after a good couple of lengths. As I write he is sat between my legs with the fan heater toasting his backside and he is steaming gently.

He has one or two habits which are interesting:
1. He will spit out dog meal biscuit to get to the pedigree chum underneath... So, I always put the pedigree chum on top now.
2. It has to be fresh water in his bowl or he barks.
3. Drinks water out of the basin if you put your hand under the tap to help it cross the gap.
3. Howls when I sing.. Probably a critique of my singing.
4. Pees on people I dont like.
5. Barks at black people
6. Can remember where he lost a ball and go back for days till he finds it.
7. Growls when he is on my bed at night and in the morning likes a cuddle and a silly song from me.
8. Will not go down certain roads in the dark if their are Ghosts down there.
9. Can find his way back to the car in blanket fog and when I dont know where the hell we are.
10. Loves a Hungarian girl down the gun club name Elle.
11. Farts, then sniffs, looks disgusted, looks at me and wonders off, like I did it!
12. He always gets half my lunch.
13. Loves Spaghetti
14. Hates baths.
15. Adores cars and loves to bark as we drive through puddles with his head out of the window.
16. His ears smell lovely.

But above all things Bob is my friend and has helped me through the worst time of my life and continues to do so. He is there for me and me for him, he never judges and listens to all my woes. He shares the hard times and the good, he never moans and only ever sits on my head if he has tummy ache and then the deal is for me to rub it better.

I once broke my achilles tendon and had to sleep on the floor downstairs. Poor Bob got fox mange and wanted to pull all his fur out... I ended up with fox mange to and him between my legs every  night. I would sit there and stroke him to sleep.. Its called bonding. I would do anything for that dog. Because, I really do love him. He is my only true friend. Long may it stay so.

Be nice to dogs readers.. there is no such thing as a bad one.. Just bad people. They are our closest friend and have been for thousands of years. Trust a dog and he will trust you. Thats far more than you usually get from another person. It really is. A dog will never let you down.

Lest we Forget

Today is armistices day or Remembrance Sunday and usually as a former serviceman I dust off my medals, go stand in front of the war memorial somewhere and think of my Grandfather who died nearly a hundred years ago in a night time trench raid on the Western Front. He was shot in the stomach in no mans land and died two days later in a field hospital. My Father can only remember meeting him once and sitting on his knee while his father sang to him in a khaki uniform. 

I took Zoe to see his grave in France one year and she sang him a song bless her heart. I was a little younger when my Father took me to visit him and I left him some badges and talked to him for a bit. I remember when Zoe and I went back to see him nearly 50 years later I could not help myself and looked to see if the badges were still there. They were not of course. 

I did not go to the memorial day today to give respects in the usual way. I thought it was getting all a bit much for some reason. What with people saying such tripe as "it should be the law to wear a poppy"  bloody fools. That was the reason we fought the wars, so you could make your own mind up what to do and not be told by a bunch of Fascists. I dont know how this arseholes get air time. 

Anyway,  I just wanted a bit of privacy and will go on the 11th and pay respects at a little village memorial in North Coates. It is a very small village and from the first war has over 27 names on it.. Seven sets of brothers are included in the names.. Can you imagine the impact on a village of 400 that loosing 27 men has and the effect of loosing both your sons has on seven families. 

But that is not the end of the story for North Coates was a airfield in the second world war and was very active on anti shipping strikes in the North Sea. Buried in the church yard are around 30 aircrew from all over the commonwealth who were wounded and died after landing back at the airfield in shot up aircraft. These men are lucky in that they have graves, the casualty figures of Coastal Command aircrew was very high and of course due to the nature of their battles mostly the dead crashed into the sea, where they remain. 

There are also 4 German aircrew buried in North Coates with no distinction as to where they are buried. As always the Commonwealth War Graves Commission treat them with the same respect as our own war dead. After all they died in the service of their country and deserve to be respected. So, North Coates knows a thing or two about the effects of war and yet very few people ever stop to look as they drive through and so it seems the right place for this old warrior to stand and stare quietly and respectfully and also thankfully be ignored. 

In Flanders fields the poppy's grow

Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Weekly review 7th Nov 2015

It has been an interesting week on planet earth..Once again terrorists have won a victory between them and the security forces. As the Irish once said "you (meaning the British) have to get it right all the time, we only have to get lucky once!". In Egypt this seems to have been the case and I await to see with interest what will be the Russian response.

Here in UK there seems to be a slight shifting of opinion concerning these endless child abuse cases from the 1970s. One in particular against Sir Cliff Richards has people wondering at what point trial by media, thanks to constant Police leaks, and the actual law that someone is innocent until proved guilty in a court of law with a jury of his peers has precedence. It remains to be seen what will happen should charges be dropped for insufficient evidence and what could possibly make amends for the terrible strain such accusations must cause.

I think it long overdue that the law looks again at due process pertinent to the releasing of identity of anyone not charged with an offence and only assisting in inquiries. Particularly when it is a case such as this. The damage to reputations can be beyond repair. I am thinking of Ted Heath and Leon Britten both of whom have suffered in this way and now are dead and unable to defend themselves. Leon Britten in particular suffered badly and in his final months of life when the Police leaked information concerning their inquiries into alleged sexual offences. Not only did those allegations fall flat and not proceed but the Police held off telling Leon Britten or his wife until after he had died. The Police need to sort this out and be held accountable for such appalling behavior. It should be included in the Judges rules to the police.

I never cease to be amazed at follk who say that only the people who have something to hide should fear having someone stick their nose into your private affairs. How many thousands have died to protect the freedom of people to have just such a private life. The new charter to snoop going through the houses of Parliament now are one such violation of our freedom. Churchill in the war resisted identity cards for just such a reason and they were withdrawn as soon as hostilities were over. Because as he said "it is not for a the British Public to tell the Authorities who they are and what they are doing. It is for the authorities to find out if they have a valid reason". We must be mad to just roll over and say sure help yourself to my email.. I have nothing to hide. Of course you do have something to hide, you have your life and anything about you. That information should be and used to be PRIVATE and it should remain up to you who you tell. We bang on about companies selling our data and the have a law to protect personal information held on record and yet now we give the state cart blanch to put our phones and computers under 24/7 blanket watch.. Churchill would be spinning in his grave along with all those others who laid down their lives for our right to view our homes as our castle and our privacy as sacred.

Grand designs channel four

I was watching this load of tosh the other evening mainly because there was nothing remotely interesting on and it was slightly better than Autumn Watch on BBC twice. Autumn watch is like Summer Watch, which comes after Spring Watch and soon we will be watching Winter Watch. Basically, they are all the same and if you wish you can duplicate the program simply by training a camera at your garden shed, painting it with Creosote and watching it dry.. You may wish to have a hanging basket adorn the door for summer watch and slowly kill off the flowers and chuck some leaves over the place for autumn watch.. You get the idea. Its very cheap TV and you can put the feed onto your PC in case you wish to catch up on whats happening to you shed at any particular time of year, or when you are on holiday.

Grand Designs is by far the more interesting program and is about couples with far too much cash who wish to go on TV and make a statement about how incredibly stupid they are and can get over basket case houses, change of use or new build structures. Mainly the plot is about a plot some idiot brought, spent years trying to get planning permission to turn lets say a water tower into a windmill with a five bed underground garage with a hot tub in each sail. This takes a decade or two and ends with the owners premature death through stress and poverty. I always howl at the presenters summary. Usually goes something like this:

"Well, Beatrix and Bamber Trembling-Mousetrousers have really given it their all in making this former public convenience and de-lousing station into a grand visage worthy of Royal patronage once more and I for one would be only too delighted to spend some time in and on it.

Its portcullis and grand balcony over looking the municipal baths steam pump room, I think, is to die for and above anything you would find in the coastal region of say Bridlington or further north. 

True, Bamber and Beatrix have spent their entire life savings and the sale of one kidney to pay for the court case against English Heritage over the removal of the 2000 year old listed grade 2 cesspit discovered when excavating the wash basins, But Im sure you will agree with me that once removed the back filling of the swamp although particularly onerous managed to get them back on that ten year plan and really paid off once the outbreak of cholera was under control. 

And......erm...... yes while the project sadly caused the break up of their marriage, the taking into care of their five children and a total loss of function in Beatrix's left side, it has not effected their sense of humor now that the property has been put up for sale at half the building price and temporary accommodation had been found for them. 

Nor has it daunted their willingness to settle out of court now that Bamber is slowly recovering from the attempt on his life by his estranged wife. 

BUT at the end of the day and when all said and done........It may have been a life changing challenge and many thought it dubious to take it on..... I have to say...... I think it works!

You just know about some people from an early age!

I once had responsibility for a young Teletubby by then name of Zoewinky. She was a rather interesting life form that lived with me at the time in a far off land at the end of the hallway. She had a delightful giggle, lovely peachy bum and big brown eyes... and still has.. As with all Teletubbys she had a thing about tubby custard, toast and although she would like to deny it cheese!  Frequently we would go foraging in the hills around teletubby land and create a world of mystery that only the very young and those about to have a stroke can understand. I remember the correct dress for these adventures was wellie boots, dungarees and teletubby hat. In the bag were Teletubby supplies of cheese and branston pickle sandwiches and marmite fingers, hulla hoops and of course that staple of all Teletubbys beaners.

We had no money and so everything had to be part of the adventure. Mother was Marbear and had a car called Motzi-Go-Faster and it was in MGF that Zoewinky had a tinkle while being held out of the window in a traffic jam on the M25. Zoewinky only ever cried twice.. Once when she stuck her fingers in a lamp holder to see what electricity felt like "made my eye urt" she smokingly reported later. and once when she danced in a big puddle and sank! Anything else like a trip to hospital for extreme horribleitus and the night of the leaking legs was taken in its stride.. Gutsy gal and still is. Never moans when she is ill, her mar makes up for that. Man flu has nothing on Marbear flu, which as everybody knows is far worse than Ebola.

Zoewinky's only weakness is needles and watching her pass out having a flu jab is one of my favorite memories... I had to practically carry her back to the car.. Bless.

I was thinking of Zoewinky today as I traveled back over the wolds to my house and upon negotiating a bend a tribe of stupid pheasants decided to ambush my car. My mind shot back to 17 years before and a similar situation in the back lanes of Oxfordshire when a pheasant dived into the headlight i had just replaced on my car.. I saw it jump out and knew there was no point in swerving, as the bird thudded into the light a little voice next to me said "Wanker". It was a special Teletubby word much used at the time by Zoewinky and Stevebear.

On another occasion I was in a cue at Tesco's and in front of me was this idiot going on and on about his coupons to a girl on the till who looked pale and going into shock with boredom. I looked at Zoewinky in the fold down part of the shopping cart in front of me and a message must have passed between our eyes for she said in a strong voice for one so small,  "Wanker". "Correct", I said.

Those were hard years for a lot of reasons. Years of Nuclear Stew and Brain Clot Pudding, Clothes from the charity shop and making everything part of a unique world that was special to us.

Zoewinky if your reading this. Thanks for being there, you really were a gift at times. You will never know how much you helped me put things back into perspective.  One day Ill tell you all about it. Till then hugs and kisses Zozbear and enjoy yourself. xxx