At present, I have two essential chairs:
The first one is a delightful leather bound recliner, placed strategically in the front bay window, so that I can watch the world go by, and, enjoy my lovely new wide screen HD TV.
The TV was a gift from DT to alleviate my displeasure at my recent immobility.
I'm having a lovely time, shouting at the blethering Polititians, trying to convince us that, they're 'The man for the job!
The second chair, is a wheelchair, that I now have, in order to be perambulated around in, by DT.
Annoyingly, at present, I am unable to walk unaided, without either, falling over or swearing, due to searing pain, using words, even DT hasn't heard before!
The falling over is due to Peripheral Neuropathy and the pain is caused by multi- facet disc bulge, in the lower part of my spine......
Yes ouch!
It's a whole new world, sitting in a wheelchair.
As DT is pushing it, I am cautious, in putting my seat belt on.
On reflection, Knee pads and a Crash Helmet, should be worn too!
Once he has gently helped me into the chair, and ensured that I am comfortable, he takes off at the speed of Jensen Button, at a Grande Prix.
Not, taking into account the pot holes and uneven pavements ahead,..... Oh No!
It's full speed ahead with DT, with me hanging on for dear life, as he whizzes me along.
As I sit with my back to him, he can't hear me shrieking warnings of forthcoming perils ahead.
Although, judging by the amused looks on the faces of people passing by, the whole world could hear me....
Hmm......Selective hearing methinks!
The Chair is shortly to be modified with a power pack which greatly assists the person pushing.....Lord help me, I may be taken out one sunny day for a walk around our lovely local park, Calderstones in Liverpool, and end up in Oxford!
Well, I could always pop in, on Anne in Oxfordshire, for a 'nice cup of tea and a piece of cake' (with apologies to Worzel Gummidge)!
The back problems have nothing to do with the ongoing Rheumatoid Arthritis, which also gives me grief.
I'm determined the wheel chair is only a temporary measure and I am determined to be 'up and running', (well, walking gingerly), very soon.
Sorry about the major moan, but sometimes, just sometimes, a girl needs to 'off load' !
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Monday, 19 April 2010
Footprints.
This poem is dedicated to Leslie and DL who are undergoing a trying time.
One night a man had a dream.
He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD.
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand:
He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints.
He noticed that it also happened at the very lowest and saddest
times in his life
.
This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about about it.
"LORD", you said that once I decide to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why, when I needed you most, you would leave me".
The LORD, replied, "My precious, precious, child, I love you, and would never leave you. During your times times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints,it was then that I carried you".
This is one of my favourite writings, dear Leslie and Lorne.
I hope you both derive some comfort and strength from it.
Di.xx
Leslie can be found on her Blog site 'The Pedalogue'.
One night a man had a dream.
He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD.
Across the sky flashed scenes from his life.
For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand:
He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints.
He noticed that it also happened at the very lowest and saddest
times in his life
.
This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about about it.
"LORD", you said that once I decide to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why, when I needed you most, you would leave me".
The LORD, replied, "My precious, precious, child, I love you, and would never leave you. During your times times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints,it was then that I carried you".
This is one of my favourite writings, dear Leslie and Lorne.
I hope you both derive some comfort and strength from it.
Di.xx
Leslie can be found on her Blog site 'The Pedalogue'.
Friday, 1 January 2010
New Year 2010
Well, here we are 2010....
Never, have I been so glad as I am, to see the back end of 2009.
It has been an awful year, with the exceptions, of course, of baby Christian's early arrival in January, the marriage of his parents and the baptism of Christian and Olivia, in July.
2009 is the year I shall remember for 'sacking' my Consultant Rheumatologist, he replaced the previous one who had been forced to retire, by the inept and poorly qualified, so called PCT managers.
In his place was a poor excuse for a Consultant.
I believe, that to cut costs, many other,senior and highly qualified Consultants have been 'retired off' to be replaced by younger and less experienced people.
Many of them foreigners, with a very poor grasp of the English language and culture.
In my case there was a complete breakdown in communication, causing my Rheumatoid Arthritis to deteriorate drastically, which, in turn has caused me a lot of uneccessary pain and anguish.
However, there is an upside in all of this, I managed to get a referal to another Rheumatologist at another hospital.
Totally different scenario!
My new Consultant is brilliant, he was quite appalled to hear of my poor treatment by the previous fellow, and immediately ordered every available test including, MRI and Bone Density scans, also Neuropathy tests etc.
All this should have been arranged 18 months ago!
Ironically, my new chap trained under my retired Consultant and holds him in high esteem. I shall be seeing him again in 9 days time....
'Fingers crossed' for some good results!
So, Here's to 2010....Things can only get better...
Oops! I shouldn't really have used that little expression, as it was used as a slogan by Blair/Brown's NuLab spinmeisters in 1997!
However, being the eternal optimist, I believe the end is in sight for the NuLab machine and we will get a new and honest,(I hope), Government in 2010.
Then, and only then....
Things will get better!
I wish all my friends and fellow bloggers...
A Very Happy Peaceful and Prosperous New Year and thank you all for your kind support, during what can only be described as an 'Annus Horribus
Di.x
Never, have I been so glad as I am, to see the back end of 2009.
It has been an awful year, with the exceptions, of course, of baby Christian's early arrival in January, the marriage of his parents and the baptism of Christian and Olivia, in July.
2009 is the year I shall remember for 'sacking' my Consultant Rheumatologist, he replaced the previous one who had been forced to retire, by the inept and poorly qualified, so called PCT managers.
In his place was a poor excuse for a Consultant.
I believe, that to cut costs, many other,senior and highly qualified Consultants have been 'retired off' to be replaced by younger and less experienced people.
Many of them foreigners, with a very poor grasp of the English language and culture.
In my case there was a complete breakdown in communication, causing my Rheumatoid Arthritis to deteriorate drastically, which, in turn has caused me a lot of uneccessary pain and anguish.
However, there is an upside in all of this, I managed to get a referal to another Rheumatologist at another hospital.
Totally different scenario!
My new Consultant is brilliant, he was quite appalled to hear of my poor treatment by the previous fellow, and immediately ordered every available test including, MRI and Bone Density scans, also Neuropathy tests etc.
All this should have been arranged 18 months ago!
Ironically, my new chap trained under my retired Consultant and holds him in high esteem. I shall be seeing him again in 9 days time....
'Fingers crossed' for some good results!
So, Here's to 2010....Things can only get better...
Oops! I shouldn't really have used that little expression, as it was used as a slogan by Blair/Brown's NuLab spinmeisters in 1997!
However, being the eternal optimist, I believe the end is in sight for the NuLab machine and we will get a new and honest,(I hope), Government in 2010.
Then, and only then....
Things will get better!
I wish all my friends and fellow bloggers...
A Very Happy Peaceful and Prosperous New Year and thank you all for your kind support, during what can only be described as an 'Annus Horribus
Di.x
Thursday, 3 December 2009
The Pantomime season is here
As Christmas draws nearer I'd like to tell you about my 'thespian days', which
began at The Pillar Club, held in a grand old house in West Derby Village, called Lowlands.
It played host to many talents, including The Beatles and other well known Liverpool Groups of the 'Sixties'.
Local young people gathered there during the week to play table tennis, drink coffee and generally 'hang out', doing things that teenagers do!
From these activities a drama group was formed, which was to become The Basement Players.
Each year a seasonal Pantomine was produced.
This was my first experience of 'treading the boards' and..... 'oh boy', what fun we had!
Along with my best friend Jenny, we were plucked from obscurity and put in the chorus line.
Oooh....... The smell of the grease paint and the roar of the crowd...
*A star was born*......
I was well and truly hooked and just loved strutting my stuff in front of a live audience.
Flushed with our first success, Jenny and I were picked for the next production, playing the leading roles of Principal Boy and Principal Girl.
My role was as Jack in 'Jack And The Beanstalk' and Jenny played a village girl who was the leading lady.
For my friends from overseas, who may not be acquainted with the traditions of British Pantomime, traditionally, some male and female roles are reversed, thus, the roles of Principal Boy is played by a female and the Dame is played by a male.
Strange, I know, but after all.....
It is a British tradition!!!
In the Pantomime 'Jack and the Beanstalk', we had a cow called Daisy, she was made by a costume maker called Elsie, who made all our costumes, she was absolutely brilliant at her work and turned out the most amazing outfits at the turn of a needle.
Daisy the cow was made in two pieces and was manned by two guys called Tom and Dave, Tom as the front legs and head and Dave as the back end.
Now then, Dave was rather too fond of a drink or three, and on the last night of the Panto he called at the local Inn for a drop of refreshment!
After he had donned the rear end part of Daisy's costume, he weaved all over the stage, in a state of inebriation, trying to dance in step with Tom at the front end.
To say he was legless was an understatement!
Eventually he found his feet and managed to dance in time until, at the very end of the routine, he stepped backwards over the footlights and ended up dangling over the drummer, directly below in the auditorium......
The audience went wild with applause and laughter, thinking it was part of the act, as he was unceremoniously hauled back on stage by Tom (the front end), who was absolutely furious with him.
Dave, inspired by the rapturous applause, attempted to repeat the performance, only to be tharwted by Tom, who gave him a sharp kick in the shins, sending him howling to the floor and ending up in a 'heap of Cow' on the hapless drummer below.
Fortunately, nobody was seriously injured and the Panto carried on.
I've heard the Nursery rhyme about the cow jumping over the moon but not jumping over a drummer!
Merry Christmas everyone and all good wishes for a prosperous and peaceful New Year.
Di.x
began at The Pillar Club, held in a grand old house in West Derby Village, called Lowlands.
It played host to many talents, including The Beatles and other well known Liverpool Groups of the 'Sixties'.
Local young people gathered there during the week to play table tennis, drink coffee and generally 'hang out', doing things that teenagers do!
From these activities a drama group was formed, which was to become The Basement Players.
Each year a seasonal Pantomine was produced.
This was my first experience of 'treading the boards' and..... 'oh boy', what fun we had!
Along with my best friend Jenny, we were plucked from obscurity and put in the chorus line.
Oooh....... The smell of the grease paint and the roar of the crowd...
*A star was born*......
I was well and truly hooked and just loved strutting my stuff in front of a live audience.
Flushed with our first success, Jenny and I were picked for the next production, playing the leading roles of Principal Boy and Principal Girl.
My role was as Jack in 'Jack And The Beanstalk' and Jenny played a village girl who was the leading lady.
For my friends from overseas, who may not be acquainted with the traditions of British Pantomime, traditionally, some male and female roles are reversed, thus, the roles of Principal Boy is played by a female and the Dame is played by a male.
Strange, I know, but after all.....
It is a British tradition!!!
In the Pantomime 'Jack and the Beanstalk', we had a cow called Daisy, she was made by a costume maker called Elsie, who made all our costumes, she was absolutely brilliant at her work and turned out the most amazing outfits at the turn of a needle.
Daisy the cow was made in two pieces and was manned by two guys called Tom and Dave, Tom as the front legs and head and Dave as the back end.
Now then, Dave was rather too fond of a drink or three, and on the last night of the Panto he called at the local Inn for a drop of refreshment!
After he had donned the rear end part of Daisy's costume, he weaved all over the stage, in a state of inebriation, trying to dance in step with Tom at the front end.
To say he was legless was an understatement!
Eventually he found his feet and managed to dance in time until, at the very end of the routine, he stepped backwards over the footlights and ended up dangling over the drummer, directly below in the auditorium......
The audience went wild with applause and laughter, thinking it was part of the act, as he was unceremoniously hauled back on stage by Tom (the front end), who was absolutely furious with him.
Dave, inspired by the rapturous applause, attempted to repeat the performance, only to be tharwted by Tom, who gave him a sharp kick in the shins, sending him howling to the floor and ending up in a 'heap of Cow' on the hapless drummer below.
Fortunately, nobody was seriously injured and the Panto carried on.
I've heard the Nursery rhyme about the cow jumping over the moon but not jumping over a drummer!
Merry Christmas everyone and all good wishes for a prosperous and peaceful New Year.
Di.x
Saturday, 24 October 2009
Viva Espania! Part one.
What a lovely time DT and I had in La Mata, a seaside resort at the top end of Torevieja, Costa Blanca.
We stayed in an apartment which is owned by a friend.
It was very comfortable with a spacious patio area that overlooked well manicured gardens, with a large swimming pool.
There were fine views of the Mediterranean too.
I love to be by the sea, I suppose that living in Liverpool, one of the world's major seaports, it's in my blood.
My Great Grandfather was a Captain in the Merchant Navy and used to carry goods to many far off places, including Southern Spain, where we have holidayed on many occasions.
Everything was going 'swimmingly well' until our second day at the beach, when, DT decided to launch himself off his sunlounger.
He has a poor 'track record' of the said item!
I had my nose in a book, when there was an almighty ripping sound.
Turning around, I saw him with his backside firmly planted in the sand, and the remnants of the bed and aluminium frame, encircling his stocky frame.
He was firmly stuck, much to the amusement of the diners, at the adjacent beach bar. I could do little to help, firstly because I was convulsed with laughter and secondly, I am physically incapable of getting up of a sunlounger without my darling's assistance.
This is due to the Rheumatoid Arthritis that has depleted my mobility.
The more he struggled, the more entrenched he became. He managed to 'turn turtle', only to become even more firmly stuck.
Imagine the scenario...He looked like a beached turtle with the sunbed on his back.
Fortunately an enormous passing German chap saw his plight and helped disentangle him.
His name was Harry Neuman, and his laughter was as large as his six foot six inch frame!
It's the first time we've managed to make a German laugh whilst on holiday.
We treated him and his lovely wife to drinks at the beach bar.
I don't know what it is about DT but he has an uncanny knack of keeping me suitably entertained, albeit unwittingly!
On our way back to the apartment, we discovered a little roadside shop that sold all kinds of delicacies, including chickens cooked on a rotiserie.
That evening we dined on assorted tapas, followed by a delicious hot juicy chicken, stuffed with fresh herbs and smothered with the basting juices from the rotisserie.
I served delicious, huge squashy, whole baked local tomatoes and tiny potatoes, baked and sprinkled with sea salt, fresh from the local salt lakes.
Also I served a dish of baby padron peppers roasted in olive oil and again, sprinkled with sea salt.
All this was washed down with several glasses of a Spanish Rose Cava.
The end of a highly entertaining and perfect day.
We stayed in an apartment which is owned by a friend.
It was very comfortable with a spacious patio area that overlooked well manicured gardens, with a large swimming pool.
There were fine views of the Mediterranean too.
I love to be by the sea, I suppose that living in Liverpool, one of the world's major seaports, it's in my blood.
My Great Grandfather was a Captain in the Merchant Navy and used to carry goods to many far off places, including Southern Spain, where we have holidayed on many occasions.
Everything was going 'swimmingly well' until our second day at the beach, when, DT decided to launch himself off his sunlounger.
He has a poor 'track record' of the said item!
I had my nose in a book, when there was an almighty ripping sound.
Turning around, I saw him with his backside firmly planted in the sand, and the remnants of the bed and aluminium frame, encircling his stocky frame.
He was firmly stuck, much to the amusement of the diners, at the adjacent beach bar. I could do little to help, firstly because I was convulsed with laughter and secondly, I am physically incapable of getting up of a sunlounger without my darling's assistance.
This is due to the Rheumatoid Arthritis that has depleted my mobility.
The more he struggled, the more entrenched he became. He managed to 'turn turtle', only to become even more firmly stuck.
Imagine the scenario...He looked like a beached turtle with the sunbed on his back.
Fortunately an enormous passing German chap saw his plight and helped disentangle him.
His name was Harry Neuman, and his laughter was as large as his six foot six inch frame!
It's the first time we've managed to make a German laugh whilst on holiday.
We treated him and his lovely wife to drinks at the beach bar.
I don't know what it is about DT but he has an uncanny knack of keeping me suitably entertained, albeit unwittingly!
On our way back to the apartment, we discovered a little roadside shop that sold all kinds of delicacies, including chickens cooked on a rotiserie.
That evening we dined on assorted tapas, followed by a delicious hot juicy chicken, stuffed with fresh herbs and smothered with the basting juices from the rotisserie.
I served delicious, huge squashy, whole baked local tomatoes and tiny potatoes, baked and sprinkled with sea salt, fresh from the local salt lakes.
Also I served a dish of baby padron peppers roasted in olive oil and again, sprinkled with sea salt.
All this was washed down with several glasses of a Spanish Rose Cava.
The end of a highly entertaining and perfect day.
Friday, 9 October 2009
Adiòs amigos'
Darling Trubes and I are off to sunny Spain for ten days for a long overdue holiday.
We are staying in a place called La Mata on the Costa Blanca.
Most holidays come at a price, particularly when, one's husband doesn't pay attention, when being given precise instructions by 'she who must be obeyed'!
I spent some time on my PC trying to get a 'best price' for Easy Jet flights to Alicante, which is approximately a thirty minute drive to La Mata.
After finding the best price, DT was given precise details and requested to go to his
den to complete the booking.
Two hours later he reappeared clutching the booking confirmation, proudly announcing that by slightly altering the dates, he had managed to shave £70 off my original costs.
Heaven knows why it took him two hours.
Nothing to do with checking the football scores on his PC perchance!!
Two weeks later, DT was discussing having got such a good deal, on the flights with the friend, who was kindly leasing out his holiday apartment to us, at a very reasonable cost.
Shock horror! He had booked the flights to Malaga instead of Alicante, which is a five hour drive from our destination, he had also booked the hire car to be collected at Malaga.
He tootled off back to his den to change the bookings...
At an extra cost of an extra £150 the deed was done....
If only men would listen, when they they know, we girls are always right!
Moral to this story...
If you want something doing....Do it yourself!
We are staying in a place called La Mata on the Costa Blanca.
Most holidays come at a price, particularly when, one's husband doesn't pay attention, when being given precise instructions by 'she who must be obeyed'!
I spent some time on my PC trying to get a 'best price' for Easy Jet flights to Alicante, which is approximately a thirty minute drive to La Mata.
After finding the best price, DT was given precise details and requested to go to his
den to complete the booking.
Two hours later he reappeared clutching the booking confirmation, proudly announcing that by slightly altering the dates, he had managed to shave £70 off my original costs.
Heaven knows why it took him two hours.
Nothing to do with checking the football scores on his PC perchance!!
Two weeks later, DT was discussing having got such a good deal, on the flights with the friend, who was kindly leasing out his holiday apartment to us, at a very reasonable cost.
Shock horror! He had booked the flights to Malaga instead of Alicante, which is a five hour drive from our destination, he had also booked the hire car to be collected at Malaga.
He tootled off back to his den to change the bookings...
At an extra cost of an extra £150 the deed was done....
If only men would listen, when they they know, we girls are always right!
Moral to this story...
If you want something doing....Do it yourself!
Friday, 4 September 2009
A Magical Mystery Tour .
Roll up, Roll up..
I'm Coming To Take you Away, Take You Away.....
There was a music store in Liverpool called Nems, it was owned by the
Epstein Family and managed by.....Yes you've guessed.....
Brian Epstein, later to become The Beatles Manager.
I've also met him, on several occasions.
Talk about 'name droppers' !
Brian was a charming man, although he was the MD, he would often work
in the Record Department, when it was busy.
There used to be booths 'in store' where you could listen to tracks of
selected records.
Needless to say, each time The Beatles released a new single, the store
would be inundated with bright eyed and excited teenage girls, bopping
away to the music.
This was at the time Brian had just signed The Beatles, and several other
Merseyside groups.
Sadly, later, he moved down to London, he was very much missed in the store,
by his Staff and devoted customers.
Although, his success in managing so many artistes, brought him fame and fortune,
I believe, deep down, he was a very lonely man.
Perhaps, had he stayed in his beloved City, with his loving family, he would have
been happier, and maybe, his life may not have ended, so tragically and prematurely.
Forever in our memories Brian. R.I.P.
Nems Music Store closed in the early eighties.
Now Back to The Cavern.
We used to do a funny dance called 'The Cavern Stomp', which involved partners holding opposite hands ie, left hand linked to partners right hand and then launching or swinging ourselves from left to right, in time to the beat.
I think this crazy dance, originated from the times when The Cavern was formerly a jazz club then a skiffle club.
John Lennon and a couple of others formed The Quarrymen, which was the group that was to become The Beatles. I didn't get to see them perform in those days, because I was a bit too young to go to into 'seedy' clubs, as deemed by my parents!
The next crazy dance arrived, and that was called 'The Shake' which was immortalised by The Swinging Blue Jeans song 'The Hippy Hippy Shake'.
We really must have looked manic, twitching and shaking all over the place but we all thought, we were 'dead cool'.
Other clubs we used to frequent were, The Mardi Gras, The Downbeat and The Iron Door.
The Swinging Blue Jeans, Gerry And The Pacemakers, The Searchers, Billy j Krammer, The Four Most, The Big Three, Rory Storm and The Hurricanes, plus many more well known groups performed at these venues.
The Rolling Stones played at The Iron Door Club too.
They were 'Fab' times and it all started with 'The fab Four' !
From Penny Lane to Memory Lane!
Truly the 'Golden decade' of beat music, in The Swinging City....Liverpool.
The annual 'Matthew Street Festival' was held last weekend and on nearly every Street corner, tribute bands were performing all The famous Liverpool bands'songs
We had 300,000 visitors and the atmosphere was just magical!
I'm Coming To Take you Away, Take You Away.....
There was a music store in Liverpool called Nems, it was owned by the
Epstein Family and managed by.....Yes you've guessed.....
Brian Epstein, later to become The Beatles Manager.
I've also met him, on several occasions.
Talk about 'name droppers' !
Brian was a charming man, although he was the MD, he would often work
in the Record Department, when it was busy.
There used to be booths 'in store' where you could listen to tracks of
selected records.
Needless to say, each time The Beatles released a new single, the store
would be inundated with bright eyed and excited teenage girls, bopping
away to the music.
This was at the time Brian had just signed The Beatles, and several other
Merseyside groups.
Sadly, later, he moved down to London, he was very much missed in the store,
by his Staff and devoted customers.
Although, his success in managing so many artistes, brought him fame and fortune,
I believe, deep down, he was a very lonely man.
Perhaps, had he stayed in his beloved City, with his loving family, he would have
been happier, and maybe, his life may not have ended, so tragically and prematurely.
Forever in our memories Brian. R.I.P.
Nems Music Store closed in the early eighties.
Now Back to The Cavern.
We used to do a funny dance called 'The Cavern Stomp', which involved partners holding opposite hands ie, left hand linked to partners right hand and then launching or swinging ourselves from left to right, in time to the beat.
I think this crazy dance, originated from the times when The Cavern was formerly a jazz club then a skiffle club.
John Lennon and a couple of others formed The Quarrymen, which was the group that was to become The Beatles. I didn't get to see them perform in those days, because I was a bit too young to go to into 'seedy' clubs, as deemed by my parents!
The next crazy dance arrived, and that was called 'The Shake' which was immortalised by The Swinging Blue Jeans song 'The Hippy Hippy Shake'.
We really must have looked manic, twitching and shaking all over the place but we all thought, we were 'dead cool'.
Other clubs we used to frequent were, The Mardi Gras, The Downbeat and The Iron Door.
The Swinging Blue Jeans, Gerry And The Pacemakers, The Searchers, Billy j Krammer, The Four Most, The Big Three, Rory Storm and The Hurricanes, plus many more well known groups performed at these venues.
The Rolling Stones played at The Iron Door Club too.
They were 'Fab' times and it all started with 'The fab Four' !
From Penny Lane to Memory Lane!
Truly the 'Golden decade' of beat music, in The Swinging City....Liverpool.
The annual 'Matthew Street Festival' was held last weekend and on nearly every Street corner, tribute bands were performing all The famous Liverpool bands'songs
We had 300,000 visitors and the atmosphere was just magical!
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
She was Just Seventeen and She Loves you, Yeay Yeay Yeay.!!
Dedicated to my friend Scroblene and apologies to those who may have read part of this tale already.
I was just seventeen, if you know what I mean!
One day, whilst being driving through the City of Liverpool we were stuck in a traffic jam. Eventually, we pulled alongside a beautiful, silver, Aston Martin DB6.
Oh joy, if, that wasn't enough, Paul McCartney was driving it and his father was sitting alongside him.
He wound down his window and said 'Hello'.
When I had gathered my equilibrium, I told him how much I loved his latest record.
He asked me if I would like to hear it, then pressed a button on his eight track,
stereo cassette player, a thing unknown in standard cars in those days He and played for me.....
'She Loves You'.
Well, 'You know that can't be bad'. Yeah yeah yeah... I nearly passed out with delight.
He signed a Photo for me, whilst his Dad, proudly looked on.
Thereon, whenever The Beatles sang 'She was just Seventeen', (I Saw Her Standing There), I was convinced it was just for me.
I think most teenagers, particarly from Merseyside, in the 'Sixties' went to the Cavern Club in Matthew Street. My workmates and I used to go frequently during our lunch breaks.
Quite often, in those days Cilla Black was the 'Cloakroom Girl'. She also worked at the snack bar, serving hot dogs and soup. She often used to get up and sing with, whichever group, was playing at the time. She had a belting voice but let herself down with her strong Scouse accent. Not surprisingly, she was the daughter of a docker and lived in 'Scotty Road', where many believe Maggie May hailed from.
If you think Cilla speaks badly now, you should have heard her then.
As the saying goes, 'She was as rough as a Badgers bum'.
Maggie May was a well known 'Lady of the Streets' and plied her trade along Lime Street and the docks, along with her friends. Business was brisk as Liverpool was a thriving Seaport, as it is now but employs fewer people.
There was always a ship in port for Maggie and her chums!
I only saw the Beatles once at The Cavern, just as they were on the cusp of fame.
The atmosphere was electric and we were packed in like sardines. The friend I was with at the time, passed out, and was lifted above heads to get her out into the fresh air.
On reflection, The Cavern must have been a deathtrap. There was only one way in and one way out.
The drummer in the Beatles at that time was Pete Best who's Mother owned the Cazbah Club in West Derby Village in the leafy suburbs of the City. It was never really established why he was ousted by Ringo, I thought he was a much better drummer.
The Mardi Gras, Downbeat and Iron Door Clubs in Liverpool were host to many famous Merseyside groups, including The Searchers, Billy J Krammer and The Dakotas, The Swinging Blue Jeans, Gerry and the Pacemakers, The Big Three and the ubiquitous Cilla Black.
On the day The Beatles returned to Liverpool, for a civic reception and the premier of their film, A Hard Days Night,
My friend and I were at the front of the crowd, opposite The Town Hall.
The policemen on duty, let us under the barrier to avoid the crush, so we were almost at arms length, when they stepped out of their limousine.
They appeared on the Balcony and the crowd went wild.
My parents swore they could hear the roar five miles away,
in West Derby where we lived.
I was hoarse for days...
That was more than A Hard Day's Night!
Golden days from the life of Trubes.
I was just seventeen, if you know what I mean!
One day, whilst being driving through the City of Liverpool we were stuck in a traffic jam. Eventually, we pulled alongside a beautiful, silver, Aston Martin DB6.
Oh joy, if, that wasn't enough, Paul McCartney was driving it and his father was sitting alongside him.
He wound down his window and said 'Hello'.
When I had gathered my equilibrium, I told him how much I loved his latest record.
He asked me if I would like to hear it, then pressed a button on his eight track,
stereo cassette player, a thing unknown in standard cars in those days He and played for me.....
'She Loves You'.
Well, 'You know that can't be bad'. Yeah yeah yeah... I nearly passed out with delight.
He signed a Photo for me, whilst his Dad, proudly looked on.
Thereon, whenever The Beatles sang 'She was just Seventeen', (I Saw Her Standing There), I was convinced it was just for me.
I think most teenagers, particarly from Merseyside, in the 'Sixties' went to the Cavern Club in Matthew Street. My workmates and I used to go frequently during our lunch breaks.
Quite often, in those days Cilla Black was the 'Cloakroom Girl'. She also worked at the snack bar, serving hot dogs and soup. She often used to get up and sing with, whichever group, was playing at the time. She had a belting voice but let herself down with her strong Scouse accent. Not surprisingly, she was the daughter of a docker and lived in 'Scotty Road', where many believe Maggie May hailed from.
If you think Cilla speaks badly now, you should have heard her then.
As the saying goes, 'She was as rough as a Badgers bum'.
Maggie May was a well known 'Lady of the Streets' and plied her trade along Lime Street and the docks, along with her friends. Business was brisk as Liverpool was a thriving Seaport, as it is now but employs fewer people.
There was always a ship in port for Maggie and her chums!
I only saw the Beatles once at The Cavern, just as they were on the cusp of fame.
The atmosphere was electric and we were packed in like sardines. The friend I was with at the time, passed out, and was lifted above heads to get her out into the fresh air.
On reflection, The Cavern must have been a deathtrap. There was only one way in and one way out.
The drummer in the Beatles at that time was Pete Best who's Mother owned the Cazbah Club in West Derby Village in the leafy suburbs of the City. It was never really established why he was ousted by Ringo, I thought he was a much better drummer.
The Mardi Gras, Downbeat and Iron Door Clubs in Liverpool were host to many famous Merseyside groups, including The Searchers, Billy J Krammer and The Dakotas, The Swinging Blue Jeans, Gerry and the Pacemakers, The Big Three and the ubiquitous Cilla Black.
On the day The Beatles returned to Liverpool, for a civic reception and the premier of their film, A Hard Days Night,
My friend and I were at the front of the crowd, opposite The Town Hall.
The policemen on duty, let us under the barrier to avoid the crush, so we were almost at arms length, when they stepped out of their limousine.
They appeared on the Balcony and the crowd went wild.
My parents swore they could hear the roar five miles away,
in West Derby where we lived.
I was hoarse for days...
That was more than A Hard Day's Night!
Golden days from the life of Trubes.
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
Two Baptisms and One Wedding.
On Saturday 4th July 2009 our darling Daughter Ingrid married her long time love and partner of 12 years Michael.
The following day their two lovely babies were baptised into the Roman Catholic Church, Olivia Grace aged 3 and Christian Zane aged 6 months.
At the wedding, Ingrid was given away by her Step-Daddy, my beloved Darling Trubes.
Certainly brought tears to my eyes when DT walked her down the aisle.
Olivia was the chief bridesmaid and Christian was the best man. The Registrar commented that Christian was the youngest best man that he could ever recall.
The ceremony was particularly moving, bearing in mind Christian's traumatic arrival in January.
When the ceremony was over Olivia danced down the aisle swinging on her parents arms and Christian exercised his perogative, as babies do, and slept soundly.
He was, however, awake during the proceedings, and tried to join in on one occasion, only to be unceremoniously carried off by an auntie, for refuelling!
The Reception was held in a local hall, which started with an advance party for 35 children to celebrate the forthcoming Baptisms.
A childrens' entertainer was there keeping them occupied...really great fun, (honestly).
It's amazing how a glass of champers or six charges the spirits. All the children went home at 7pm and the adults carried on with the celebrations.
A truly perfect day for a perfectly matched couple.
Next day Olivia and Christian were welcomed into the church with their four Aunties as Godparents.
Although I was raised in the Church of England, I truly felt a strong calling to the Roman Catholic faith. The service was inspiring.
Who knows? A conversion could be in order!
Afterwards we celebrated, yet again, with a barbecue and .......yes you've guessed....more Champagne....Absolutely fabulous!....hic..
The following day their two lovely babies were baptised into the Roman Catholic Church, Olivia Grace aged 3 and Christian Zane aged 6 months.
At the wedding, Ingrid was given away by her Step-Daddy, my beloved Darling Trubes.
Certainly brought tears to my eyes when DT walked her down the aisle.
Olivia was the chief bridesmaid and Christian was the best man. The Registrar commented that Christian was the youngest best man that he could ever recall.
The ceremony was particularly moving, bearing in mind Christian's traumatic arrival in January.
When the ceremony was over Olivia danced down the aisle swinging on her parents arms and Christian exercised his perogative, as babies do, and slept soundly.
He was, however, awake during the proceedings, and tried to join in on one occasion, only to be unceremoniously carried off by an auntie, for refuelling!
The Reception was held in a local hall, which started with an advance party for 35 children to celebrate the forthcoming Baptisms.
A childrens' entertainer was there keeping them occupied...really great fun, (honestly).
It's amazing how a glass of champers or six charges the spirits. All the children went home at 7pm and the adults carried on with the celebrations.
A truly perfect day for a perfectly matched couple.
Next day Olivia and Christian were welcomed into the church with their four Aunties as Godparents.
Although I was raised in the Church of England, I truly felt a strong calling to the Roman Catholic faith. The service was inspiring.
Who knows? A conversion could be in order!
Afterwards we celebrated, yet again, with a barbecue and .......yes you've guessed....more Champagne....Absolutely fabulous!....hic..
Monday, 16 March 2009
News up-date and stuff. Dedicated to EK.
At last I'm back on line after nearly four weeks without my PC, I had eighty eight e-mails to deal with and all kinds of rubish to clear before I could even begin to read all my favourite sites.
Not being able to do my weekly Ocado shop and having to struggle around the local Sainsbury's was no laughing matter, especially for a 'gal' like moi in such fragile health.
What's that expression now?....'The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak'!
Thankyou to everyone who has been enquiring of my well being and that of baby Christian.
Christian is really thriving and gaining weight and his Mama is really full of beans!
My brave girl has bounced back after such a traumatic time in childbirth. My heart swells with pride each time, I see or think of her and Christian.
RIP Rocket.
We've lost our family pet rabbit Rocket to a murderous fox from the local woods. It'd been hanging around for a few weeks obviously eyeing up the ingredients for his next banquet.
Although our garden was secure a neighbour had inadvertently removed a panel in the
fence and off Rocket went. He was murdered in another neighbour's garden and I assume, carried off to the woods.
There was nothing left but a bit of white and gold fur, thankfully no blood and guts!
He'd lived to the grand old age of 9 years. You can imagine how sad we feel....
I hope the Foxes enjoyed their banquet.
Heaven knows what we will tell the Grandchildren as they loved him so much, they played football with him and he alway patiently let them stroke him, not always as gently as instructed.
We are now down to two pets, Princess Chloe the Cat and Chico the Cockatiel.
I know all this is all very trivial but you did ask!
EK will know why I've dedicated this to him.
Anyway it's so good to be back on-line again. Now, I'm going to have a good read of all my favourite sites.
Not being able to do my weekly Ocado shop and having to struggle around the local Sainsbury's was no laughing matter, especially for a 'gal' like moi in such fragile health.
What's that expression now?....'The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak'!
Thankyou to everyone who has been enquiring of my well being and that of baby Christian.
Christian is really thriving and gaining weight and his Mama is really full of beans!
My brave girl has bounced back after such a traumatic time in childbirth. My heart swells with pride each time, I see or think of her and Christian.
RIP Rocket.
We've lost our family pet rabbit Rocket to a murderous fox from the local woods. It'd been hanging around for a few weeks obviously eyeing up the ingredients for his next banquet.
Although our garden was secure a neighbour had inadvertently removed a panel in the
fence and off Rocket went. He was murdered in another neighbour's garden and I assume, carried off to the woods.
There was nothing left but a bit of white and gold fur, thankfully no blood and guts!
He'd lived to the grand old age of 9 years. You can imagine how sad we feel....
I hope the Foxes enjoyed their banquet.
Heaven knows what we will tell the Grandchildren as they loved him so much, they played football with him and he alway patiently let them stroke him, not always as gently as instructed.
We are now down to two pets, Princess Chloe the Cat and Chico the Cockatiel.
I know all this is all very trivial but you did ask!
EK will know why I've dedicated this to him.
Anyway it's so good to be back on-line again. Now, I'm going to have a good read of all my favourite sites.
Monday, 2 February 2009
Joy of Joys. More baby News
Our Darling new Baby Grandson Christian is home from hospital. He came home on Friday with his Mummy Ingrid.
Today is Ingrid's 36th Birthday so lots of celebrations all around.
Christian has regained his birth weight and is feeding very well.
Apparently premature babies don't always know how to suckle properly, hence the reason for them having to be tube fed for a while. This all depends on how premature they are.
Anyway, he is feeding well on Mummy's milk and quite content. They had bacon and eggs for breakfast and I believe rump steak is on order for dinner!
We are all so grateful to The Liverpool Women's Hospital for the wonderful professional and loving care they received. The Neo Natal unit there depends on lots of Charitable Donations. They look after Mums and Babies from far and near.
When I telephoned Ingrid this morning to wish her 'Happy Birthday', I also wished her a 'wonderful day', she simply replied, 'Every day is a wonderful day now Mama'.
Such touching words from my wonderful brave Daughter. I understood exactly what she meant, the outcome could have been so different.
I feel I am the luckiest Mother and Grandmother ever. My heart sings.
People often say that having Grandchildren is so special and I totally agree
Thank you God, thank you.....
Off to the wonderful Liverpool Anglican Cathedral on Sunday to give thanks.
Today is Ingrid's 36th Birthday so lots of celebrations all around.
Christian has regained his birth weight and is feeding very well.
Apparently premature babies don't always know how to suckle properly, hence the reason for them having to be tube fed for a while. This all depends on how premature they are.
Anyway, he is feeding well on Mummy's milk and quite content. They had bacon and eggs for breakfast and I believe rump steak is on order for dinner!
We are all so grateful to The Liverpool Women's Hospital for the wonderful professional and loving care they received. The Neo Natal unit there depends on lots of Charitable Donations. They look after Mums and Babies from far and near.
When I telephoned Ingrid this morning to wish her 'Happy Birthday', I also wished her a 'wonderful day', she simply replied, 'Every day is a wonderful day now Mama'.
Such touching words from my wonderful brave Daughter. I understood exactly what she meant, the outcome could have been so different.
I feel I am the luckiest Mother and Grandmother ever. My heart sings.
People often say that having Grandchildren is so special and I totally agree
Thank you God, thank you.....
Off to the wonderful Liverpool Anglican Cathedral on Sunday to give thanks.
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
A New Grandchild
Our daughter Ingrid has given birth to a beautiful baby boy on Wednesday 14th January 2009.
His name is Christian and weighed in at 5lbs.1oz.
He was born 8 weeks prematurely and was in the high dependency unit until yesterday.
He is now out of the incubator and in his own cot and doing very well.
The birth was very traumatic as Ingrid haemorrhaged and the Doctors had to perform a C section to save her life.
Ingrid is a lot better now, she had to have several blood transfusions to bring her blood count up.
I cannot begin to tell you how relieved we all are, this has been a terribly worrying time.
Christian is a little brother for Olivia aged 2years 9months.
His name is Christian and weighed in at 5lbs.1oz.
He was born 8 weeks prematurely and was in the high dependency unit until yesterday.
He is now out of the incubator and in his own cot and doing very well.
The birth was very traumatic as Ingrid haemorrhaged and the Doctors had to perform a C section to save her life.
Ingrid is a lot better now, she had to have several blood transfusions to bring her blood count up.
I cannot begin to tell you how relieved we all are, this has been a terribly worrying time.
Christian is a little brother for Olivia aged 2years 9months.
Saturday, 20 December 2008
Christmas Titbits and a Yuletide ode
Oh Dear!
No Santa and sleigh from The Rotary Club's annual collection this year. Wait for it....Yes it's been cancelled on the grounds of 'Elf and Safety' !
To quote Littlejohn, 'You couldn't make it up'.
I'm so disappointed, it used to be the pre- Christmas highlight of 'The Avenue'.
After the collections had been made, the 'neighbours' used to get
together and have a glass or two of Christmas cheer and nibbles.
Nevermind, no doubt there will be some sort of 'get-together', over the holiday.
Now then, a Christmas ode for my blogging friends,
and wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a peaceful and prosperous
New Year......
Christmas is forever, not for just one day for loving,
sharing, giving are not to be put away like bells and
lights and tinsel in some box above a shelf.
The good you do for others is the good you do yourself.
[Norman Wesley Brooks 1976]
Di.xx
No Santa and sleigh from The Rotary Club's annual collection this year. Wait for it....Yes it's been cancelled on the grounds of 'Elf and Safety' !
To quote Littlejohn, 'You couldn't make it up'.
I'm so disappointed, it used to be the pre- Christmas highlight of 'The Avenue'.
After the collections had been made, the 'neighbours' used to get
together and have a glass or two of Christmas cheer and nibbles.
Nevermind, no doubt there will be some sort of 'get-together', over the holiday.
Now then, a Christmas ode for my blogging friends,
and wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a peaceful and prosperous
New Year......
Christmas is forever, not for just one day for loving,
sharing, giving are not to be put away like bells and
lights and tinsel in some box above a shelf.
The good you do for others is the good you do yourself.
[Norman Wesley Brooks 1976]
Di.xx
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
Jingle Bells
This little yarn is for my friend Welshcakes Limoncello, from the Siciliy Scene blog. She hasn't been too well of late so I hope it will make her chuckle!
As most of you know I come from the grand City of Liverpool. Sadly the City is often maligned by the media and anyone else who cares to jump on the bandwaggon.
How wrong they are!
Liverpool is a great and vibrant City.
We live in a lovely leafy suburb, surrounded by woodlands and verdant parklands, complete with lakes and gardens. Sefton Park has the magnificent Palm House, which was recently restored to it's former glory.
There are two things you can't take away from Liverpool people is their wonderful sense of humour and the ability to laugh at themselves.
Last year, at the beginning of December the local Rotary Club were carrying out the customary door to door collection on behalf of designated charities.
This is quite an event, complete with a large float on a flat back lorry, decked out with a Christmas Grotto Scene, with Santa and his Elves, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, who, of course, was at the front pulling them along in the sleigh.
All was going well until a 'boy racer' came hurtling along the road and crashed into the back of Santa's Sleigh...
Gracious me, what a kerfuffle..Poor Santa was knocked off his sleigh and ended up with Rudolph and the Elves on top of him.
Just as Santa was gathering himself together, the North Star on a six foot pole, attached to the heavily securred metal collection box, crashed down onto the hapless chap. Not to be daunted by his predicament, he lay on the ground laughing his head off.
Talk about seeing stars....he saw more than the North Star that night!
Rumour had it that he had been partaking in a little nip of Whisky or three, from his hip flask, hence his insensitivity to the situation!
He sustained bruised ribs and a broken leg and spent several days in Hospital.
Good job he had his hip flask...must have obliterated the pain.
Rudolph had to be 'put down' and the Elves were sent back to the Grotto for rest and recouperation.
The poor Santa in his 'day job' is a Health and Safety officer for the local council, or should I say 'Elf and Safety'....Ho ho ho !
As most of you know I come from the grand City of Liverpool. Sadly the City is often maligned by the media and anyone else who cares to jump on the bandwaggon.
How wrong they are!
Liverpool is a great and vibrant City.
We live in a lovely leafy suburb, surrounded by woodlands and verdant parklands, complete with lakes and gardens. Sefton Park has the magnificent Palm House, which was recently restored to it's former glory.
There are two things you can't take away from Liverpool people is their wonderful sense of humour and the ability to laugh at themselves.
Last year, at the beginning of December the local Rotary Club were carrying out the customary door to door collection on behalf of designated charities.
This is quite an event, complete with a large float on a flat back lorry, decked out with a Christmas Grotto Scene, with Santa and his Elves, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, who, of course, was at the front pulling them along in the sleigh.
All was going well until a 'boy racer' came hurtling along the road and crashed into the back of Santa's Sleigh...
Gracious me, what a kerfuffle..Poor Santa was knocked off his sleigh and ended up with Rudolph and the Elves on top of him.
Just as Santa was gathering himself together, the North Star on a six foot pole, attached to the heavily securred metal collection box, crashed down onto the hapless chap. Not to be daunted by his predicament, he lay on the ground laughing his head off.
Talk about seeing stars....he saw more than the North Star that night!
Rumour had it that he had been partaking in a little nip of Whisky or three, from his hip flask, hence his insensitivity to the situation!
He sustained bruised ribs and a broken leg and spent several days in Hospital.
Good job he had his hip flask...must have obliterated the pain.
Rudolph had to be 'put down' and the Elves were sent back to the Grotto for rest and recouperation.
The poor Santa in his 'day job' is a Health and Safety officer for the local council, or should I say 'Elf and Safety'....Ho ho ho !
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Doldrums
As it is more than a month since I wrote anything on my Blog and as several kind Bloggers have e-mailed me, to enquire of my well-being and whereabouts, I feel compelled to give you an update.
I am still struggling with health issues and up to my eyes in prescibed drugs it is difficult to find inspiration. With this in mind, I thought, perhaps I may have a general chit chat or even a 'rant'!
Here goes.......
DT and I are thoroughly depressed with the on-going financial failings of this awful Government. Everything we have both worked so hard for and saved for, to use in our retirement, is quckly fading away. When we both retired we were quite comfortably off, not now! We live in a quite large house which we would like to sell and buy something smaller but because of the current financial climate it is an impossible task without losing a lot of money. In the meantime we are using savings (what's left of them) to subsidise our outgoings.
Neither of us have ever been dependent upon the state, we have paid our taxes at higher rates and worked hard to save for later life. We are both in our early sixties and look forward to lots more happy years together
Then it was 1997 and along came NuLab...
'A new day has dawned has it not'?...... spouted the supercillious, grinning idiot Blair.....'No more boom and bust'....roared the brooding, so called, 'psycholgically flawed', Iron Chancellor Gordon'Prudence' Brown.
Our savings and investments (all in Blue Chip Companies), have lost three quarters of the value, in the time NuLab have been wrecking the economy, of this, once wonderful Country.
They are disappearing faster than an ice cube in the Sahara Desert.
I have been around long enough to see the damage sucessive Labour Governments can do to the economy, having worked in the Banking and Financial Services sector for most of my career.
My Father, who was a Master Printer and a staunch Socialist, was absolutely mortified when, at the age of eighteen that I announced I was going to vote Conservative. He launched into a lecture of how he and my mother had worked hard to make sure that I, and my siblings, had a good education, and 'this is how you repay us'. This made me smile because I knew, my mother, unbeknown to him, voted Conservative, however, to save the peace let him think she was of the same political persuasion as him.
I did point out to my Father, that the very reason he'd had made sure I'd had a good education was the very reason that I was able to form my own political opinions and not to be swayed by his assumed family tradition of voting labour. he harrumphed a bit but eventually we agreed to differ.
A few years later when he was managing a large printing works and having had several 'wild cat strikes' on his hands, he, according to my Mother, 'saw the light', and changed his vote to Conservative. he never did tell me about his change of heart. A lovely, kind but rather proud man was my Father.
Talk about a leopard changing his spots!
There....Rant over...I look forward to your comments my dear Blogging Chums!
I am still struggling with health issues and up to my eyes in prescibed drugs it is difficult to find inspiration. With this in mind, I thought, perhaps I may have a general chit chat or even a 'rant'!
Here goes.......
DT and I are thoroughly depressed with the on-going financial failings of this awful Government. Everything we have both worked so hard for and saved for, to use in our retirement, is quckly fading away. When we both retired we were quite comfortably off, not now! We live in a quite large house which we would like to sell and buy something smaller but because of the current financial climate it is an impossible task without losing a lot of money. In the meantime we are using savings (what's left of them) to subsidise our outgoings.
Neither of us have ever been dependent upon the state, we have paid our taxes at higher rates and worked hard to save for later life. We are both in our early sixties and look forward to lots more happy years together
Then it was 1997 and along came NuLab...
'A new day has dawned has it not'?...... spouted the supercillious, grinning idiot Blair.....'No more boom and bust'....roared the brooding, so called, 'psycholgically flawed', Iron Chancellor Gordon'Prudence' Brown.
Our savings and investments (all in Blue Chip Companies), have lost three quarters of the value, in the time NuLab have been wrecking the economy, of this, once wonderful Country.
They are disappearing faster than an ice cube in the Sahara Desert.
I have been around long enough to see the damage sucessive Labour Governments can do to the economy, having worked in the Banking and Financial Services sector for most of my career.
My Father, who was a Master Printer and a staunch Socialist, was absolutely mortified when, at the age of eighteen that I announced I was going to vote Conservative. He launched into a lecture of how he and my mother had worked hard to make sure that I, and my siblings, had a good education, and 'this is how you repay us'. This made me smile because I knew, my mother, unbeknown to him, voted Conservative, however, to save the peace let him think she was of the same political persuasion as him.
I did point out to my Father, that the very reason he'd had made sure I'd had a good education was the very reason that I was able to form my own political opinions and not to be swayed by his assumed family tradition of voting labour. he harrumphed a bit but eventually we agreed to differ.
A few years later when he was managing a large printing works and having had several 'wild cat strikes' on his hands, he, according to my Mother, 'saw the light', and changed his vote to Conservative. he never did tell me about his change of heart. A lovely, kind but rather proud man was my Father.
Talk about a leopard changing his spots!
There....Rant over...I look forward to your comments my dear Blogging Chums!
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Mothers-in-law.
Mothers-in-Law law are often the butt of so many comedians jokes, sometimes, quite unfairly. There are a lot of good alternative comediennes around but I've yet to hear any of them berating their husband's or partner's mothers.
Why is this I wonder?
Is it because we 'girls ' stand together as the Sisterhood and believe that we are beyond reproach, or, is it because men feel threatened, often by three adult women, influencing their lives; ie. wife, own mother and, mother-in-law?
I have had two Mothers-in Law. The first was a 'She devil from Hell' and the second was absolutely lovely, most of the time, (after all nobody's perfect)!
As I am a Mother-in-law to two Sons-in law, I know I am treading on dangerous territory, but, apart from the occasional, faux paux, usually committed by me when I am trying to be 'Wonder Woman' and getting stressed, particularly when entertaining so many , when they all come to stay at the same time,
I feel we have a good relationship.
I have a great deal of love and respect for them both, so, I dearly hope this is reciprocated. I shall be eternally grateful for my beautiful Grandchildren. They are both good and loving husbands and fathers. I must also say, they are also good and kind to me, and of course, DT.
Which self respecting, Mother-in-law could ask for more......
Sadly, not in the case of my first Mother-in Law!
Oh dearie me no! The She Devil from Hell.
This woman left a trail of misery wherever she went.
I could write a book about the terrible things she did to me.
Her party piece was writing the most appalling poison pen letters to my friends and family, accusing me of being a prostitute, amongst other things.
All this was going on whilst her Son and I were planning to marry. At that time I was a member of the Church Choir and a Sunday School Teacher. Laughable really, but then, not so funny!
My family could have taken legal action against her, but as the wedding was looming, and they genuinely liked my husband-to-be, also, they were concerned for my future happiness, so, they chose not to.
The marriage lasted twelve years.....She got her own way in the end. Sadly, when her Son died last year they were not speaking, she even wrote him a nasty letter when he was so terribly ill. Needless to say, her Grandaughters havn't seen or spoken to her for 25 years. She tried to have them taken into care when I divorced her Son. She wrote one of her infamous poison pen letters to The Social Services, again, saying the most appalling things about me. I believe her ultimate plan was to get custody of them and then, have her Son live with her, together with the girls.This was never going to happen because She and her Son had a 'love-hate' relationship.
Oh boy! Did I stand up to her then.
The Social Worker who visited my home was delighted to meet us and assured me there was absolutely no chance of her carrying out her threats....particularly when I enlightened her with 'The She Devil's' previous form, re the 'letters and accusations'..Crazy Woman...In a way I feel sorry for her, she's missed so much.
She's well into her eighties now and lives alone, without any family or friends to care for her.
Now to Mother-in Law number two.....
Oh boy what a refreshing change...Dear Olive ...
From the day she and Jim (Grandpa DT), met me and The Girls, we were welcomed into the family with open arms.
Olive had the most infectious chuckle and used to say, when reminiscing about the first time she met the Girls,(they already had two lovely grandaughters), 'Yesterday we had two Grandaughters and today we've got five'.
When DT and I got engaged they were delighted and couldn't wait for the Wedding.
Olive used to visit my dear Mama when she was ill and housebound.
Sadly Granpa DT died a few months before we married but, on the day, Olive said, 'Jim is with us in spirit'.
She was a deeply religious lady but never attempted to inflict others with her religious views. It would not have mattered to me had she done so because I had so much respect for her.
Sadly she died many years ago, but she had a good and meaningful life, The Girls and I loved and respected her dearly.
I look forward to lots of comments, especially from my male blogging friends!
Why is this I wonder?
Is it because we 'girls ' stand together as the Sisterhood and believe that we are beyond reproach, or, is it because men feel threatened, often by three adult women, influencing their lives; ie. wife, own mother and, mother-in-law?
I have had two Mothers-in Law. The first was a 'She devil from Hell' and the second was absolutely lovely, most of the time, (after all nobody's perfect)!
As I am a Mother-in-law to two Sons-in law, I know I am treading on dangerous territory, but, apart from the occasional, faux paux, usually committed by me when I am trying to be 'Wonder Woman' and getting stressed, particularly when entertaining so many , when they all come to stay at the same time,
I feel we have a good relationship.
I have a great deal of love and respect for them both, so, I dearly hope this is reciprocated. I shall be eternally grateful for my beautiful Grandchildren. They are both good and loving husbands and fathers. I must also say, they are also good and kind to me, and of course, DT.
Which self respecting, Mother-in-law could ask for more......
Sadly, not in the case of my first Mother-in Law!
Oh dearie me no! The She Devil from Hell.
This woman left a trail of misery wherever she went.
I could write a book about the terrible things she did to me.
Her party piece was writing the most appalling poison pen letters to my friends and family, accusing me of being a prostitute, amongst other things.
All this was going on whilst her Son and I were planning to marry. At that time I was a member of the Church Choir and a Sunday School Teacher. Laughable really, but then, not so funny!
My family could have taken legal action against her, but as the wedding was looming, and they genuinely liked my husband-to-be, also, they were concerned for my future happiness, so, they chose not to.
The marriage lasted twelve years.....She got her own way in the end. Sadly, when her Son died last year they were not speaking, she even wrote him a nasty letter when he was so terribly ill. Needless to say, her Grandaughters havn't seen or spoken to her for 25 years. She tried to have them taken into care when I divorced her Son. She wrote one of her infamous poison pen letters to The Social Services, again, saying the most appalling things about me. I believe her ultimate plan was to get custody of them and then, have her Son live with her, together with the girls.This was never going to happen because She and her Son had a 'love-hate' relationship.
Oh boy! Did I stand up to her then.
The Social Worker who visited my home was delighted to meet us and assured me there was absolutely no chance of her carrying out her threats....particularly when I enlightened her with 'The She Devil's' previous form, re the 'letters and accusations'..Crazy Woman...In a way I feel sorry for her, she's missed so much.
She's well into her eighties now and lives alone, without any family or friends to care for her.
Now to Mother-in Law number two.....
Oh boy what a refreshing change...Dear Olive ...
From the day she and Jim (Grandpa DT), met me and The Girls, we were welcomed into the family with open arms.
Olive had the most infectious chuckle and used to say, when reminiscing about the first time she met the Girls,(they already had two lovely grandaughters), 'Yesterday we had two Grandaughters and today we've got five'.
When DT and I got engaged they were delighted and couldn't wait for the Wedding.
Olive used to visit my dear Mama when she was ill and housebound.
Sadly Granpa DT died a few months before we married but, on the day, Olive said, 'Jim is with us in spirit'.
She was a deeply religious lady but never attempted to inflict others with her religious views. It would not have mattered to me had she done so because I had so much respect for her.
Sadly she died many years ago, but she had a good and meaningful life, The Girls and I loved and respected her dearly.
I look forward to lots of comments, especially from my male blogging friends!
Sunday, 6 July 2008
Then I saw him standing there.
Many years ago I was the witness,(matron of honour),at a friend's marriage, to a chap I had introduced her to. There were two single men also attending the wedding. One was a M. Ross, Esq. and the other was DT, (Darling Trubes).
As I had introduced my friend to her soon to be husband, she was hell-bent on returning the compliment.
Still smarting from recently being divorced, I really had no intention of diving headlong into another relationship so soon, despite my friend's bungled efforts to 'match-make'!
We arrived at the Registry Office, and then.....
I saw him standing there!
Well..My heart went boom,
When I crossed the room,
and..He held his hand in mine...
We proceded with the Marriage ceremony and every time I turned around to check that the five children were ok, (my three, and my friend's two), all I could see was DT siiting in the centre of the children, with a smiling face and twinkling eyes.
The children behaved impecably throughout the ceremony. It must have been D.T's calming influence because they didn't move....Just too good to be true!
After the 'nuptuals' we proceeded to the local hostery for the reception.
DT offered me and the three girls, (aged 9, 7 and 4yrs), a lift in his car, which I gratefully accepted.
The children scrambled into the back and I sat in the front alongside DT.
All was quiet on the back seat apart from a bit of giggling and whispering.
Suddenly a little voice 'piped up' 'Well, if she marries Mr Ross she would be called Diana Ross and we could be 'The Supremes'! Another little voice chipped in, 'Well I want her to marry Mr.DT. because 'Aunty M' said he's got a much better job and lots more money than Mr.Ross....He's a much better catch and better looking too!.... What was the expression....
'From the mouths of babes, comes words of wisdom'.....
'Open up ground and swallow me now', I thought, as I turned crimson with embarrassment. Needless to say DT was highly amused and took all this in good fun....I really didn't expect to see him again...
However, a Month later at the Local Womens's Institute Dance, to which he'd invited me, (without The Supremes, I may add), who, were tucked up in bed with Grandma baby sitting.. we toodled off for a sumptuous Banquet and Disco at a wonderful local hotel....
Oh, we danced through the night,
we held each other tight,
Then, before too long,
I fell in love with him,
Well, I've never danced with another,
Since, I saw him standing there.
Three weeks after the WI Dance DT came around for Sunday Roast, we had been dating in between time and DT used to, some times call around early evening, and would invariably end up at the table playing board games with the children whilst I prepared supper..... However, Back to the Sunday Roast!
Everyone was sitting nicely around the table, and as I carried in the dinner, 'up piped' another little voice saying...'When are you going to marry my Mum'?
I nearly dropped the Roast Chicken, and again, blushed crimson in embarrassment....'Oh ground please, please open up and swallow me', again, I cringed.
Then, another little voice added, 'Look at Mum, she's gone all red'....
Again all this was taken in good humour by DT.
I really expected him to do a 'runner ', and join The Foreign Legion...
Bearing in mind DT was the eternal batchelor and was never in any rush to get married too any of his former girl friends.
Five years later we were married. Although, all the while, our relationship was getting stronger, DT, was never a man to rush into things, he wanted the three girls to accept him and also, I needed time to recover from an acrimonious divorce, which was, in some ways, like a bereavement.
During DT's Speech at the wedding he raised his glass to me and the three girls and said how happy he was, because he had fallen in love, not only with me, but, with the 'whole package', from when he first met us.
The whole package included One large Alsation Dog called Victor, A Guinea Pig called Gilbert, a one eyed Cat called Nelson, Two Goldfish and a White Mouse called Ben..... I guess he married the whole menagerie, (package).
We have just celebrated 20 years of Happy Marriage, thanks to my little 'Matchmakers'!
As I had introduced my friend to her soon to be husband, she was hell-bent on returning the compliment.
Still smarting from recently being divorced, I really had no intention of diving headlong into another relationship so soon, despite my friend's bungled efforts to 'match-make'!
We arrived at the Registry Office, and then.....
I saw him standing there!
Well..My heart went boom,
When I crossed the room,
and..He held his hand in mine...
We proceded with the Marriage ceremony and every time I turned around to check that the five children were ok, (my three, and my friend's two), all I could see was DT siiting in the centre of the children, with a smiling face and twinkling eyes.
The children behaved impecably throughout the ceremony. It must have been D.T's calming influence because they didn't move....Just too good to be true!
After the 'nuptuals' we proceeded to the local hostery for the reception.
DT offered me and the three girls, (aged 9, 7 and 4yrs), a lift in his car, which I gratefully accepted.
The children scrambled into the back and I sat in the front alongside DT.
All was quiet on the back seat apart from a bit of giggling and whispering.
Suddenly a little voice 'piped up' 'Well, if she marries Mr Ross she would be called Diana Ross and we could be 'The Supremes'! Another little voice chipped in, 'Well I want her to marry Mr.DT. because 'Aunty M' said he's got a much better job and lots more money than Mr.Ross....He's a much better catch and better looking too!.... What was the expression....
'From the mouths of babes, comes words of wisdom'.....
'Open up ground and swallow me now', I thought, as I turned crimson with embarrassment. Needless to say DT was highly amused and took all this in good fun....I really didn't expect to see him again...
However, a Month later at the Local Womens's Institute Dance, to which he'd invited me, (without The Supremes, I may add), who, were tucked up in bed with Grandma baby sitting.. we toodled off for a sumptuous Banquet and Disco at a wonderful local hotel....
Oh, we danced through the night,
we held each other tight,
Then, before too long,
I fell in love with him,
Well, I've never danced with another,
Since, I saw him standing there.
Three weeks after the WI Dance DT came around for Sunday Roast, we had been dating in between time and DT used to, some times call around early evening, and would invariably end up at the table playing board games with the children whilst I prepared supper..... However, Back to the Sunday Roast!
Everyone was sitting nicely around the table, and as I carried in the dinner, 'up piped' another little voice saying...'When are you going to marry my Mum'?
I nearly dropped the Roast Chicken, and again, blushed crimson in embarrassment....'Oh ground please, please open up and swallow me', again, I cringed.
Then, another little voice added, 'Look at Mum, she's gone all red'....
Again all this was taken in good humour by DT.
I really expected him to do a 'runner ', and join The Foreign Legion...
Bearing in mind DT was the eternal batchelor and was never in any rush to get married too any of his former girl friends.
Five years later we were married. Although, all the while, our relationship was getting stronger, DT, was never a man to rush into things, he wanted the three girls to accept him and also, I needed time to recover from an acrimonious divorce, which was, in some ways, like a bereavement.
During DT's Speech at the wedding he raised his glass to me and the three girls and said how happy he was, because he had fallen in love, not only with me, but, with the 'whole package', from when he first met us.
The whole package included One large Alsation Dog called Victor, A Guinea Pig called Gilbert, a one eyed Cat called Nelson, Two Goldfish and a White Mouse called Ben..... I guess he married the whole menagerie, (package).
We have just celebrated 20 years of Happy Marriage, thanks to my little 'Matchmakers'!
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
Ladies and their 'Unmentionables'.
Why is it that ladies of a certain generation are very particular about their 'undies'?
My dear Mum-in- Law would never hang hers out to dry on the washing line in the garden, and placed them discretely on a clothes maiden indoors, out of sight, and of course, always referred to them, as her 'unmentionables'.
My own dear Mama, whenever she stayed with us, always insisted on washing her 'unmentionables' by hand and hanging them to dry on the radiator in her room. This used to drive me potty as I washed everything else for her with the family wash and, I hate washing being hung up to dry on radiators. There was just no way her 'unmentionables' were going to be displayed to all and sundry on a washing line!
I had a lovely Auntie May, who, in her later years, had a mild form of dementia, and was sweetly confused.
She happily,resided in a Nursing Home in Southport, where, she was well cared for until, sadly, she passed away.
Her daughter, my cousin 'Joybells', as she is affectionately known, within the Family, collected her one day from the Nursing home,for her to spend some time with her family at their home in Hertfordshire.
Auntie May settled herself in and unpacked her suit case. Joybells, on assisting her asked her where her undies (panties) were. Whereupon, Auntie May looked rather vague and started to giggle, then toddled off to watch television. 'Oh no, thought Joy, the Care Assistant had forgotten to pack them'.
She phoned the Nursing Home and they were adamant that they had been packed, Joy, by then, was getting increasingly frustrated with the situation, so she more or less 'tore a strip off' the Assistant then dashed out to the nearest Marks and Spencers and purchased Auntie May 12 pairs of old ladies 'unmentionables'. She then, dashed back home to put them away and prepare supper. All this was done in a day of a 450 mile round trip to collect her beloved Mama.
After supper, Joy was putting the new 'undies' in a drawer and opened the wardrobe to put Auntie May's coat away and.... Lo and Behold...there... hanging on individual hangers .... all neatly lined up at the end of the wardrobe....Yes, you've guessed... Auntie May's 'unmentionables.
Poor 'Joybells', then had to eat 'humble pie' and telephone the Nursing home to apologise profusely to the 'ear battered' Care Assistant.
Auntie May thought this was all very funny and couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. She then proceeded to hang up her twelve new pairs of 'unmentionables on a further twelve hangers in the wardrobe, snuggled herself up in bed and fell asleep giggling!
Must be a genetic thing in my family, amongst the ladies 'Knickermania' perhaps?
Just off now to wash my unmentionables and hang them discretely on a radiator.
My dear Mum-in- Law would never hang hers out to dry on the washing line in the garden, and placed them discretely on a clothes maiden indoors, out of sight, and of course, always referred to them, as her 'unmentionables'.
My own dear Mama, whenever she stayed with us, always insisted on washing her 'unmentionables' by hand and hanging them to dry on the radiator in her room. This used to drive me potty as I washed everything else for her with the family wash and, I hate washing being hung up to dry on radiators. There was just no way her 'unmentionables' were going to be displayed to all and sundry on a washing line!
I had a lovely Auntie May, who, in her later years, had a mild form of dementia, and was sweetly confused.
She happily,resided in a Nursing Home in Southport, where, she was well cared for until, sadly, she passed away.
Her daughter, my cousin 'Joybells', as she is affectionately known, within the Family, collected her one day from the Nursing home,for her to spend some time with her family at their home in Hertfordshire.
Auntie May settled herself in and unpacked her suit case. Joybells, on assisting her asked her where her undies (panties) were. Whereupon, Auntie May looked rather vague and started to giggle, then toddled off to watch television. 'Oh no, thought Joy, the Care Assistant had forgotten to pack them'.
She phoned the Nursing Home and they were adamant that they had been packed, Joy, by then, was getting increasingly frustrated with the situation, so she more or less 'tore a strip off' the Assistant then dashed out to the nearest Marks and Spencers and purchased Auntie May 12 pairs of old ladies 'unmentionables'. She then, dashed back home to put them away and prepare supper. All this was done in a day of a 450 mile round trip to collect her beloved Mama.
After supper, Joy was putting the new 'undies' in a drawer and opened the wardrobe to put Auntie May's coat away and.... Lo and Behold...there... hanging on individual hangers .... all neatly lined up at the end of the wardrobe....Yes, you've guessed... Auntie May's 'unmentionables.
Poor 'Joybells', then had to eat 'humble pie' and telephone the Nursing home to apologise profusely to the 'ear battered' Care Assistant.
Auntie May thought this was all very funny and couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. She then proceeded to hang up her twelve new pairs of 'unmentionables on a further twelve hangers in the wardrobe, snuggled herself up in bed and fell asleep giggling!
Must be a genetic thing in my family, amongst the ladies 'Knickermania' perhaps?
Just off now to wash my unmentionables and hang them discretely on a radiator.
Wednesday, 30 April 2008
Do I Hear A Waltz ?
This the title song of a Broadway Musical first performed in 1965. It was written by Rogers and Sondheim. I don't know very much about this Musical other than the storyline is that of an American Spinster, who could not give herself emotionally, (whatever that means), until she falls in love.
She has a doomed affair with a married man during a vacation in Venice.
Many years ago I used to sing in a ladies choir and one of the lady soloists named Edith, who had never married, used to sing this at many of the Concerts that we performed.
In fact, it was one of the most requested song in our very varied programme.
Most of our audiences were older ladies in Residential Care homes and Senior Citizens Clubs. For some reasons, which you may understand, when you read the lyrics, that, whenenever Edith performed this song, many crinkly old faces were wreathed in knowing smiles, and many faded old eyes, regaining their lovely true colours, glistened with with tears.
Here are the lyrics. (Sorry I can't sing it for you)!
Do I hear a Waltz...
Do I hear a waltz?
Very odd but I hear a voice,
There isn't a band and I don't understand it at all.
I can't hear a waltz,
Oh my lord there it goes again!
Why is nobody dancing in the street?
Can't they hear the beat?
Magical, mystical miracle,
Can it be true?
Is it true?
Is it me?
No it's you!
I do hear a waltz,
I see you and I hear a waltz,
It's what I've been waiting for all my life... to hear a waltz.
Do I hear a waltz?
Oh my dear don't you hear a waltz?
Such lovely Blue 'Danubey' music,
How can you be still,
You must hear a waltz!
Even strangers are dancing now,
An old lady is dancing in her flat,
waltzing with her cat.
Roses are dancing with Peonies.
Yes it's true,
Don't you see?
Can't be you!
Must be me!
Do I hear a waltz?
I wan't to share it 'cause...
Oh boy, do I share a waltz!
Sadly Edith the soloist died a few years ago and I never did pick up the courage to ask her what was behind her reason for singing 'Do I Hear A Waltz'. I always felt it held some deep significance in her life but she never revealed what that significance was.
She was a very tall, good looking and beautifully groomed lady. She certainly had an 'aura' about her, however, she was a very private person, that was, until until she opened her mouth to sing, in her beautiful Contralto voice.
I truly believe Edith did hear her Waltz!
Do you hear a Waltz?...Do tell
I will share my 'Waltz' with you, on my next post.....
She has a doomed affair with a married man during a vacation in Venice.
Many years ago I used to sing in a ladies choir and one of the lady soloists named Edith, who had never married, used to sing this at many of the Concerts that we performed.
In fact, it was one of the most requested song in our very varied programme.
Most of our audiences were older ladies in Residential Care homes and Senior Citizens Clubs. For some reasons, which you may understand, when you read the lyrics, that, whenenever Edith performed this song, many crinkly old faces were wreathed in knowing smiles, and many faded old eyes, regaining their lovely true colours, glistened with with tears.
Here are the lyrics. (Sorry I can't sing it for you)!
Do I hear a Waltz...
Do I hear a waltz?
Very odd but I hear a voice,
There isn't a band and I don't understand it at all.
I can't hear a waltz,
Oh my lord there it goes again!
Why is nobody dancing in the street?
Can't they hear the beat?
Magical, mystical miracle,
Can it be true?
Is it true?
Is it me?
No it's you!
I do hear a waltz,
I see you and I hear a waltz,
It's what I've been waiting for all my life... to hear a waltz.
Do I hear a waltz?
Oh my dear don't you hear a waltz?
Such lovely Blue 'Danubey' music,
How can you be still,
You must hear a waltz!
Even strangers are dancing now,
An old lady is dancing in her flat,
waltzing with her cat.
Roses are dancing with Peonies.
Yes it's true,
Don't you see?
Can't be you!
Must be me!
Do I hear a waltz?
I wan't to share it 'cause...
Oh boy, do I share a waltz!
Sadly Edith the soloist died a few years ago and I never did pick up the courage to ask her what was behind her reason for singing 'Do I Hear A Waltz'. I always felt it held some deep significance in her life but she never revealed what that significance was.
She was a very tall, good looking and beautifully groomed lady. She certainly had an 'aura' about her, however, she was a very private person, that was, until until she opened her mouth to sing, in her beautiful Contralto voice.
I truly believe Edith did hear her Waltz!
Do you hear a Waltz?...Do tell
I will share my 'Waltz' with you, on my next post.....
Monday, 14 April 2008
Michael. Z Christianson. RIP. 01.05.07.
This is a Tribute, to the dear Father of our Three Daughters.
Sadly, he died last year, after a valiant fight against Pancreatic Cancer.
As many of you will know that I have been very happily re-married to Darling Trubes for 21 years and he has been a wonderful Step-Daddy to the Three Girls, and a 'Fab' Grandpa to our three grandchildren.
Michael and I divorced 26 years ago. On reflection, we married far too young, but people did marry a lot younger then. We had had always been in touch, particularly on special Family occasions. We had a courteous relationship he too, re-married and was very happy in that relationship.
It hit home to me, how we all missed him, when, the extended family, attended Darling Olivia'`s second birthday celebrations. Although he was desperately ill, last year, he strugggled to attend her first birthday party.
Sadly he died a few weeks later.
Michael was the only son of a guy called Chris Christianson, who was a Flight Lieutenant in The Royal Canadian Airforce during WW2. His Family still live in Calgary on the West side of Canada.
He was 'shot down' over Holland and sadly, didn't get to meet his only son. Michael was born after his Father died. Chris was 22 years of age ....so young ....so sad.
My song is to you. Michael.
There were Bells on a Hill,
but I never heard them at all,
No I never heard them at all,
'Til' there was you.
Rest in Peace...Mike..
Sadly, he died last year, after a valiant fight against Pancreatic Cancer.
As many of you will know that I have been very happily re-married to Darling Trubes for 21 years and he has been a wonderful Step-Daddy to the Three Girls, and a 'Fab' Grandpa to our three grandchildren.
Michael and I divorced 26 years ago. On reflection, we married far too young, but people did marry a lot younger then. We had had always been in touch, particularly on special Family occasions. We had a courteous relationship he too, re-married and was very happy in that relationship.
It hit home to me, how we all missed him, when, the extended family, attended Darling Olivia'`s second birthday celebrations. Although he was desperately ill, last year, he strugggled to attend her first birthday party.
Sadly he died a few weeks later.
Michael was the only son of a guy called Chris Christianson, who was a Flight Lieutenant in The Royal Canadian Airforce during WW2. His Family still live in Calgary on the West side of Canada.
He was 'shot down' over Holland and sadly, didn't get to meet his only son. Michael was born after his Father died. Chris was 22 years of age ....so young ....so sad.
My song is to you. Michael.
There were Bells on a Hill,
but I never heard them at all,
No I never heard them at all,
'Til' there was you.
Rest in Peace...Mike..
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