We are all selfish, some more than others. I know I am. However, I know that living with Mrs AWB keeps it in check: well, some of the time. I have to do things that on my own I wouldn't consider.
Mrs AWB and I have talked about how a relationship can affect that selfish tendency we all have. We've seen it in those closest to us and note how different they are when with a partner.
When you share a home with someone you love you are forced into a tolerance and consideration that does not come naturally. I'm not talking about living with your kids either. They are a part of you, they have something of you in them so your love for them is bound to be a little more selfish. You are loving a little of yourself when you think about it.
A partner is a different kettle of fish. They are not related. There is nothing of you within them other than any emotional investment you have made.
Such love is based on faith and so taking that step and sharing a home with them involves a willingness to tolerate someone else's foibles and feelings that can be quite daunting. It involves sacrifice; an unselfish thing.
I know that if I didn't live with Mrs AWB my selfishness would flourish and become a habit. Being with her forces me to think outside of myself, to consider someone else's needs.........and not just for a short while but continually.
Now I know a singleton reading this will probably think..............pompous twat............but hey, I'm only recounting an opinion based on my observations............and knowledge of myself and those I know.
People these days seem to stay single longer. There are more households with single people living in them.
Is that a symptom of the modern world of 'me'?
........and I'll be the first to admit that my 'Selfish Gene' is quite a strong one.
Thursday, 24 February 2011
A Holiday
I like planning for these. It's that anticipation thing again. However, I find I'm starting to develop my ideas for holidays.
Whenever I listen to people talking about them I tend to switch off. It often seems to become competitive with those taking part trying to compete with the 'I've been where you haven't' stakes in one upmanship. Lately I've got sick of hearing the word, 'Magaluf'. A bit like listening to people talking about cars; well, men anyway.
Most of these holiday destinations entail somewhere hot, a beach, a nice hotel and lazing around under palm trees on that beach or in the pool. Been there, done that and yes, it's OK but palm trees, pools and sun are the same wherever you go and to be honest, if I'm sitting in a nice spot with a good book it might as well be home.
And then there is the travelling. Mrs AWB has come to hate it. Twelve hours or so at either end of the holiday take up a fair old chunk. And the faffing about to get back can undo a lot of the good that the break was supposed to do.
We are back to staying in the UK. I know, the weather can be unpredictable but neither of us are sun worshippers and even when the weather is iffy there is generally something you can find to do.
The one thing you can do more easily with holidaying at home is to add bits on without sending the cost sky high.
We are off to South Wales this summer. The Gower peninsular. We've never been down there and the idea of some coastal walking appealed; if the weather is bad there are alternatives. On the way we fancied having a ride up Mt Snowdon. So, my job today is to find a nice B&B near the mountain for the night before the main holiday starts.
The beauty of that is that by the time we are wending our way from North to South Wales we will have wound down and feel as though we have been on a holiday already.
We might even do something similar on the way back.
We are quite happy to swap our passports for raincoats.
I think it will be a while before we get back on a plane.....................although Barcelona was nice..........and so was...........
Whenever I listen to people talking about them I tend to switch off. It often seems to become competitive with those taking part trying to compete with the 'I've been where you haven't' stakes in one upmanship. Lately I've got sick of hearing the word, 'Magaluf'. A bit like listening to people talking about cars; well, men anyway.
Most of these holiday destinations entail somewhere hot, a beach, a nice hotel and lazing around under palm trees on that beach or in the pool. Been there, done that and yes, it's OK but palm trees, pools and sun are the same wherever you go and to be honest, if I'm sitting in a nice spot with a good book it might as well be home.
And then there is the travelling. Mrs AWB has come to hate it. Twelve hours or so at either end of the holiday take up a fair old chunk. And the faffing about to get back can undo a lot of the good that the break was supposed to do.
We are back to staying in the UK. I know, the weather can be unpredictable but neither of us are sun worshippers and even when the weather is iffy there is generally something you can find to do.
The one thing you can do more easily with holidaying at home is to add bits on without sending the cost sky high.
We are off to South Wales this summer. The Gower peninsular. We've never been down there and the idea of some coastal walking appealed; if the weather is bad there are alternatives. On the way we fancied having a ride up Mt Snowdon. So, my job today is to find a nice B&B near the mountain for the night before the main holiday starts.
The beauty of that is that by the time we are wending our way from North to South Wales we will have wound down and feel as though we have been on a holiday already.
We might even do something similar on the way back.
We are quite happy to swap our passports for raincoats.
I think it will be a while before we get back on a plane.....................although Barcelona was nice..........and so was...........
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Deceptive changes
Even though we see Granddaughter several times a week the changes in her sometimes take us by surprise. She came for tea, she's just gone. I haven't seen her since Saturday. Less than a week but long enough to detect any change.
She's growing. No longer a little girl. She's a girl and a bonny one. She'll be tall too. And we both noticed a little more reserve. It was partly down to the DS or whatever it was she was playing but that move towards her own independent individuality was pronounced today.
It was lovely too for she still had time for us and moved, talked with a grace I haven't seen before. She was enthralled by her game but it didn't turn her into a monster. Easy going, she moved from her game to us without any effort. I wonder if she'll be like that at thirteen?
I sound like a man in love don't I. Well, in a way I suppose there is a parallel. Thing is, it's often those people who have that reserve and presence, charisma if you like, who attract love. We want to know more about them and if they're attractive both physically and personally then that provides that stimulus for love and all that entails.
I find watching her growing up absolutely fascinating.
Today I saw the adult in her and I liked what I saw.
We'll just have to cope with the teenage 'In Betweener' years in the meantime.
She's growing. No longer a little girl. She's a girl and a bonny one. She'll be tall too. And we both noticed a little more reserve. It was partly down to the DS or whatever it was she was playing but that move towards her own independent individuality was pronounced today.
It was lovely too for she still had time for us and moved, talked with a grace I haven't seen before. She was enthralled by her game but it didn't turn her into a monster. Easy going, she moved from her game to us without any effort. I wonder if she'll be like that at thirteen?
I sound like a man in love don't I. Well, in a way I suppose there is a parallel. Thing is, it's often those people who have that reserve and presence, charisma if you like, who attract love. We want to know more about them and if they're attractive both physically and personally then that provides that stimulus for love and all that entails.
I find watching her growing up absolutely fascinating.
Today I saw the adult in her and I liked what I saw.
We'll just have to cope with the teenage 'In Betweener' years in the meantime.
Salads with a kick
I can remember salads when I was a child. Limp lettuce with slices of cucumber and segments of tomato. Occasionally they were pepped up a little with cress and you might get slices of boiled egg or ham. If someone had mentioned 'dressing a salad' I would have wondered what on earth they were on about.
Now a salad can be as exciting as any cooked meal. However, I tend to avoid them in the cooler weather and still see them, even with all the fancy vinaigrettes, as a little predictable.
Lately I've been turning east.
I made a couple last night. Mrs AWB was ecstatic.
Carrot Salad;
Half a dozen carrots
An inch of ginger
A red chilli; I always deseed mine.
A bunch of coriander
Grate all of this. I have a good processor.............a Magimix, cough..........I got it off ebay!
To 'dress' it you need the juice of a lemon and some lemon zest. Add some olive oil and some toasted flaked almonds.
Cucumber Salad;
A cucumber, peeled into long ribbons with the central column of seeds discarded.
An inch of ginger; grated.
A finely chopped red chilli (The recipe said a half. I used a whole one)
The juice of one lime
Teaspoon of sesame oil
Tablespoon of soy sauce.
A small bunch off coriander; chopped.
I also made a noodle dish I've described a few posts ago here (the cashews are toasted with the honey) and Mrs AWB pan fried some salmon. It didn't need anything added given the flavours accompanying it.
It was glorious.
Italian today. Risotto with some garlicky chicken dish. I'll mull over the details with a glass, or more, of wine. Mrs AWB has requested a cabbage risotto I made once. Might sound unprepossessing but it was nice. Granddaughter is coming and she loves Italian.
Ah, cooking. I lose myself in it.
Now a salad can be as exciting as any cooked meal. However, I tend to avoid them in the cooler weather and still see them, even with all the fancy vinaigrettes, as a little predictable.
Lately I've been turning east.
I made a couple last night. Mrs AWB was ecstatic.
Carrot Salad;
Half a dozen carrots
An inch of ginger
A red chilli; I always deseed mine.
A bunch of coriander
Grate all of this. I have a good processor.............a Magimix, cough..........I got it off ebay!
To 'dress' it you need the juice of a lemon and some lemon zest. Add some olive oil and some toasted flaked almonds.
Cucumber Salad;
A cucumber, peeled into long ribbons with the central column of seeds discarded.
An inch of ginger; grated.
A finely chopped red chilli (The recipe said a half. I used a whole one)
The juice of one lime
Teaspoon of sesame oil
Tablespoon of soy sauce.
A small bunch off coriander; chopped.
I also made a noodle dish I've described a few posts ago here (the cashews are toasted with the honey) and Mrs AWB pan fried some salmon. It didn't need anything added given the flavours accompanying it.
It was glorious.
Italian today. Risotto with some garlicky chicken dish. I'll mull over the details with a glass, or more, of wine. Mrs AWB has requested a cabbage risotto I made once. Might sound unprepossessing but it was nice. Granddaughter is coming and she loves Italian.
Ah, cooking. I lose myself in it.
Empathy
I used to think of myself as being empathetic. I based this on my ability to pick up vibes and avoid trouble at home and then being able to sell quite easily when I went into the insurance game. I could, and still can, pick up on moods and react to the way people respond to me. I've learnt to adapt to the other person in the room and, owing to my upbringing, will do almost anything to avoid trouble.
Is that empathy?
Well, maybe in part. I think it's possibly more to do with sensitivity. You need that sensitivity but to be truly empathetic involves some understanding of the other person, along with compassion and a conscience. I have the latter two most of the time. The understanding is where I struggle sometimes. That's where many of us who imagine ourselves to be empathetic get it wrong; we know the other person is upset but don't know why.
Now I do know that I am sensitive. The trouble with sensitivity is is that it tends to revolve around the self and when you are feeling vulnerable sensitivity towards others goes out of the window taking empathy with it.
And that's where emails are particularly poor when it comes to empathy. You cannot 'sense' anything because the other body with all the language emanating from that is not there. You can get too self-involved.
All you have is words in the ether and your own sensitivity and imagination...............and both can go into overdrive without the restraining influence of the other person's presence.
It's why I try to avoid giving any real opinion via email; knowing how dangerous that can be.
My worst arguments have been via emails. The kind of rows that lead to permanent splits.
Two come to mind. One with a friend who went into overdrive in some criticism of a decision I had made. I tried to explain but eventually blew up and cut things off. This was five or six years ago and we haven't spoken since. Other friends fell out with the same person shortly afterwards.
The decision I had made? See what you think. I was part of a group of six who played Wargames. Yes, battles with toy soldiers. One of us had a bespoke room built at the back of his garage and we would all meet there most weeks to have a raucous game. It was great.
When the kids left home I saw our largest spare bedroom as an opportunity and tentatively approached Mrs AWB to see if I could use it. We had two other spares so I was hopeful and she agreed.
The whole group was excited at having another venue. The trouble was it was going to be in the house and I was concerned about the noise. I had got the room on the understanding that we wouldn't 'take over' and make the kind of noise she knew we were capable of.
I decided to set a limit of four people. A bit awkward but workable given that all of us weren't available all the time. We still had the 'Garage Venue' when all six wanted a game and I saw mine as a kind of extra place.
This one member of the group accused me of being selfish in not having all six over and got insulting over it no matter how I tried to explain that I had a wife to consider. She'd been generous as it was.
He wasn't married and has never been in a long term relationship. He is also very sensitive.
The whole thing entailed emails from him that got nastier and nastier and eventually I gave up. Some of the others in the group gave up on the guy as well.
What a pity. Looking back I think he got the blinkers on and just could not see anything other than his own feelings. No empathy at all. It wouldn't have happened face to face.
Only recently I have heard that he has admitted he may have gone too far...............years after the thing.
The latest row has been of a similar nature. Blinkers on, someone threw all sorts of criticisms at me and when I tried to explain appeared to ignore them. Couldn't see anything other than their own hurt. Again, I eventually blew up and went in with all guns blazing. You can only take so much flak.
Again, that wouldn't have happened face to face. I don't think so anyway.
Both those people were sensitive and face to face, very nice. The latter saw themselves as being empathetic too. Well, I'd agree. But not via email. Oh dear no.
It's why I try to avoid any negative feedback about anything via the medium. Being sensitive I need to see the face, to sense those vibes in order to be able to handle it. If only those others had recognised that.
Empathy does involve sensitivity. But that on its own is not enough as I've tried to illustrate through the email rows. Being able to react to the other person's mood is a vital part of the equation.
And then there is understanding, compassion and your conscience too. The empathy you can feel towards those you don't know; the New Zealand earthquake victims. Complicated.
I make an effort at being empathetic. I try to understand people but don't always succeed. The one thing I don't do is assume I am empathetic any more. I think if you do that you will get it wrong and just allow your own sensitivities to take over and run riot.
On a final note I took a little test. I think it sums me up.
Here is the result in blue;
You are definitely empathic a lot of the time. You may not always get it right, but you're pretty good at telling what someone's feeling. You make an effort whenever possible. You don't necessarily want others to know how you're feeling yourself though. You're the kind of person who cares a lot about those around you, and don't necessarily have to know someone to worry about them.
Is that empathy?
Well, maybe in part. I think it's possibly more to do with sensitivity. You need that sensitivity but to be truly empathetic involves some understanding of the other person, along with compassion and a conscience. I have the latter two most of the time. The understanding is where I struggle sometimes. That's where many of us who imagine ourselves to be empathetic get it wrong; we know the other person is upset but don't know why.
Now I do know that I am sensitive. The trouble with sensitivity is is that it tends to revolve around the self and when you are feeling vulnerable sensitivity towards others goes out of the window taking empathy with it.
And that's where emails are particularly poor when it comes to empathy. You cannot 'sense' anything because the other body with all the language emanating from that is not there. You can get too self-involved.
All you have is words in the ether and your own sensitivity and imagination...............and both can go into overdrive without the restraining influence of the other person's presence.
It's why I try to avoid giving any real opinion via email; knowing how dangerous that can be.
My worst arguments have been via emails. The kind of rows that lead to permanent splits.
Two come to mind. One with a friend who went into overdrive in some criticism of a decision I had made. I tried to explain but eventually blew up and cut things off. This was five or six years ago and we haven't spoken since. Other friends fell out with the same person shortly afterwards.
The decision I had made? See what you think. I was part of a group of six who played Wargames. Yes, battles with toy soldiers. One of us had a bespoke room built at the back of his garage and we would all meet there most weeks to have a raucous game. It was great.
When the kids left home I saw our largest spare bedroom as an opportunity and tentatively approached Mrs AWB to see if I could use it. We had two other spares so I was hopeful and she agreed.
The whole group was excited at having another venue. The trouble was it was going to be in the house and I was concerned about the noise. I had got the room on the understanding that we wouldn't 'take over' and make the kind of noise she knew we were capable of.
I decided to set a limit of four people. A bit awkward but workable given that all of us weren't available all the time. We still had the 'Garage Venue' when all six wanted a game and I saw mine as a kind of extra place.
This one member of the group accused me of being selfish in not having all six over and got insulting over it no matter how I tried to explain that I had a wife to consider. She'd been generous as it was.
He wasn't married and has never been in a long term relationship. He is also very sensitive.
The whole thing entailed emails from him that got nastier and nastier and eventually I gave up. Some of the others in the group gave up on the guy as well.
What a pity. Looking back I think he got the blinkers on and just could not see anything other than his own feelings. No empathy at all. It wouldn't have happened face to face.
Only recently I have heard that he has admitted he may have gone too far...............years after the thing.
The latest row has been of a similar nature. Blinkers on, someone threw all sorts of criticisms at me and when I tried to explain appeared to ignore them. Couldn't see anything other than their own hurt. Again, I eventually blew up and went in with all guns blazing. You can only take so much flak.
Again, that wouldn't have happened face to face. I don't think so anyway.
Both those people were sensitive and face to face, very nice. The latter saw themselves as being empathetic too. Well, I'd agree. But not via email. Oh dear no.
It's why I try to avoid any negative feedback about anything via the medium. Being sensitive I need to see the face, to sense those vibes in order to be able to handle it. If only those others had recognised that.
Empathy does involve sensitivity. But that on its own is not enough as I've tried to illustrate through the email rows. Being able to react to the other person's mood is a vital part of the equation.
And then there is understanding, compassion and your conscience too. The empathy you can feel towards those you don't know; the New Zealand earthquake victims. Complicated.
I make an effort at being empathetic. I try to understand people but don't always succeed. The one thing I don't do is assume I am empathetic any more. I think if you do that you will get it wrong and just allow your own sensitivities to take over and run riot.
On a final note I took a little test. I think it sums me up.
Here is the result in blue;
You are definitely empathic a lot of the time. You may not always get it right, but you're pretty good at telling what someone's feeling. You make an effort whenever possible. You don't necessarily want others to know how you're feeling yourself though. You're the kind of person who cares a lot about those around you, and don't necessarily have to know someone to worry about them.
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
Spare a thought
One of my regular readers, The Sagittarian lives in New Zealand. Christchurch to be precise. Her blog is called 'More Canterbury Tales'. It's in my sidebar.
When I saw the news of the earthquake my thoughts immediately went to her. It brings it home when someone you sort of know, even if it is only through blogging, becomes part of a disaster reported on the news.
It is a perfect illustration of just how global blogging is too.
She's OK but her home is wrecked. Oh well, a house can be rebuilt. Easy for me to say.
My thoughts are with her...............with you dear lady when you read this.
When I saw the news of the earthquake my thoughts immediately went to her. It brings it home when someone you sort of know, even if it is only through blogging, becomes part of a disaster reported on the news.
It is a perfect illustration of just how global blogging is too.
She's OK but her home is wrecked. Oh well, a house can be rebuilt. Easy for me to say.
My thoughts are with her...............with you dear lady when you read this.
Monday, 21 February 2011
Easy answers?
We all tend to look for them don't we. The glib response that seems so wise and wraps up a problem so easily that we can forget it and get on with our lives. Our lives of consumption.
I went out this morning. Just a little run to buy some wine and something towards tomorrow's cookfest that Mrs AWB has hinted that I do. Yes, I do try to be considerate LOL.
My fuel light came on to remind me to get some more.
I listened to the radio. One of those phone in things on some topical news item. This time it was the Libyan demonstrations. Most followed the typical line along the lines of, 'We should never have allowed Gadaffi to stay in power so long; all 'money and oil' ' blah blah blah.
The usual liberal pronouncements from people in comfortable lives who haven't ever lived in places like Libya or Egypt or..................?
One guy said that the people who worked for the evil oil companies like Shell should stay put and take their medicine!
The woman interviewing him was a little incredulous.
'What. even the cleaners and ordinary workers like them?'
Yes' came the adamant reply, 'They earn their money from propping up regimes like that so they should stay and get what they deserve'.........................or words to that effect.
I was irritated. I wish I'd been there to ask follow up questions.
This same idiot probably drives a car........fuelled by petrol from who knows where...............get my drift. I'd love it if he had some big fuel burning monster. Or maybe he worked for a company that supplied Shell? Buying a product from a corrupt horrible regime is no better than being the employee of a company that chooses to do business there. Both support it in a way. This same man could very well have moaned about expensive fuel when moaning about that on the radio was all the rage. Just where do you draw that 'culpability line'?
Money and Oil......oh yeah, easy to point fingers.
But unless you walk everywhere and somehow manage to survive without cash then hypocrisy of the kind that that silly man came out with is just what the enemies of the West will laugh at.
That we talk out of our arses.
Should we demand that our oil companies only buy oil from countries that have a regime that we approve of? Would we be prepared to pay such a price for it would be hugely expensive, given that oil is abundant mostly where governments are questionable?
Would we sacrifice some of our NHS and some of those other beloved services so dependent on public expenditure in order to be able to stand on the moral high ground?
Easy to utter platitudes but unless we are prepared to live by them I think it best to shut up and accept that in order to survive we have to make compromises and understand that whilst basic morality is simple the road towards it is not.
.................and all the while that people are celebrating the likely end of the Libyan regime no one is giving a thought to what might replace it.
The questions are very easy. We can all ask them and indeed we should. The answers?............hmmm..........a different matter entirely in my view.
I went out this morning. Just a little run to buy some wine and something towards tomorrow's cookfest that Mrs AWB has hinted that I do. Yes, I do try to be considerate LOL.
My fuel light came on to remind me to get some more.
I listened to the radio. One of those phone in things on some topical news item. This time it was the Libyan demonstrations. Most followed the typical line along the lines of, 'We should never have allowed Gadaffi to stay in power so long; all 'money and oil' ' blah blah blah.
The usual liberal pronouncements from people in comfortable lives who haven't ever lived in places like Libya or Egypt or..................?
One guy said that the people who worked for the evil oil companies like Shell should stay put and take their medicine!
The woman interviewing him was a little incredulous.
'What. even the cleaners and ordinary workers like them?'
Yes' came the adamant reply, 'They earn their money from propping up regimes like that so they should stay and get what they deserve'.........................or words to that effect.
I was irritated. I wish I'd been there to ask follow up questions.
This same idiot probably drives a car........fuelled by petrol from who knows where...............get my drift. I'd love it if he had some big fuel burning monster. Or maybe he worked for a company that supplied Shell? Buying a product from a corrupt horrible regime is no better than being the employee of a company that chooses to do business there. Both support it in a way. This same man could very well have moaned about expensive fuel when moaning about that on the radio was all the rage. Just where do you draw that 'culpability line'?
Money and Oil......oh yeah, easy to point fingers.
But unless you walk everywhere and somehow manage to survive without cash then hypocrisy of the kind that that silly man came out with is just what the enemies of the West will laugh at.
That we talk out of our arses.
Should we demand that our oil companies only buy oil from countries that have a regime that we approve of? Would we be prepared to pay such a price for it would be hugely expensive, given that oil is abundant mostly where governments are questionable?
Would we sacrifice some of our NHS and some of those other beloved services so dependent on public expenditure in order to be able to stand on the moral high ground?
Easy to utter platitudes but unless we are prepared to live by them I think it best to shut up and accept that in order to survive we have to make compromises and understand that whilst basic morality is simple the road towards it is not.
.................and all the while that people are celebrating the likely end of the Libyan regime no one is giving a thought to what might replace it.
The questions are very easy. We can all ask them and indeed we should. The answers?............hmmm..........a different matter entirely in my view.
The island of 'Me'
Just as love is the icing on the cake to a relationship so romance can be compared to the cherry on top.
It is the finishing touch that can often get forgotten but when added can give another dimension to the whole thing.
This especially applies in a long term relationship.
I was part of a 'pod' of four last night at work. The other three were young women, two of them living with long term boyfriends. By long term I mean four or five years. My thirty five year marriage was outside their comprehension. I listened to them talking about their lives at home with their men. There appeared to be little consideration from the men they described and the beginnings of that destructive bitterness on the part of a couple of the girls. They seemed to be in relationships where both parties were an island with little thought for the other. Romance did not enter the equation, let alone any consideration or kindness and I suspected that if it appeared would be viewed with cynicism.
It made me think.
I've sometimes forgotten the consideration that a loved one is due. You get blase and forget to think of the other person. It can become habit forming; you retreat to your own little island. the island of 'Me'. A relationship is a two way thing - obvious - but how often do we see it only from our own view point and forget that? How often do we stand on our island and look at the other party through a telescope and suddenly realise that although we think we are in a relationship that, in reality, we are alone? It may be obvious but it gets ignored, forgotten far too often.
Romance is a way to remember that consideration. A way to remember it in a formalised manner. To be romantic, I mean genuinely romantic and not using it as a kind of bribe or ploy, you have to think of that other person. It's like rowing a boat over to that other island and reconnecting with that person you were attracted to right at the beginning.
Just a few words, 'I love you' or a sweet text, email even. It takes you out of yourself and puts you in that other place. That place where empathy can play. Do it often enough and it can become a habit.
It has to be a habit too for we are all vulnerable and all so easily convinced that no one really loves us. We all need reminding and romance can be that conduit that allows the more practical values of kindness and consideration to flourish and become a natural part of our lives.
.................or to put it in a more practical way........to send a text saying, 'I love you' and then remembering to do the washing up, sort out the washer and prepare a meal.
Hmmmm.........that reminds me LOL.
Romance is that cherry on the cake of our loves, our lives even....................but on its own it is not enough. It has to be the finishing touch to something deeper.
Another analogy to illustrate my understanding;
We all have a room in our minds that contains that precious, irreplaceable concept. The ability to love and be loved. The door to it is kindness, consideration and empathy.
Romance can be likened to the key to open that door.
It is the finishing touch that can often get forgotten but when added can give another dimension to the whole thing.
This especially applies in a long term relationship.
I was part of a 'pod' of four last night at work. The other three were young women, two of them living with long term boyfriends. By long term I mean four or five years. My thirty five year marriage was outside their comprehension. I listened to them talking about their lives at home with their men. There appeared to be little consideration from the men they described and the beginnings of that destructive bitterness on the part of a couple of the girls. They seemed to be in relationships where both parties were an island with little thought for the other. Romance did not enter the equation, let alone any consideration or kindness and I suspected that if it appeared would be viewed with cynicism.
It made me think.
I've sometimes forgotten the consideration that a loved one is due. You get blase and forget to think of the other person. It can become habit forming; you retreat to your own little island. the island of 'Me'. A relationship is a two way thing - obvious - but how often do we see it only from our own view point and forget that? How often do we stand on our island and look at the other party through a telescope and suddenly realise that although we think we are in a relationship that, in reality, we are alone? It may be obvious but it gets ignored, forgotten far too often.
Romance is a way to remember that consideration. A way to remember it in a formalised manner. To be romantic, I mean genuinely romantic and not using it as a kind of bribe or ploy, you have to think of that other person. It's like rowing a boat over to that other island and reconnecting with that person you were attracted to right at the beginning.
Just a few words, 'I love you' or a sweet text, email even. It takes you out of yourself and puts you in that other place. That place where empathy can play. Do it often enough and it can become a habit.
It has to be a habit too for we are all vulnerable and all so easily convinced that no one really loves us. We all need reminding and romance can be that conduit that allows the more practical values of kindness and consideration to flourish and become a natural part of our lives.
.................or to put it in a more practical way........to send a text saying, 'I love you' and then remembering to do the washing up, sort out the washer and prepare a meal.
Hmmmm.........that reminds me LOL.
Romance is that cherry on the cake of our loves, our lives even....................but on its own it is not enough. It has to be the finishing touch to something deeper.
Another analogy to illustrate my understanding;
We all have a room in our minds that contains that precious, irreplaceable concept. The ability to love and be loved. The door to it is kindness, consideration and empathy.
Romance can be likened to the key to open that door.
Friday, 18 February 2011
No gangs for me
I've always been a bit of a loner. My job has highlighted it in a way. Whilst I think I'm reasonably friendly I do not have 'favourites' and am not part of any clique, group or gang. In 'The Room' at my place of work there are those who tend to stick together. Some are almost inseparable and many will try to sit next to one of their buddies. I don't do that at all. I'm a space filler. If a seat's unoccupied I'll take it rather than wait 'til one becomes available next to someone I get on well with.
If my neighbour is chatty, fine. If not, I've got my Sudoku.
I've always been like that. In fact I prefer my own company on occasion. At school I got bullied sometimes because I was self-sufficient. People don't always like it. I think it's seen as suspect, at least by those who need to be part of a group, who need to belong to a defined group. They seem to need that to define their personality.
Combine that with my openness and you can get trouble. As part of a group those who are open about things to the point of being blunt are protected by the group and ................well, that's where bullying can start. Or whisperings behind backs if the bullying is less open............which give rise to those horrible furtive little cliques that permeate many work places or anywhere where people gather I suppose.
It can happen in the blogging world. I'm quite open. I say what I think. I don't belong to any particular group. I don't close off my blog and just allow a little clique of people in to whisper. I don't exclude so I can talk behind someone's back. That's just another form of bullying in my eyes. I'll tell it to your face.
What you see is very much what you get. If I keep something back it is kept back from everyone not just those I would want to exclude. I don't have that 'club' mentality.
Because we are social animals we all want to 'belong'. Don't get me wrong. I do too.
It's just that I want to belong to everyone and not just a clique or a gang. I don't want to exclude you, no matter how hateful you might be. I don't see that I have the right for one thing. So if something of me.....namely my blog in this case............or my company when at work........is open to be seen then I prefer for all to share and not just a select few.
Not a gang.
If my neighbour is chatty, fine. If not, I've got my Sudoku.
I've always been like that. In fact I prefer my own company on occasion. At school I got bullied sometimes because I was self-sufficient. People don't always like it. I think it's seen as suspect, at least by those who need to be part of a group, who need to belong to a defined group. They seem to need that to define their personality.
Combine that with my openness and you can get trouble. As part of a group those who are open about things to the point of being blunt are protected by the group and ................well, that's where bullying can start. Or whisperings behind backs if the bullying is less open............which give rise to those horrible furtive little cliques that permeate many work places or anywhere where people gather I suppose.
It can happen in the blogging world. I'm quite open. I say what I think. I don't belong to any particular group. I don't close off my blog and just allow a little clique of people in to whisper. I don't exclude so I can talk behind someone's back. That's just another form of bullying in my eyes. I'll tell it to your face.
What you see is very much what you get. If I keep something back it is kept back from everyone not just those I would want to exclude. I don't have that 'club' mentality.
Because we are social animals we all want to 'belong'. Don't get me wrong. I do too.
It's just that I want to belong to everyone and not just a clique or a gang. I don't want to exclude you, no matter how hateful you might be. I don't see that I have the right for one thing. So if something of me.....namely my blog in this case............or my company when at work........is open to be seen then I prefer for all to share and not just a select few.
Not a gang.
A Birthday
Granddaughter's ninth to be exact. I made something special. One of those '30 minute' meals from a Jamie Oliver book. It took me about forty five minutes which was good given that there are four dishes to prepare including a dessert.
Chicken Satay with a dressed noodle dish and a salad with sliced pineapple with minted sugar and bilberries on it.
Mrs AWB, Granddaughter and Daughter declared it wonderful. Who am I to argue.
The Satay recipe; half a small bunch coriander, one chilli. half a garlic clove (I used a whole one), 3 heaped table spoons of good crunchy peanut butter, soy sauce, 2cm fresh ginger, a dash of olive oil and the juice of two limes. I forgot to put the zest in, doh!
The noodles had finely chopped red onion, chilli, coriander along with toasted crushed cashews, fish sauce, soy sauce, sesame oil and runny honey. They were lovely.
....and all that was done with the little gem leaves was a little chopped chilli, soy sauce, lime juice and chopped coriander all tossed together.
Dead easy
Oops
I think I've inadvertantly caused some confusion. I typed the title out for a post yesterday and then the phone rang and I had to dash off. Intstead of pressing 'Save Now' I clicked on 'Publish' and left a cryptic title. Not been back 'til now.
What was I saying 'Goodbye' to?
This. My lovely Jaguar. I did some sums and realised just how expensive it was to run. The mileage was creeping up and the servicing was starting to include expensive replacement parts. I had to take the plunge for the sake of practicality.
So now I am the slightly less proud owner of a smaller car. It's still nice and has 'man toys' like satnav to play with but my old Jag does mark the passing of a period of my life when I'd travel all over the place in comfort. I needed a good big car for that. It added something to my work, something I don't need now.
What was I saying 'Goodbye' to?
This. My lovely Jaguar. I did some sums and realised just how expensive it was to run. The mileage was creeping up and the servicing was starting to include expensive replacement parts. I had to take the plunge for the sake of practicality.
So now I am the slightly less proud owner of a smaller car. It's still nice and has 'man toys' like satnav to play with but my old Jag does mark the passing of a period of my life when I'd travel all over the place in comfort. I needed a good big car for that. It added something to my work, something I don't need now.
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Yesterday
You get those days don't you. Days that you just know will lie in your mind. Days that will stay with you for as long as your memory works.
Yesterday was such a day. You'd be forgiven, looking at the photos, that it was a 'walk day'. Well, yes and no. That wasn't the primary aim.
We went here , to Debbie Clifford's place. Mrs AWB had sourced it for some procedure and I took her. She would never have got there on her own.
I had been told that Debbie's husband would take care of me and, if I wanted, take me for a walk with the dogs they have. I went with an open mind. They sounded nice but walking can be quite a personal thing and if you are walking with someone you don't 'click' with I would envisage it being a little awkward. I was prepared for being a bit of a spare part.
I needn't have worried. He proved to be a rather charming, shy man from Holland. Interesting too. Their place is up a winding lane and difficult to find but once there we were made welcome. I sat in with the first half hour of the consultation and was impressed by Debbie. The 'procedure' was fascinating.
.....and then her husband, Jasper, came in and invited me on a walk. Five dogs they have. All characters. All lovely. I was hooked. We covered a couple of miles from the pond you see around a loop with gorgeous views north of Bradford. He's an artist . His works dot the place and, being a large house, they fit nicely.
Coffee and banter in the kitchen before he went off to do some work and left me with the run of the house basically. A lovely one too. I lounged in the lounge with a book of 'Walks in West Yorkshire'. Seemed to suit the mood. What trusting people.
We drove off with beatific smiles looking forward to returning.
It's nice and oh so rare when people turn a business experience into something that little more personal.
Lovely people.
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Disorientation
Ding Dong. The doorbell. Bugger.
I'd been dreaming and fell out of bed and down the flights of stairs from the top floor to answer the door. It was dark. A bearded guy with an ID tag stood there. He apologised for getting me up, after looking me up and down. I was in my nightshirt and told him to be quick. He started on about a children's charity.
'Just stop there,' I said rather sharply. 'It's still dark. What time is it?' Thinking it must be sevenish but still annoyed that a charity collector should around so early.
'Half past six' He just stood there as if to say............'and so, what's wrong with that?'
'Half past six!' I shouted. 'In the morning!' I shouted again. 'That's ridiculous!'
'No. It's the evening' He said rather tentatively.
'Oh'..............Shit. I didn't say that at least. Slowly the reality dawned. I apologised profusely, explaining that I'd been on late shifts. I had too. He made a speedy exit.
The reality?
Well, we had been out for our meal to Fazenda. Lovely. Fantastic venue. Brilliant service. Great wine. The food good but not as good as the venue or the service. The place overlooks the canal and moorings. We'll go again though.
We'd got back, had our Champagne, snuggled up and then fatigue, full tummies and alcohol hit us. I'd only slept about six hours or so in the previous forty eight. Mrs AWB never sleeps well when I'm on nights.
I went up to bed. She stayed on the settee. That was after four. She's a heavy sleeper, I'm not..........so two hours later it was me who got woken, thinking I'd slept through the night.
A lovely day though. Memorable and that little vignette of me standing at the door thinking I was twelve hours further on just adds to it.
We have another nice day planned for today.
I'd been dreaming and fell out of bed and down the flights of stairs from the top floor to answer the door. It was dark. A bearded guy with an ID tag stood there. He apologised for getting me up, after looking me up and down. I was in my nightshirt and told him to be quick. He started on about a children's charity.
'Just stop there,' I said rather sharply. 'It's still dark. What time is it?' Thinking it must be sevenish but still annoyed that a charity collector should around so early.
'Half past six' He just stood there as if to say............'and so, what's wrong with that?'
'Half past six!' I shouted. 'In the morning!' I shouted again. 'That's ridiculous!'
'No. It's the evening' He said rather tentatively.
'Oh'..............Shit. I didn't say that at least. Slowly the reality dawned. I apologised profusely, explaining that I'd been on late shifts. I had too. He made a speedy exit.
The reality?
Well, we had been out for our meal to Fazenda. Lovely. Fantastic venue. Brilliant service. Great wine. The food good but not as good as the venue or the service. The place overlooks the canal and moorings. We'll go again though.
We'd got back, had our Champagne, snuggled up and then fatigue, full tummies and alcohol hit us. I'd only slept about six hours or so in the previous forty eight. Mrs AWB never sleeps well when I'm on nights.
I went up to bed. She stayed on the settee. That was after four. She's a heavy sleeper, I'm not..........so two hours later it was me who got woken, thinking I'd slept through the night.
A lovely day though. Memorable and that little vignette of me standing at the door thinking I was twelve hours further on just adds to it.
We have another nice day planned for today.
Monday, 14 February 2011
Welcome Home
I got back just after 3.00 am today. Eleven hours and tired. Looking forward to today and our time together.
I poured a large whisky and clambered the flights of stairs up to the bedrooms, got changed and tumbled down to the living room.
There on the footstool was an envelope and some carefully wrapped gifts. I didn't open them. I wanted to do that in her presence.
...........which I have done now.
Lovely.
Now I'm looking at cars and she's looking at jewels on our respective computers......each with a glass of wine while we pootle before our taxi arrives later on.
The sun shines. The day promises to be quite wonderful.
...........and all because I'll be with the one woman who has always loved me, never hurt me without healing me, always been there for me.
I poured a large whisky and clambered the flights of stairs up to the bedrooms, got changed and tumbled down to the living room.
There on the footstool was an envelope and some carefully wrapped gifts. I didn't open them. I wanted to do that in her presence.
...........which I have done now.
Lovely.
Now I'm looking at cars and she's looking at jewels on our respective computers......each with a glass of wine while we pootle before our taxi arrives later on.
The sun shines. The day promises to be quite wonderful.
...........and all because I'll be with the one woman who has always loved me, never hurt me without healing me, always been there for me.
Friday, 11 February 2011
The way they were
Nearly thirty years ago this. 'The Bairns' when they were little. It's in our back garden. Through the glass is our dining room with the Stag Dining Suite we kept for years until it wobbled like a tired old man. We replaced it and then regretted not spending the money to get it repaired.
Funny how an old photo can jolt a memory that you'd never expect it to.
Son still has his dimples when he smiles, which is often. He is taller than me now. An imposing man. Daughter is still captivating............when she wants to be.
.....and you can see her daughter in her too.
I was a proud dad then. I still am.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Parents
There are parents and there are parents. Most of us make some kind of effort and occasionally succeed in what can often seem a never ending challenge.
But not all.
I got a call from a Head Mistress this afternoon. A mother had come to pick up her five year old. The mother was pissed. I mean really pissed. She could hardly walk and when she sat down in reception while the staff contacted the father she urinated on the seat.
The father?
He was angry with the school for keeping his child back while they waited for him to turn up. His wife's condition didn't seem to bother him at all.
Can you believe it?
What kind of adulthood awaits that poor kid.............for the childhood can't be worth living.
But not all.
I got a call from a Head Mistress this afternoon. A mother had come to pick up her five year old. The mother was pissed. I mean really pissed. She could hardly walk and when she sat down in reception while the staff contacted the father she urinated on the seat.
The father?
He was angry with the school for keeping his child back while they waited for him to turn up. His wife's condition didn't seem to bother him at all.
Can you believe it?
What kind of adulthood awaits that poor kid.............for the childhood can't be worth living.
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
Do you want a massage?
I'm working a long twelve hour shift on Saturday night. Five 'til five. It'll be knackering.
I'll get back at about 5.20 am and probably pour myself a drink.............and that's where the title comes in; Mrs AWB asked. Oh yes! A hot bath ready for me too. I suspect the drink will be waiting for me.............it was tonight.
I sometimes wonder what I have done to deserve such love.
It'll make the shift not just bearable but enjoyable. It'll make me even more lovable.....or should that be bearable LOL.
It will make me more determined to return that love that has kept us together for thirty five years.
Funny you know, I listened to her prattle on about work tonight. Half listened. Let's call it 'Man Listen'. She looked at me.
'You aren't listening'
'I am' and recounted what she had told me, 'I like listening. I may not listen to the detail but I get the gist and I like to hear your voice.' I do too.
She looked at me with a slight frown. I smiled and continued, 'It's all in the tongue'
She smiled............and then listened to me working my tongue LOL
I'll get back at about 5.20 am and probably pour myself a drink.............and that's where the title comes in; Mrs AWB asked. Oh yes! A hot bath ready for me too. I suspect the drink will be waiting for me.............it was tonight.
I sometimes wonder what I have done to deserve such love.
It'll make the shift not just bearable but enjoyable. It'll make me even more lovable.....or should that be bearable LOL.
It will make me more determined to return that love that has kept us together for thirty five years.
Funny you know, I listened to her prattle on about work tonight. Half listened. Let's call it 'Man Listen'. She looked at me.
'You aren't listening'
'I am' and recounted what she had told me, 'I like listening. I may not listen to the detail but I get the gist and I like to hear your voice.' I do too.
She looked at me with a slight frown. I smiled and continued, 'It's all in the tongue'
She smiled............and then listened to me working my tongue LOL
Secret Squirrels
There is a lot of change going at work. New training. New roles. All sorts of stuff. People are being selected to help train, to buddy up with others coming from different departments so as to get them up to speed. All devised by the management.
Whispering.
'Why has so and so been chosen?'
'I would have thought so and so would have been a better choice?'
........and so on.
All in whispers.
Oh, for crying out loud why not say it. I sit there and think, 'What the hell are they on about?' If they are bothered, go see someone. Why whisper for all that does is allow imagination to play on the thing and then you get resentment, suspicion and the rest. Get it out in the open.
If something is to be said or done that is controversial and affects those who are involved then it should be open and above board.
I kept my head down. Can't be arsed. If I get chosen fine enough. If I don't that's equally fine.
.......and I'm happier for it too....not being involved in the politics of shit behind the backs of those making the decisions.
If I've got an opinion I'll vent it. I'll say what I think and will say it so those who are the subject of my opinions know what I think. Anything else is a cop out, a deceit and will lead to deeper resentments. Far better to get it out and let it hit the target.
As a boss I always communicated. Got the shit out of the way. Same with my blog, same with family. You get the flair ups but you get a way out too. If people know where you stand then they know how to tackle you and although that does sound like preparing for a battle it also gives all concerned the wherewithal to deal with and resolve the situation........assuming that is what they want.
Some like the politics, the continual conflict that festers forever. I take a different view.
If it has to be said say it. Don't hide it...................unless you are so paranoid or cowardly that what you have to say doesn't make any sense.......unless you are not confident of your case.
I wonder if that's why we haven't had stuff explained to us. The problem that lies with that is that if things are not explained, if suspicions are allowed to fester then people imagine the worst and the biggest loser is, as often as not, the 'secret squirrel' for they feel misunderstood and frustrated. Their authority is undermined. Trust flies out of the window.
There is a parallel.
That attitude I have is why I would never lock my blog. I thought about it but why? If people don't like what I have to say.............tough. No one forces anyone to read what I say and getting my angsts and gripes out of the way allows me to move on.......and those who are involved too.
.......and having my blog open for all gives me pause for thought. It forces me to think through what I say so that I can say it with some conviction. Silence, be it from management or the blogger, indicates lack of confidence. Silence allows our imaginations to go into overdrive and turn those mole hills into mountains. Seen it before. Communicating encourages us to think things through, to present a coherent argument for our case.
In a way, as bloggers we are managers. Managers of our own propaganda, or to put a kinder slant on it, our own communications.
Maybe our management should blog their decisions!
Whispering.
'Why has so and so been chosen?'
'I would have thought so and so would have been a better choice?'
........and so on.
All in whispers.
Oh, for crying out loud why not say it. I sit there and think, 'What the hell are they on about?' If they are bothered, go see someone. Why whisper for all that does is allow imagination to play on the thing and then you get resentment, suspicion and the rest. Get it out in the open.
If something is to be said or done that is controversial and affects those who are involved then it should be open and above board.
I kept my head down. Can't be arsed. If I get chosen fine enough. If I don't that's equally fine.
.......and I'm happier for it too....not being involved in the politics of shit behind the backs of those making the decisions.
If I've got an opinion I'll vent it. I'll say what I think and will say it so those who are the subject of my opinions know what I think. Anything else is a cop out, a deceit and will lead to deeper resentments. Far better to get it out and let it hit the target.
As a boss I always communicated. Got the shit out of the way. Same with my blog, same with family. You get the flair ups but you get a way out too. If people know where you stand then they know how to tackle you and although that does sound like preparing for a battle it also gives all concerned the wherewithal to deal with and resolve the situation........assuming that is what they want.
Some like the politics, the continual conflict that festers forever. I take a different view.
If it has to be said say it. Don't hide it...................unless you are so paranoid or cowardly that what you have to say doesn't make any sense.......unless you are not confident of your case.
I wonder if that's why we haven't had stuff explained to us. The problem that lies with that is that if things are not explained, if suspicions are allowed to fester then people imagine the worst and the biggest loser is, as often as not, the 'secret squirrel' for they feel misunderstood and frustrated. Their authority is undermined. Trust flies out of the window.
There is a parallel.
That attitude I have is why I would never lock my blog. I thought about it but why? If people don't like what I have to say.............tough. No one forces anyone to read what I say and getting my angsts and gripes out of the way allows me to move on.......and those who are involved too.
.......and having my blog open for all gives me pause for thought. It forces me to think through what I say so that I can say it with some conviction. Silence, be it from management or the blogger, indicates lack of confidence. Silence allows our imaginations to go into overdrive and turn those mole hills into mountains. Seen it before. Communicating encourages us to think things through, to present a coherent argument for our case.
In a way, as bloggers we are managers. Managers of our own propaganda, or to put a kinder slant on it, our own communications.
Maybe our management should blog their decisions!
Look a little further
We've all seen this clip of 'Super Gran' helping to foil a jewel heist. Wonderful lady.
A couple of things struck me. She came running from some way back - past other people - to take them on. Why didn't those other people do the same? Seems that some only joined in after she set the example.
Too scared to get involved?
What if a younger person, a man, had done the same as the old lady - she's 71 so not that old really?
Would the robbers have stood around in shock unsure as to how to react?
Or would they have taken some action against a guy, a known quantity. Possibly with a knife or a gun if they had one.
People in our modern world are sometimes reluctant to get involved. However, even amongst some thieves at least, there does seem to be a level of restraint that lingers.
Just some thoughts.
A couple of things struck me. She came running from some way back - past other people - to take them on. Why didn't those other people do the same? Seems that some only joined in after she set the example.
Too scared to get involved?
What if a younger person, a man, had done the same as the old lady - she's 71 so not that old really?
Would the robbers have stood around in shock unsure as to how to react?
Or would they have taken some action against a guy, a known quantity. Possibly with a knife or a gun if they had one.
People in our modern world are sometimes reluctant to get involved. However, even amongst some thieves at least, there does seem to be a level of restraint that lingers.
Just some thoughts.
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
It's obviously a man thing
Poor Mrs AWB, She's getting lumbered with that cold thingy that the rest of the family seem to have had while she escaped. Curled up with an electric fleece rug she's been. Watching a movie.
No cuddles tonight. She pushed me away not wanting me to get a return of that bug.
I retired to 'The Snug'
Our snug is on the same floor as our lounge. In effect we have two lounges. The one that is meant be 'The Lounge' and our snug. It's actually designed as a bedroom complete with en suite. We have a settee and our computer and music stuff in there.
I often lie on the settee with headphones on and deafen myself with some CD or other.
Tonight it was Led Zep with copious quantities of Whisky. Even with alcohol I'm quite restrained.......relatively speaking. I head bang in my mind.
Now alcohol has an effect we all know about. It has to come out. It's a deadly combo of diuretic and liquid all rolled up with the alcoholic effects of not being able to restrain oneself.
Towards the end of the CD I needed a piss. Normally I'll pause the CD, take off the headphones and go into the en suite.
Tonight? An epiphany. Why take off the headphones? After all the settee is near the en suite. So I didn't and wandered into the little cubicle with my headphones on, undid my flies and had the most wondrous pee I've had in long time...........
.................accompanied by 'Stairway to Heaven'.
Holding my cock whilst standing pissing and listening to Plant spear the high notes with that voice of his had a kind of surreal intimacy that no woman could experience..................OK I'm taking the piss.
I got to thinking.
Maybe I should shit to 'When the Levee Breaks'
No cuddles tonight. She pushed me away not wanting me to get a return of that bug.
I retired to 'The Snug'
Our snug is on the same floor as our lounge. In effect we have two lounges. The one that is meant be 'The Lounge' and our snug. It's actually designed as a bedroom complete with en suite. We have a settee and our computer and music stuff in there.
I often lie on the settee with headphones on and deafen myself with some CD or other.
Tonight it was Led Zep with copious quantities of Whisky. Even with alcohol I'm quite restrained.......relatively speaking. I head bang in my mind.
Now alcohol has an effect we all know about. It has to come out. It's a deadly combo of diuretic and liquid all rolled up with the alcoholic effects of not being able to restrain oneself.
Towards the end of the CD I needed a piss. Normally I'll pause the CD, take off the headphones and go into the en suite.
Tonight? An epiphany. Why take off the headphones? After all the settee is near the en suite. So I didn't and wandered into the little cubicle with my headphones on, undid my flies and had the most wondrous pee I've had in long time...........
.................accompanied by 'Stairway to Heaven'.
Holding my cock whilst standing pissing and listening to Plant spear the high notes with that voice of his had a kind of surreal intimacy that no woman could experience..................OK I'm taking the piss.
I got to thinking.
Maybe I should shit to 'When the Levee Breaks'
Monday, 7 February 2011
Choices
On Monday we are going out for lunch. Our anniversary lunch. Once upon a time the choice would have been easy. Now? Wow just where should we go?
Going back to when we first courted I remember a restaurant we used to frequent in Sunderland. Now Sunderland is not known for fine dining even now but back in the seventies the very idea of dining out was very special. Hence the number of restaurants was limited and the menus not exactly adventurous.
We frequented a nice little Italian place. It was called Pinnochios and we liked it because it was relaxed and friendly. The walls had those basketed bottles hanging from them. The waiters got drunker than I did and spoke with a peculiar Italianate Wearside accent.
We loved the food........even down to the 'Ficci con Crema'; Tinned figs with cream. At least the cream was fresh. We thought it very sophisticated. I acquired my love of Steak Rossini at that time although the concept of Rare, Medium Rare and the rest hadn't entered the equation. At least not for us. Maybe they saw us coming.
For Monday we've been wondering where to go for our lunch. Not the evening. That will be booked full and chock a block with too many would be romantics. Romance should be intimate and that will be the antithesis of the idea. We were tempted to just stay home for that reason..............but we can do that on the night.
So lunch time it will be. But where? We want somewhere we haven't been to before.
At first Jamie's appealed. We like his food and he is one of the few TV chefs we copy............with success LOL.
But then we alighted on Fazenda , a Brazilian styled place. It sounds novel.
The thing is there is so much choice and with that choice the venues have to compete to standards that were never dreamt of thirty odd years ago.
I don't think we'll be getting any tinned figs. Pity in a way. I still like them.
Going back to when we first courted I remember a restaurant we used to frequent in Sunderland. Now Sunderland is not known for fine dining even now but back in the seventies the very idea of dining out was very special. Hence the number of restaurants was limited and the menus not exactly adventurous.
We frequented a nice little Italian place. It was called Pinnochios and we liked it because it was relaxed and friendly. The walls had those basketed bottles hanging from them. The waiters got drunker than I did and spoke with a peculiar Italianate Wearside accent.
We loved the food........even down to the 'Ficci con Crema'; Tinned figs with cream. At least the cream was fresh. We thought it very sophisticated. I acquired my love of Steak Rossini at that time although the concept of Rare, Medium Rare and the rest hadn't entered the equation. At least not for us. Maybe they saw us coming.
For Monday we've been wondering where to go for our lunch. Not the evening. That will be booked full and chock a block with too many would be romantics. Romance should be intimate and that will be the antithesis of the idea. We were tempted to just stay home for that reason..............but we can do that on the night.
So lunch time it will be. But where? We want somewhere we haven't been to before.
At first Jamie's appealed. We like his food and he is one of the few TV chefs we copy............with success LOL.
But then we alighted on Fazenda , a Brazilian styled place. It sounds novel.
The thing is there is so much choice and with that choice the venues have to compete to standards that were never dreamt of thirty odd years ago.
I don't think we'll be getting any tinned figs. Pity in a way. I still like them.
Continuity
It's that time again. Spring. Our Snowdrops are out and spreading too. There's a clump on the other side of the blue obelisk you see. Wonderful.
I like the cycle of life. The circle of existence that repeats itself year on year with subtle variations. One year the Daffodils thrive particularly well. Another year it may be me who blossoms LOL.
It's the continuity that I appreciate. Maybe an age thing. Maybe having a family. When we are young and everything is new the excitement of the new rules. It has to be so because we haven't experienced that cycle of life very much in any meaningful way.
As I get older I'm beginning to appreciate that extra layer in my life. Yes, the new can be nice but the same is perhaps even better.
For the same is never really the same is it. Those Snowdrops are the same Snowdrops that opened last year. But they are different too. There are more of them for one thing. I look at them with different eyes for another.
Next week Mrs AWB and I celebrate thirty five years of marriage. She's the same woman that I married all those years ago. She is also so different from the innocent young thing who joined me on the journey of our lives.
I met someone new this morning. A nice person. No, a lovely person. It was nice so new can be lovely.
But I think I prefer the same because it can be so different. If you get my drift.
A Tale of Two Tables
We have two tables, a metal one in the kitchen and a more formal wooden dining table that can be extended. That, believe it or not, is in the dining room.
Sometimes we'll eat in our lounge, the modern lazy way in front of the telly with plates on our knees and maybe a tray of goodies on a coffee table or the footstool.
For intimacy though you have to sit down. Not in front of the telly but at the same table as the person sharing your meal. Opposite or side by side. Within touching distance. We do that quite often now. More often than in the past.
On Saturday evening I cooked. I did Indian. The art is to simplify too so as not to interfere with all the other things that we like doing when we are off together and uninterrupted by family. So, between spending time.....er......well, you know and other stuff I made some pastes ready to cook off quickly. I tried a variation. A paste zuzzed up in the processor designed to go with fish was, instead cooked with Courgettes and a paste designed for a veggie dish got the prawns. Mrs AWB declared them beautiful. But then she was glowing.
Sunday was Mrs AWB's turn. Spiced stuffed Beef with a wondrous gravy and creamed Leeks along with Greens and chopped up Carrots and Swede with small baked tatties; a sort of cross between baked and roast they were.
Sometimes we'll eat in our lounge, the modern lazy way in front of the telly with plates on our knees and maybe a tray of goodies on a coffee table or the footstool.
For intimacy though you have to sit down. Not in front of the telly but at the same table as the person sharing your meal. Opposite or side by side. Within touching distance. We do that quite often now. More often than in the past.
On Saturday evening I cooked. I did Indian. The art is to simplify too so as not to interfere with all the other things that we like doing when we are off together and uninterrupted by family. So, between spending time.....er......well, you know and other stuff I made some pastes ready to cook off quickly. I tried a variation. A paste zuzzed up in the processor designed to go with fish was, instead cooked with Courgettes and a paste designed for a veggie dish got the prawns. Mrs AWB declared them beautiful. But then she was glowing.
Sunday was Mrs AWB's turn. Spiced stuffed Beef with a wondrous gravy and creamed Leeks along with Greens and chopped up Carrots and Swede with small baked tatties; a sort of cross between baked and roast they were.I declared it a success.
But then I was glowing too.
I have to add that the bottles of wine you see on each photo are not the same bottle. Same wine; different bottle.
Saturday, 5 February 2011
A Nadir
At work I watch stuff I wouldn't normally bother with at home. Sometimes I enjoy it, at other times I understand why I don't watch it.
Top Gear is one such programme that belongs in the latter category.
Years ago I enjoyed it. You'd get to see the latest models produced by the car makers and the presenters would guide you around the vehicle and take it on a test run. All stuff designed to appeal to men.
It is still designed to appeal to males. But oh, what a difference.
Whereas thirty years ago to be a man was to be adult in a masculine kind of way now it seems to be the fashion for men to behave like grown up toddlers...................well OK, adolescents.
The three presenters prat about with huge budgets doing stuff that an adult male of thirty years ago would have gawped at in amazement. Not because it is amazing but because of the sheer childishness - in my view- of the antics. It isn't really about cars. It's a about a trio of daft men doing daft things and spending an enormous amount of money doing it.
They remind me of Bill and Ben with Little Weed and talk in a parody of 'Commentator Speak'. Basically this means no more than three or maybe four words at a time, all with individual emphasis and then a pause with the last word of each sentence lengthened for no other reason than to prolongue the programme it seems.
Imagine talking like that at breakfast, "Darling, would you like.............pause for effect..........some toast and...................pause for effect....................maaaaarmalade".
Fucking irritating. I find the programme pointless and boring. Yet my young colleagues love it. What is it with men of today?
A programme designed for men in the past would present men in what would be termed a manly or masculine way.
'Manly' - now there's a word. Even as I typed it I almost cringed at such an anachronistic term. Even masculine is avoided. It's as though men are afraid to flaunt their sexuality for fear of being seen as old fashioned.
For fear of being seen as a threat to the fashionable feminine opposite sex?
So what do men do? They stay in their adolescence. They don't become men. And some men even revert back into adolescence. For that is what Top Gear has become. A programme for grown ups with the mentality of teenagers.
Even the term 'man' or 'men' is used less now and replaced by the less manly 'lad' or 'lads'. Men have become accustomed to behave like adolescents long after their hormones have settled down.
And now we have middle aged men doing it too; like Jeremy Clarkson.
I wonder if there is an irony in this somewhere. In our modern world where women can challenge men in ways they could never do in the past is this refusal to grow up and in some cases an actual retreat back into 'laddishness', the ultimate rebellion for the misogynists. A sort of 'Fuck you' to women?
Is it misogyny wearing a disguise?
Top Gear is one such programme that belongs in the latter category.
Years ago I enjoyed it. You'd get to see the latest models produced by the car makers and the presenters would guide you around the vehicle and take it on a test run. All stuff designed to appeal to men.
It is still designed to appeal to males. But oh, what a difference.
Whereas thirty years ago to be a man was to be adult in a masculine kind of way now it seems to be the fashion for men to behave like grown up toddlers...................well OK, adolescents.
The three presenters prat about with huge budgets doing stuff that an adult male of thirty years ago would have gawped at in amazement. Not because it is amazing but because of the sheer childishness - in my view- of the antics. It isn't really about cars. It's a about a trio of daft men doing daft things and spending an enormous amount of money doing it.
They remind me of Bill and Ben with Little Weed and talk in a parody of 'Commentator Speak'. Basically this means no more than three or maybe four words at a time, all with individual emphasis and then a pause with the last word of each sentence lengthened for no other reason than to prolongue the programme it seems.
Imagine talking like that at breakfast, "Darling, would you like.............pause for effect..........some toast and...................pause for effect....................maaaaarmalade".
Fucking irritating. I find the programme pointless and boring. Yet my young colleagues love it. What is it with men of today?
A programme designed for men in the past would present men in what would be termed a manly or masculine way.
'Manly' - now there's a word. Even as I typed it I almost cringed at such an anachronistic term. Even masculine is avoided. It's as though men are afraid to flaunt their sexuality for fear of being seen as old fashioned.
For fear of being seen as a threat to the fashionable feminine opposite sex?
So what do men do? They stay in their adolescence. They don't become men. And some men even revert back into adolescence. For that is what Top Gear has become. A programme for grown ups with the mentality of teenagers.
Even the term 'man' or 'men' is used less now and replaced by the less manly 'lad' or 'lads'. Men have become accustomed to behave like adolescents long after their hormones have settled down.
And now we have middle aged men doing it too; like Jeremy Clarkson.
I wonder if there is an irony in this somewhere. In our modern world where women can challenge men in ways they could never do in the past is this refusal to grow up and in some cases an actual retreat back into 'laddishness', the ultimate rebellion for the misogynists. A sort of 'Fuck you' to women?
Is it misogyny wearing a disguise?
Friday, 4 February 2011
What's your name?
A simple question with a simple answer you may think.
Last night I had a lady on the phone who managed to combine being quite dim with alcohol to create that deadly recipe.
The never ending call.
It should have been simple. All she wanted to do was a have a message passed on to the officer dealing with her case. A two minute job.
Ten minutes later I was still with her but at least at the winding up stage. Yes, I was well and truly wound up. She finished with a friendly gesture.
'What's your name?'
'I'm John' We never give surnames. If they want someone they can trace we do give out staff or collar numbers.
'Am John?' came a puzzled sounding response.
'Yes, my name is John'
'Sorry, but you said Am John?' She sounded genuinely puzzled and given the previous ten minutes it didn't surprise me. Otherwise I would have thought she was taking the piss.
'I'm John as in I am John' I tried to explain.
'I'm getting confused now', Eh? I was getting exasperated. If only I hadn't prefixed 'John' with 'I'm'. A simple concept to most but not to this lady.
'My name is John'
'Sorry?' Oh, for crying out loud.
'I - AM - JOHN', Heads were raised.
'Oh, John..........I see now'
Last night I had a lady on the phone who managed to combine being quite dim with alcohol to create that deadly recipe.
The never ending call.
It should have been simple. All she wanted to do was a have a message passed on to the officer dealing with her case. A two minute job.
Ten minutes later I was still with her but at least at the winding up stage. Yes, I was well and truly wound up. She finished with a friendly gesture.
'What's your name?'
'I'm John' We never give surnames. If they want someone they can trace we do give out staff or collar numbers.
'Am John?' came a puzzled sounding response.
'Yes, my name is John'
'Sorry, but you said Am John?' She sounded genuinely puzzled and given the previous ten minutes it didn't surprise me. Otherwise I would have thought she was taking the piss.
'I'm John as in I am John' I tried to explain.
'I'm getting confused now', Eh? I was getting exasperated. If only I hadn't prefixed 'John' with 'I'm'. A simple concept to most but not to this lady.
'My name is John'
'Sorry?' Oh, for crying out loud.
'I - AM - JOHN', Heads were raised.
'Oh, John..........I see now'
Judge for Yourself
As humans we have a quality that no other sentient being has.
We can form opinions, we can make judgements based on those opinions. It is unique and, to me, very precious. Like all precious things it has to be treated with respect.
I blogged about 'judgement' a few days ago using parallels in my own life.
Recently I've read and watched a case of a judgement being made in the public eye and its consequences. Another thoughtful blogpost made me think a little more about this too.
It's the QI A bomb furore. QI is a quiz programme focusing on the odd and quirky to give the contestants, mostly comedians, a chance to show their talents. In a nutshell the subject of Hiroshima came up linked with the death of a 93 year survivor who had survived both Hiroshima and Nagasaki. His survival was the kind of unique experience they use. A complaint came in from the Japanese Embassy and Stephen Fry, the compere, has had to axe a visit to Japan as a result.
On the face of it it does seem crass. A risky subject to combine with humour. However I hadn't seen the programme and I'm always a bit chary about forming opinions on the basis of other peoples' views or on something I haven't witnessed.
Too many of us judge without knowing the full story; a misuse of our unique ability. I did some digging.
I found this.
Now I could judge for myself? It seems fairly innocuous although one or two comments are iffy. They appear to treat the old guy with respect.........in my opinion. However, combining such a thing with the quips that are inherent in a show like QI and a laughing audience is walking into dangerous territory.
The comments from the half-Japanese author Roland Kelts deserve thought; that the reaction was kicked up by the far right in Japan. To quote Kelts; "One can easily see, if one speaks and understands English fluently, that the hosts are tiptoeing around the obvious offence, trying to strike a balance between humour and respect."
That made me think. How can I judge such a thing when I'm not Japanese? I don't know what it's like to live in a country that was A-bombed. I don't know the ins and outs of Japanese politics.
I do know that controversial comedy gets used as a football by those who have agendas.........on the left and the right.
....and maybe this is such a case.
The problem with comedy is that it will always tread the edges if it is to be any good. The show seemed to try to treat the subject with some respect.
...............but comedy and respect in the same room are an explosive mix aren't they.
I suppose an analogy would be for me to watch a Japanese QI which gently poked fun at a Japanese POW camp survivor. One of my Mum's uncles died in one of those.
I think I'd cringe but I don't think I'd complain given the time since the events concerned and if it was handled in a similar cautious - in my view - way.
Not easy. Life would be so much simpler if we could make black and white judgement calls.
.............but it would be so boring too.
........and on this my judgement still hovers. It was insensitive in parts but, for me, it is apparent that they try to be respectful; especially Fry. I tend toward the thought it's a deliberate over reaction by those with a political agenda. I don't think it merits the reaction it has got.
Now maybe you can judge me for seeming to sit on the fence. You'd be wrong. My judgement calls are for the important basics of life. They are precious and not to be thrown at every perceived affront I see or hear.
They are not for one offs that will be forgotten once the thing blows over.
We can form opinions, we can make judgements based on those opinions. It is unique and, to me, very precious. Like all precious things it has to be treated with respect.
I blogged about 'judgement' a few days ago using parallels in my own life.
Recently I've read and watched a case of a judgement being made in the public eye and its consequences. Another thoughtful blogpost made me think a little more about this too.
It's the QI A bomb furore. QI is a quiz programme focusing on the odd and quirky to give the contestants, mostly comedians, a chance to show their talents. In a nutshell the subject of Hiroshima came up linked with the death of a 93 year survivor who had survived both Hiroshima and Nagasaki. His survival was the kind of unique experience they use. A complaint came in from the Japanese Embassy and Stephen Fry, the compere, has had to axe a visit to Japan as a result.
On the face of it it does seem crass. A risky subject to combine with humour. However I hadn't seen the programme and I'm always a bit chary about forming opinions on the basis of other peoples' views or on something I haven't witnessed.
Too many of us judge without knowing the full story; a misuse of our unique ability. I did some digging.
I found this.
Now I could judge for myself? It seems fairly innocuous although one or two comments are iffy. They appear to treat the old guy with respect.........in my opinion. However, combining such a thing with the quips that are inherent in a show like QI and a laughing audience is walking into dangerous territory.
The comments from the half-Japanese author Roland Kelts deserve thought; that the reaction was kicked up by the far right in Japan. To quote Kelts; "One can easily see, if one speaks and understands English fluently, that the hosts are tiptoeing around the obvious offence, trying to strike a balance between humour and respect."
That made me think. How can I judge such a thing when I'm not Japanese? I don't know what it's like to live in a country that was A-bombed. I don't know the ins and outs of Japanese politics.
I do know that controversial comedy gets used as a football by those who have agendas.........on the left and the right.
....and maybe this is such a case.
The problem with comedy is that it will always tread the edges if it is to be any good. The show seemed to try to treat the subject with some respect.
...............but comedy and respect in the same room are an explosive mix aren't they.
I suppose an analogy would be for me to watch a Japanese QI which gently poked fun at a Japanese POW camp survivor. One of my Mum's uncles died in one of those.
I think I'd cringe but I don't think I'd complain given the time since the events concerned and if it was handled in a similar cautious - in my view - way.
Not easy. Life would be so much simpler if we could make black and white judgement calls.
.............but it would be so boring too.
........and on this my judgement still hovers. It was insensitive in parts but, for me, it is apparent that they try to be respectful; especially Fry. I tend toward the thought it's a deliberate over reaction by those with a political agenda. I don't think it merits the reaction it has got.
Now maybe you can judge me for seeming to sit on the fence. You'd be wrong. My judgement calls are for the important basics of life. They are precious and not to be thrown at every perceived affront I see or hear.
They are not for one offs that will be forgotten once the thing blows over.
Heaven
I got a 999 from a call box.
'I'm from heaven and I'm married to Queen Victoria.'
'OK, how can I help you?'
'Do you believe in Jesus?'
'Yes' I'd have said yes whatever my beliefs.
'Well, I've got him with me and I want to speak to someone in authority'
'What do you want to talk about?'
'Well,' and he sounded apologetic as he said this, 'it's raining outside and I was hoping you'd be able to organise a lift to somewhere warm and dry'
Hmmm. The man sounded pleasant but the problem with these strange calls is that if they don't get what they want they tend to keep calling. Luckily 999s give the address so I googled the street name.
'I'll see what I can find'. Always helps to spend a little time giving some help even if you're not sure what you're doing. He seemed happy with my response and developed the theme while I dug out Google Maps.
'It's wonderful you know. I feel like a king walking around knowing I'm from heaven.' He did sound very happy.
Eureka!
'I can see on my mapping system your are very near a Railway Station. It'll be lovely and warm in there.' I told him where it was in relation to his location.
'Oh, thank you so much.'
And then he hung up. With hindsight I should have asked to speak to Jesus but maybe not. It might have upset the pleasing ambience of the call. I found out later he'd rung a couple of times previously. He didn't any more.
He did sound happy to the point of being ecstatic. Maybe he had something. Be sane and miserable or off your head and happy. Which would you prefer?
'I'm from heaven and I'm married to Queen Victoria.'
'OK, how can I help you?'
'Do you believe in Jesus?'
'Yes' I'd have said yes whatever my beliefs.
'Well, I've got him with me and I want to speak to someone in authority'
'What do you want to talk about?'
'Well,' and he sounded apologetic as he said this, 'it's raining outside and I was hoping you'd be able to organise a lift to somewhere warm and dry'
Hmmm. The man sounded pleasant but the problem with these strange calls is that if they don't get what they want they tend to keep calling. Luckily 999s give the address so I googled the street name.
'I'll see what I can find'. Always helps to spend a little time giving some help even if you're not sure what you're doing. He seemed happy with my response and developed the theme while I dug out Google Maps.
'It's wonderful you know. I feel like a king walking around knowing I'm from heaven.' He did sound very happy.
Eureka!
'I can see on my mapping system your are very near a Railway Station. It'll be lovely and warm in there.' I told him where it was in relation to his location.
'Oh, thank you so much.'
And then he hung up. With hindsight I should have asked to speak to Jesus but maybe not. It might have upset the pleasing ambience of the call. I found out later he'd rung a couple of times previously. He didn't any more.
He did sound happy to the point of being ecstatic. Maybe he had something. Be sane and miserable or off your head and happy. Which would you prefer?
Thursday, 3 February 2011
Rat Arsed
The last post made me think of this.
Tonight I'll do the last of four full night shifts. Nine 'til seven. They are the strangest shifts. The start is quite normal but then as the day time shifts end and day time problems subside the surreal takes over. As the morning develops and people get up to work normality returns in the shape of the poor sod who has woken up to find his car stolen.
It is circular in its own way.
During the surreal hours, from three 'til approaching six in the morning the calls that come in tend to be strange and sometimes eery. The half a dozen youths loitering at the end of the street at four in the afternoon would not get noticed. At four in the morning they create a very different impression.
The gaps between calls only exacerbate the oddness of the hour, the isolation. After three there will be perhaps eight Call Handlers for the whole of the county and still we'll be sitting waiting............and waiting.
This set of shifts has seen Trivial Pursuit played. Six of us will be playing that while the other two may be dealing with a rape and a domestic.
Last night..........sorry, this morning..............we played a 'strange sexual encounter' game. There are all kinds of practices and they all have names. We had to guess what they were.
For instance, did you know what an Ass Hamster is? That's one of the easier ones to work out and yes, it does consist of sticking a Hamster up your arse. Apparently the movement is supposed to stimulate the parts that other......rodents?........cannot. However time is of the essence. They can only survive up there for three or four minutes.
That's when I came out with my quip, 'Gives a whole new meaning to the term Rat Arsed'.
Here's a harder one for you; Wolf Bagging .
We do live in an odd world.
Tonight I'll do the last of four full night shifts. Nine 'til seven. They are the strangest shifts. The start is quite normal but then as the day time shifts end and day time problems subside the surreal takes over. As the morning develops and people get up to work normality returns in the shape of the poor sod who has woken up to find his car stolen.
It is circular in its own way.
During the surreal hours, from three 'til approaching six in the morning the calls that come in tend to be strange and sometimes eery. The half a dozen youths loitering at the end of the street at four in the afternoon would not get noticed. At four in the morning they create a very different impression.
The gaps between calls only exacerbate the oddness of the hour, the isolation. After three there will be perhaps eight Call Handlers for the whole of the county and still we'll be sitting waiting............and waiting.
This set of shifts has seen Trivial Pursuit played. Six of us will be playing that while the other two may be dealing with a rape and a domestic.
Last night..........sorry, this morning..............we played a 'strange sexual encounter' game. There are all kinds of practices and they all have names. We had to guess what they were.
For instance, did you know what an Ass Hamster is? That's one of the easier ones to work out and yes, it does consist of sticking a Hamster up your arse. Apparently the movement is supposed to stimulate the parts that other......rodents?........cannot. However time is of the essence. They can only survive up there for three or four minutes.
That's when I came out with my quip, 'Gives a whole new meaning to the term Rat Arsed'.
Here's a harder one for you; Wolf Bagging .
We do live in an odd world.
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
Full Circle
When our children started to become more independent one of the ways they exercised that was to stop coming on days out with us. This applied to holidays too. In some ways that was disappointing as it symbolised their growing apart from us and was a physical demonstration of their increased independence. They needed to do it for themselves though and we never resisted it.
In fact Mrs AWB and I felt a kind of release. No more miserable teenagers in tow. We were left to each other and realised we still enjoyed each others' company. We could also go where we wanted to without having to cater for adolescent minds. It was almost like being teenagers ourselves again which has a nice irony about it given that it was our children's adolescence that had brought it about.
Life has a kind of circular quality. What goes round comes round.
I got a text off Son the other day whilst out and about. He wanted to share a day out, a picnic. He even suggested a destination.
Life sometimes has a neat symmetry to it.
In fact Mrs AWB and I felt a kind of release. No more miserable teenagers in tow. We were left to each other and realised we still enjoyed each others' company. We could also go where we wanted to without having to cater for adolescent minds. It was almost like being teenagers ourselves again which has a nice irony about it given that it was our children's adolescence that had brought it about.
Life has a kind of circular quality. What goes round comes round.
I got a text off Son the other day whilst out and about. He wanted to share a day out, a picnic. He even suggested a destination.
Life sometimes has a neat symmetry to it.
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
Delusions
Don't we all suffer them from time to time? I cannot imagine anyone not - even if it's a rare aberration. The obvious kind of thing is to believe someone is in love with you when they are not or vice versa.
Perhaps the worst kind of delusion is to think you don't have any LOL.
In my job we get to see, or should I say hear, the odd ones.
Last night, or should I say this morning, I heard one.
A lady was the subject of a phone conversation. She strongly believed that she was in a competition to win the hand of Prince Andrew. So determined was she to win this that she would search high and low for him.
......even to the point of entering gents urinals to look for him.
So for any male readers who may visit our county you have been warned. I just hope you don't look like Prince Andrew.
I wonder what she'd do if she found him?
Perhaps the worst kind of delusion is to think you don't have any LOL.
In my job we get to see, or should I say hear, the odd ones.
Last night, or should I say this morning, I heard one.
A lady was the subject of a phone conversation. She strongly believed that she was in a competition to win the hand of Prince Andrew. So determined was she to win this that she would search high and low for him.
......even to the point of entering gents urinals to look for him.
So for any male readers who may visit our county you have been warned. I just hope you don't look like Prince Andrew.
I wonder what she'd do if she found him?
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