FordeFables
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    • Strictly for Adults Novels >
      • Rebecca's Revenge
      • Come Back Peter
    • Tales from Portlaw >
      • No Need to Look for Love
      • 'The Love Quartet' >
        • The Tannery Wager
        • 'Fini and Archie'
        • 'The Love Bridge'
        • 'Forgotten Love'
      • The Priest's Calling Card >
        • Chapter One - The Irish Custom
        • Chapter Two - Patrick Duffy's Family Background
        • Chapter Three - Patrick Duffy Junior's Vocation to Priesthood
        • Chapter Four - The first years of the priesthood
        • Chapter Five - Father Patrick Duffy in Seattle
        • Chapter Six - Father Patrick Duffy, Portlaw Priest
        • Chapter Seven - Patrick Duffy Priest Power
        • Chapter Eight - Patrick Duffy Groundless Gossip
        • Chapter Nine - Monsignor Duffy of Portlaw
        • Chapter Ten - The Portlaw Inheritance of Patrick Duffy
      • Bigger and Better >
        • Chapter One - The Portlaw Runt
        • Chapter Two - Tony Arrives in California
        • Chapter Three - Tony's Life in San Francisco
        • Chapter Four - Tony and Mary
        • Chapter Five - The Portlaw Secret
      • The Oldest Woman in the World >
        • Chapter One - The Early Life of Sean Thornton
        • Chapter Two - Reporter to Investigator
        • Chapter Three - Search for the Oldest Person Alive
        • Chapter Four - Sean Thornton marries Sheila
        • Chapter Five - Discoveries of Widow Friggs' Past
        • Chapter Six - Facts and Truth are Not Always the Same
      • Sean and Sarah >
        • Chapter 1 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
        • Chapter 2 - 'The early years of sweet innocence in Portlaw'
        • Chapter 3 - 'The Separation'
        • Chapter 4 - 'Separation and Betrayal'
        • Chapter 5 - 'Portlaw to Manchester'
        • Chapter 6 - 'Salford Choices'
        • Chapter 7 - 'Life inside Prison'
        • Chapter 8 - 'The Aylesbury Pilgrimage'
        • Chapter 9 - Sean's interest in stone masonary'
        • Chapter 10 - 'Sean's and Tony's Partnership'
        • Chapter 11 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
      • The Alternative Christmas Party >
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
      • The Life of Liam Lafferty >
        • Chapter One: ' Liam Lafferty is born'
        • Chapter Two : 'The Baptism of Liam Lafferty'
        • Chapter Three: 'The early years of Liam Lafferty'
        • Chapter Four : Early Manhood
        • Chapter Five : Ned's Secret Past
        • Chapter Six : Courtship and Marriage
        • Chapter Seven : Liam and Trish marry
        • Chapter Eight : Farley meets Ned
        • Chapter Nine : 'Ned comes clean to Farley'
        • Chapter Ten : Tragedy hits the family
        • Chapter Eleven : The future is brighter
      • The life and times of Joe Walsh >
        • Chapter One : 'The marriage of Margaret Mawd and Thomas Walsh’
        • Chapter Two 'The birth of Joe Walsh'
        • Chapter Three 'Marriage breakup and betrayal'
        • Chapter Four: ' The Walsh family breakup'
        • Chapter Five : ' Liverpool Lodgings'
        • Chapter Six: ' Settled times are established and tested'
        • Chapter Seven : 'Haworth is heaven is a place on earth'
        • Chapter Eight: 'Coming out'
        • Chapter Nine: Portlaw revenge
        • Chapter Ten: ' The murder trial of Paddy Groggy'
        • Chapter Eleven: 'New beginnings'
      • The Woman Who Hated Christmas >
        • Chapter One: 'The Christmas Enigma'
        • Chapter Two: ' The Breakup of Beth's Family''
        • Chapter Three: From Teenager to Adulthood.'
        • Chapter Four: 'The Mills of West Yorkshire.'
        • Chapter Five: 'Harrison Garner Showdown.'
        • Chapter Six : 'The Christmas Dance'
        • Chapter Seven : 'The ballot for Shop Steward.'
        • Chapter Eight: ' Leaving the Mill'
        • Chapter Ten: ' Beth buries her Ghosts'
        • Chapter Eleven: Beth and Dermot start off married life in Galway.
        • Chapter Twelve: The Twin Tragedy of Christmas, 1992.'
        • Chapter Thirteen: 'The Christmas star returns'
        • Chapter Fourteen: ' Beth's future in Portlaw'
      • The Last Dance >
        • Chapter One - ‘Nancy Swales becomes the Widow Swales’
        • Chapter Two ‘The secret night life of Widow Swales’
        • Chapter Three ‘Meeting Richard again’
        • Chapter Four ‘Clancy’s Ballroom: March 1961’
        • Chapter Five ‘The All Ireland Dancing Rounds’
        • Chapter Six ‘James Mountford’
        • Chapter Seven ‘The All Ireland Ballroom Latin American Dance Final.’
        • Chapter Eight ‘The Final Arrives’
        • Chapter Nine: 'Beth in Manchester.'
      • 'Two Sisters' >
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
        • Chapter Nine
        • Chapter Ten
        • Chapter Eleven
        • Chapter Twelve
        • Chapter Thirteen
        • Chapter Fourteen
        • Chapter Fifteen
        • Chapter Sixteen
        • Chapter Seventeen
      • Fourteen Days >
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
        • Chapter Nine
        • Chapter Ten
        • Chapter Eleven
        • Chapter Twelve
        • Chapter Thirteen
        • Chapter Fourteen
      • ‘The Postman Always Knocks Twice’ >
        • Author's Foreword
        • Contents
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
        • Chapter Nine
        • Chapter Ten
        • Chapter Eleven
        • Chapter Twelve
        • Chapter Thirteen
        • Chapter Fourteen
        • Chapter Fifteen
        • Chapter Sixteen
        • Chapter Seventeen
        • Chapter Eighteen
        • Chapter Nineteen
        • Chapter Twenty
        • Chapter Twenty-One
        • Chapter Twenty-Two
  • Celebrity Contacts
    • Contacts with Celebrities >
      • Journey to the Stars
      • Number 46
      • Shining Stars
      • Sweet Serendipity
      • There's Nowt Stranger Than Folk
      • Caught Short
      • A Day with Hannah Hauxwell
    • More Contacts with Celebrities >
      • Judgement Day
      • The One That Got Away
      • Two Women of Substance
      • The Outcasts
      • Cars for Stars
      • Going That Extra Mile
      • Lady in Red
      • Television Presenters
  • Thoughts and Musings
    • Bereavement >
      • Time to clear the Fallen Leaves
      • Eulogy for Uncle Johnnie
    • Nature >
      • Why do birds sing
    • Bill's Personal Development >
      • What I'd like to be remembered for
      • Second Chances
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      • Holidays of Old
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      • Cleckheaton Consecration
      • Canadian Loves
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      • 'Early life at my Grandparents'
      • Family Holidays
      • 'Mother /Child Bond'
      • Childhood Pain
      • The Death of Lady
      • 'Soldiering On'
      • 'Romantic Holidays'
      • 'On the roof'
      • Always wear clean shoes
      • 'Family Tree'
      • The importance of poise
      • 'Growing up with grandparents'
    • Love & Romance >
      • Dancing Partner
      • The Greatest
      • Arthur & Guinevere
      • Hands That Touch
    • Christian Thoughts, Acts and Words >
      • Reuben's Naming Ceremony
      • Love makes the World go round
      • Walks along the Mirfield canal
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        • Douglas the Dragon Play >
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        • The Ballad of Sleezy the Fox
        • Be My Life
    • 'Relaxation Rationale' >
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    • The Role of a Step-Father
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    • Christmas Songs & Carols
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April 29th, 2014.

29/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"For most married couples, the arrival of the stork's delivery with their little bundle of joy is an occasion to be fondly remembered. If they are lucky, the newcomer will constantly smile and coo, eat tidily and sleep without interruption throughout the night. They'll be so good that from two days old they'll poo to order in their own potty, negating the need for a new washer to cope with the mountain of baby nappies to change! You might even forget that you have them. Indeed you won't even know that they're there because, in reality they're not. Wake up......you're dreaming! You've already had an hour's sleep......He's hungry again.......He's poohed his pants and he farts more often than your old man beside you!

I've a theory that if storks deliver good children then its the raven which delivers the beasties. From the moment some children first cry upon having their backside slapped, they seem to become addicted to the sound of their own cry and remain squealers forevermore. It's as though they were born to be drama queens; never happy unless they are overindulged, overfed, and always wanting to be over there when they're over here! Whatever they have is the opposite of what they want, though many might argue they rarely get what they truly deserve.

Were you delivered by a stork or a raven? Were you a cooer or a pooer? Ask your parents if they're still around to tell you or failing that show your partner these images and ask them." William Forde: April 29th, 2014. 




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April 28th, 2014.

28/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"In the full span of things life can be short, so it's better to make your hugs long and enduring for we never know when we next wrap arms around the one we love. 

There have been numerous studies that have shown that children whose parents hug them as they develop, tend to grow into more loving, expressive, caring and all-round adults who are happy in their own skin and don't make others jump out of theirs.

They are also stronger individuals, unafraid to mix in any company and walk with head held high or in humble and respectful presence. They are known to have the potential to resurrect hope in the desolate, bring comfort to the sick, promote peace in the dying and raise compassion in the hardest of hearts. They even have the ability to ferment forgiveness in the most stubborn and embittered of souls. They possess the ambitious desire to broaden horizons in the narrowest of minds and yet have the humility to recognise one's potential limits and reluctance towards such change during moments of high resistance.

Such individuals come to be known by many different labels of human description. Some will know them as 'saint', but more often we call them 'good friend' and others 'soul mate'. I have even heard of 'good persons, parents, partners, husbands or wives' included in this honour roll of recognition. Whoever they be or from wherever they come, of one thing we can be certain: that from the very moment of their first contact with the world until their last breath has been expired in it, they learned how to hug and they subsequently reaped the rewards of their tactile tuition." William Forde: April 28th, 2014.Thought for today:
"In the full span of things life can be short, so it's better to make your hugs long and enduring for we never know when we next wrap arms around the one we love. 

There have been numerous studies that have shown that children whose parents hug them as they develop, tend to grow into more loving, expressive, caring and all-round adults who are happy in their own skin and don't make others jump out of theirs.

They are also stronger individuals, unafraid to mix in any company and walk with head held high or in humble and respectful presence. They are known to have the potential to resurrect hope in the desolate, bring comfort to the sick, promote peace in the dying and raise compassion in the hardest of hearts. They even have the ability to ferment forgiveness in the most stubborn and embittered of souls. They possess the ambitious desire to broaden horizons in the narrowest of minds and yet have the humility to recognise one's potential limits and reluctance towards such change during moments of high resistance.

Such individuals come to be known by many different labels of human description. Some will know them as 'saint', but more often we call them 'good friend' and others 'soul mate'. I have even heard of 'good persons, parents, partners, husbands or wives' included in this honour roll of recognition. Whoever they be or from wherever they come, of one thing we can be certain: that from the very moment of their first contact with the world until their last breath has been expired in it, they learned how to hug and they subsequently reaped the rewards of their tactile tuition." William Forde: April 28th, 2014.

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April 27th, 2014.

27/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Oh butterfly woman of deepest dreams, blow thy sweet passion my way and change my fortune for the better with the chrystalisation of my soul from sinner to saint. If metamorphosis means anything, allow me to make all change required of me before you call me back into account. Let your butterflies find rest upon my person and break not upon the wheel of my weary bones." William Forde: April 27th, 2014.

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April 26th, 2014

26/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"All that I am and ever hope to be, I owe to my mother. While it required both mum and dad to give me life, my mother gave me soul and infused me with the belief that anything is possible if you never disown or disgrace yourself, your background or your God. I was taught to honour all three by my mother. My dad who had been reared during a time when a man's word was his bond added , 'Honour your word' as the fourth commandment of the Forde family. The first three children of the family were born in Southern Ireland and the next four were born in West Yorkshire. As the photo above shows, I have always been bonnier than the next two girls in the chain of command.

Twenty eight years ago today my mother died at the early age of 64 years. Although many of her grand children and great grand children never knew her, they meet her on every occasion that they come across me and my six siblings. Some even see her features daily in the image of their children, though they may not recognize it as readily as myself.

Although a non-academic who left school to work as soon as she entered her early teens, my mum was nevertheless a woman of substance who taught all seven of her children the finest lesson of all; to look out for each other as long as we live. Her education may have been unfinished, but her wisdom and depth of thought was profound and started each of her children in their journey of life along a wholesome road. She was a born story teller or as others may prefer to have described her, 'a teller of tall truths' and I'm sure that my sixty published books are down to her indirect influence.

She always encouraged the honest expression of one's feelings at the moment of their birth. She never thought crying to be unmanly and believed that tears are the raw expression of the bravest of thoughts. Mum also said to think before speaking as one can never retrieve the spoken word nor get back the stone after the throw. One of her nicest pieces of wisdom though was when she told us to walk gently through the world as we are not always aware when we tred upon the fragile feelings of others. She also said that we should know the earth's beauty all the days of our life.

I remember the last time I saw her looking out of the hospital window from her bed in Staincliffe Hospital the day before she died. I had just spent an hour visiting her and said that I'd visit again tomorrow .She was smiling. 

My mum wasn't faultless by any stretch of the imagination, but by God she was a good person and a loving mother. I would best descibe her as being a perfect example of how to find oneself and remain happy and content with the person found.  Through the very example of her existence, she taught me the two most treasured lessons that any mother could teach her child; how to live and how to die with dignity. Her secret was simple; never keep your love distant from others and always keep a smile close by. I love you mum. I miss you. Your eldest child Billy x" William Forde: April 26th, 2014.  

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April 25th,2014

25/4/2014

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Thought for today:

"When we lock indifference inside our hearts, we lock out the goodness in our lives.


There once was a wise man whose job was to educate his rich master's son. The boy had been born into a world of plenty where his family's wealth, title and power bought them privileges beyond one's wildest dreams.

His upbringing and conditioning had in effect hardened his heart to many of the world's injustices and he began to slowly despise himself for the type of person he was fast becoming.


As the boy gradually grew older, he developed a conscience and found it harder to continue in the absolute belief he'd once held about the merits of wealth, title, power and privilege being able to purchase peace, happiness and contentment at the expense of others' poverty and hardship.

'What is wrong with me?' he asked his tutor. 'Why do I feel so unhappy and discontent with my lot in life when I have riches at my disposal that thousands would die for?'

'Perhaps that's the problem, young master,' the wise man replied, adding, 'From what I've been led to understand, thousands have given their lives to advance the wealth which your family enjoy today!'

Seeing that his pupil did not understand the weight of his words, he went to a cupboard and took from within a pair of scales.Then he arranged for the cook to send up from the kitchen, the heart of an ox. The wise man placed the ox's heart on one side of the scales and asked his pupil to gather up all the rings, diamonds, jewellery and gold coin he possessed and place them on the other side of the scales. When that was done, the great wealth amassed on one side of the scales made the scales very much one sided.

'That is why you are unhappy today, young master,' the wise man replied. 'Your heart has remained locked up all those years and has been kept away from the lives and experiences of those less fortunate than yourself. It has been replaced by wealth and privilege; which however much you possess, can never weigh as much on the scales of justice and happiness as that of a kind heart inside a good person.'

'But....but how can I become happy and content? Do I have to dispose of all the wealth I possess?' the boy asked.

'No' said the wise man, adding,' Merely place it to one side and never allow it more regard or to weigh more heavily in your consideration than the pain, suffering and hardships of others. Never allow wealth to outweigh the feelings, consideration, respect and love you give out to all others. Do this and you will unlock your heart and throw out all indifference, and allow goodness to enter in its place and remain therein forevermore.Only then shall you truly know the wealth you seek!'" William Forde: April 25th, 2014.

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April 24th, 2014

24/4/2014

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Thought for today;
"I was recently reading about some people who are currently unemployed and in receipt of more benefit than many full-time workers earn for a full-time job.

Now given the parlous state of the economy and the lack of work which pays above the minimum-wage level, I don't blame anyone who finds themselves unemployed through no fault of their own. However, I do blame the Government past and present for allowing any able-bodied person  to receive unemployment benefit without being required to do some community work in return for at least three days labour in every five-day working week.

Fifty years ago, I arrived in Toronto, Canada in the bleak of winter. I was amazed to see how many men there were clearing the snow off the roads and highways during a time of high snow drifts in temperatures of minus 20 degrees. I later learned that over half of the workers were those who were claiming unemployment benefit and who were giving their time in repayment of government benefits; not voluntarily I would add, but nevertheless ungrudgingly!  These benefit claimants worked alongside and among the regular government salaried road-maintenance workers and all wore the same indistinguishable uniforms. At the time, the Canadian Government argued that, 'Nobody of able-bodied means gets anything in return for doing nothing!' I also recall that the Canadian philosophy of the time believed that maintaining the work ethos of a man enabled one to maintain self-respect.  

What a marvellous idea! I reckon that we could do with a dose of that rationale in our country today; don't you? 'Hey mate, don't drop your litter round here. It's not a circus! Get it bagged!'" William Forde: April 24th, 2014. 

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April 23rd, 2014

23/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"They do say that the best teachers to learn from are those tutors who show you where to look and not tell you what to look at; a teacher who seeks not to interpret the meaning of the image you see there.



Sixty years ago, I first came across the true meaning of meditation and relaxation after having incurred a bad traffic accident and being told that I'd never walk again. Then I learned about the power of the imagination and how harnessing one's images and using one's visualisation can make the body do unbelievable things. 

Twenty years later, I first became acquainted with Rogerian counselling; a 'client centred' approach which is 'non-directive and non-judgemental.' This is a therapy where the client is cured through a process of finding and developing self-love. While most observers who are unfamiliar with this process will only see and hear a lot of 'ums' and 'ahs' from the counseller, I know that this approach can and has worked for many people who are prepared to undergo long-term therapy and who need to be listened to more than reasoned with.

As a Probation Officer for most of my working life, I was naturally acquainted with the work of Sigmund Freud in my training and while I found many of his psycho-analytical theories bizarre, I did find some of his work upon neurosis very pertinent. I later learned that often the only way to cure someone of a particular neurosis which badly hampered their life was to teach them to substitute it with a more innocuous one.

Then one night I was watching late night television and onto my screen came a rather inebriated psychiatrist called Ronald David Laing. Although Laing was half drunk at the time of his television discussion, he spoke a remarkable lot of sense. Laing appealed to me because he was a rebel; a revolutionary who held views which ran counter to the psychiatric orthodoxy of the day. He took the expressed feelings of his patients to be valid descriptions of their lived experiences rather than mere symptoms of some underlying disorder. For example, any patient who believed that they were King Henry the Fourth reincarnated was approached and spoken to by him as though they were King Henry the Fourth and not some nut case. Laing knew that if the mind led one to believe an untruth then it was perfectly natural for the body to live out that experience. He also propounded the theory of 'Reframing', taking a problem situation and looking at it anew. For example, don't get upset if you are awake all night and sleep all day; instead think, 'Just look at how much I can get done in the early hours when everyone else is asleep and I can get on unhindered.'

Then I discovered the work of Albert Ellis who worked in the field of Emotional Disturbance and before very long I found myself being fascinated by the Behaviourists of the day. The Behaviourist approach, although largely frowned upon in England in the early 1970s, appealed to me tremendously because they were concerned with changing the effect of a particular form of problem behaviour as opposed to finding the cause and just talking about it! While naturally being interested in 'the cause' of any particular problem behaviour, it was this pragmatic approach of 'What can I do to change this situation/behaviour' which led me to specialise in Behaviour Modification.

Most behavioural work and modification of behaviour necessitates the use of Relaxation Training as an aid towards effecting change and so I became a Relaxation Instructor. Over the years ahead, I became wholly eclectic in my working methods as I derived ideas, styles, approaches from a diverse range of sources, theories and disciplines of working; selecting what I considered to be best practice from this and that along the way. It was this particular eclectic approach which gradually led me on to found the discipline and process of 'Anger Management' which mushroomed across the English speaking world within a matter of two years in the early 70s.

All of this, is to simply say that there is no 'one way' or 'no best way' for all varieties of problems and all types of people. Whereas one person responds better to 'this' approach, another will respond better to 'that.' While one person will more willingly accept the philosophy of one worker, another will instantly reject that of another. So the next time that you hear any purist advocate a universal panacea to counter one condition or another, take my advice and take a wide berth. 

Consider:if you were arranging a meal to cater for a wide mixture of people from all four corners of the world next week; some meat lovers, others vegetarians and some vegans, you wouldn't dream of offering them all the same food to eat, would you? And even were you to persuade them all to partake, you couldn't possibly make them chew and digest what you'd served or stop them thowing up later on!" William Forde: April 23rd, 201

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April 22nd, 2014.

22/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Some people behave like drama queens. They first overreact to something they don't like and after making a great fuss and palava, they resume their more normal 'on edge' disposition, at the ready to flare up again at the next small spark of disagreement.

In short, they like to make storms in a teacup and then complain about getting mad. They are their own worst enemies and yet, this type of behaviour isn't confined to nasty people alone. I know many a good person who cannot seem to exist unless they are at the centre of a perpetual crisis; usually one of their own making or design. There will always be a problem in their life or on the horizon because the maelstrom of their mind will always look for one!

I recall hearing of a couple of long-term elderly residents in an Old Folk's Home. Neither of the two had spoken to one another for many years, yet they daily entered into battle; talking about each other disparagingly to other residents and overall pulling the other person down. Despite this lengthy silence of over a decade's duration, neither could remember what had been the cause of their original fall out. Their daily disagreeable discourse continued to be carried out for a full fourteen years and only stopped when one of the two male residents died in their sleep, aged ninety two.


I was told that while no apparent remorse was expressed by the surviving pratagonist, he nevertheless entered into a permanent state of bereavement after the funeral until he also died some three weeks later. It was thought that the death of one had taken away the life purpose of the other.

Life is too short and is far too sweet to waste in quarrelsome mood and cantankerous mind. Have a good day out there." William Forde: April 22nd, 2014.








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April 21st, 2014

21/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"I congratulate Queen Elizabeth most warmly upon reaching her 88th birthday. When I was growing up on a council house estate in West Yorkshire, I recall being one of many thousands of children waving little flags as the Queen passed by in her car from a distance. Even today, sixty years on I remember the smile she wore that day.

Little did I realise then, that one day in the years ahead that I would see that smile up much closer when I called around to her house to see her. It had been indicated in a somewhat official letter to me by 'The Honours Committee' that she wanted to pin a medal on me. It was an MBE; that's one up from a 'Blue Peter Badge' for the unitiated. Though my official letter of recognition was stuffy, I could never say that about the Queen's smile. It hadn't seemed to change since the first time I'd glimpsed it from afar some forty three years earlier.

Indeed, the more I think about things, how little I ever imagined as a child that one day I would have a number of brushes with royalty. I have been privileged in my time to have spoken with Princess Diana and Princess Margaret by phone, to have had Princess Anne open a Disability Centre for me in Dewsbury by Bill's request. I also sat five rows behind the Queen and Prince Philip at a stadium in Leeds many years before my investiture; although on that occasion I could only see the back of their heads as they nodded their royal approval. I couldn't tell of what they'd approved at the time; it might even have been a Yorkshire pork pie they'd been scoffing.

I was interested to hear on the radio this morning that the famous photographer, David Bailey who has released the most recent image of Her Majesty, described her as having a mischievious smile. I can most certainly testify to that.


Which leads me nicely to my investiture ceremony at Buckingham Palace during 1995. As I approached the Queen to receive my gong, I was gobsmacked by Her Majesty’s lack of height, so much so that when she politely asked,'What kind of books do you write Mr Forde?' the only reply I could muster was, 'Good ones, Maam, good ones!' 

As the Queen gave me a straight-faced glance with a look that reflected confusion instead of amusement, I could sense one of the Beefeaters behind her raise his axe in anticipation of her next command as he moved forward three paces. Suddenly that royal ‘We are not amused’ look suddenly changed. The royal face softened, the majestic cheeks widened and the Queen laughed: not smiled as protocol decrees, but palpably laughed! It may have been the quiet mischievious laugh of a reserved lady and not a ‘Barnsley belly buster’, but a royal laugh it was nevertheless; and I’ve got it on video and photographs to prove it. Isn't life strange?" William Forde: April 21st, 2014.

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April 20th, 2014.

20/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Today is Easter Sunday and it is also the birthday of my first born James, who lives in France with his wife and two children.  James is the second from the left in the photo of my four boys.
We all remember our own children in different ways for a vast variety of reasons. 

When James was starting Primary school, me and his mother separated and he was brought up by his mother. At the time of separation, I charged him, being the first born, to look out for his brother Adam. Having been brought up the eldest of seven children, while such a request seemed perfectly natural to me, it was far too onerous a responsibility to place on one so young. To his credit, until Adam came to live with me some eight years later, James did look out for his brother. Looking back son, this was too much to ask of a young child, but in doing it, you demonstrated the calibre of the adult you grew up to be.


Today, you are a success in your job, you seem happily married and have parented two beautiful children, Sam and Jessica. I wish you a happy birthday son on this your special day and if you have a good look at all my sons, you'll be able to clearly see where all your good looks come from, given that I'm the only constant in the equation as there was more than one mother involved. I love you James. Happy birthday Dad x" William Forde: April 20th,2014.

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April 19th,2014

19/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Who can fail to rejoice in Nature's blessing on a day like today when the sun shines down and the moorland's pathways are waiting to be walked. Although i have started my chemo treatment this week, it it stays fine over the Easter weekend and I feel up to a stroll, I shall definitely put it on my agenda to take one with the three ladies in my life; my wife Sheila, my daughter Becky (up from London), and our dog Lady. Looking at the narrowness of that pathway though, we may have to walk in single file or hamper Nature's production of Easter Eggs in the making." William Forde: April 19th, 2014. 

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April 18th, 2014.

18/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"There are many things in life which create fear for us and fear of itself is a most natural and rational feeling to have. It is essentially the very start of our conditioning process that enables us to establish whether this or that is dangerous or harmless, real or imagined. 

Many years ago, my research into response patterns revealed to me that expressed fear is often the flip side of unexpressed anger and expressed anger is the flip side to unexpressed fear. To manage both effectively, we must express both appropriately!

Without fear we wouldn't survive. We'd never live long enough if we developed the practice of crossing the road without any regard to getting knocked down. Without some fear of falling we could never climb safely. Only fear of getting locked up in prison prevents many of us breaking the law of the land in some respect. Fear by the those of rational mind prevent overindulgence and addiction to certain substances which can kill us.

As an infant, if we are unfortunate to burn our hand touching the fire then we quickly learn not to do so again. Indeed, every time we experience pain anew, our body automatically cries out for help and registers the experience in its memory bank. 

Unfortunately, not all cries for help are at a conscious level or are obvious to others and can go unnoticed by them. Not all fears can be healthily expressed. My twenty five years as a Probation Officer led me to come across many children who were suffering the pain of school bullying, racism, mental, physical and sexual abuse and were frightened of either telling anyone or even having others learn of such knowledge. I have seen school bullying persist in adversely affecting a person's behaviour and responses for forty years after the event. Similarly, I have encountered people derided for being fat or overweight as a child and who became so obsessed that they became annorexic in adult life and died from their condition. I have worked with grown men who committed the most brutal of crimes and who themselves were brutalised as a child, either physically or sexually. 

In order to be healthily negotiated and dealt with, all such debilitating and destructive fears need to be faced, confronted and managed. Relaxation programmes, counselling, behavioural and cognative therapy, assertion training and anger management training are all appropriate ways to help.

The very best way is paradoxically the cheapest and is the most accessible way; talking to another and expressing your anger. Such talking and anger expression can be to a stranger, friend or even the very person who abused you all those years ago. 


I recall a young twenty-six-year old woman I once worked with who had been sexually abused by her own father as a child between the ages of eight and fifteen years. She told her mother at the time, but wasn't believed. She never told the police; knowing that to do so would mean the break up of the family. I worked with the woman in question for three years. During that time she revealed the tremendous amount of anger which she still kept in her body for the things her father had done to her. Then she proclaimed, 'And I can never tell him what he did now and how he ruined my life, because he's been dead and buried for four years.'

Three months later,I persuaded her to visit her father's grave with me and 'To tell him.' This she did. She cried, screamed and released all the anger she had been holding in her body for many years and once she had done so, she felt so relieved to have got it out. I won't offer you a fairy tale ending by telling you that she had solved all her problems, because she hadn't. She had made that essential start though in getting on with her life once more. However, I will point out as I did to her, that once released from her body, her anger would not return. She was warned that she would naturally feel anger again, but such would be anger for a new experience and not a trapped experience.

So, don't continue to be scared about your past. Far far better to be fearless about your future!" William Forde: April 18th, 2014.

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April 17th,2014

17/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Perhaps the most famous opening lines by one of the world's great authors were those penned by Jane Austen in 'Pride and Prejudice': 

'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.'

I recently came across those words again and began to wonder what manner of witticism might one of the famous Bronte sisters from Haworth come up with today when talking about men, women and their wants. As I mused over this question, my mind instantly went towards one of those totally inexplicable situations that every man has to face many times in their lives as a consequence of their partner's compulsive drive in wanting to shift immovable objects. They may have wrote:

'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any  man in possession of a good car and a bad wife who drives, must be in want of his head examining!'


What brought this thought to mind was a black post which stands about a metre in height and when it remains in an upright position, can be found at the bottom of Main Street in Haworth on the left-hand-side corner as you drive down the famous cobbles. This post was placed there around three years ago and to the best of my knowledge, it has been knocked down by a motor vehicle taking the bend too sharply on at least four or five occasions. The word (which I received from a unimpeachable Haworth source),is that on every occasion it has been a woman behind the steering wheel of the car that flattened it! Now, I know from my own limited experience that my wife Sheila is very attached to that particular post and has kissed it a few times on driving past.

The more I thought about this, the more I had to admit that women drivers exercise one particular kink in their behaviour that would never be found in a male motorist. Wait for it, girls..............When  a woman driver collides with anything or anyone, whatever it is they collide with is invariably 'stationary' and is in danger of causing no particular threat or harm. It matters not, be it a post, road bollard, traffic policeman, old confused person or whatever; if the object or person is 'stood perfectly still,'  you can bank on your good lady to hit it! Indeed, I'll go farther. Not only can they be relied upon to hit it and knock it down, but they'll even have the cheek to blame it for having been there in the first place!

But if ever a feral field mouse, escaped sewer rat or myxomatosis hare suddenly bursts across the road in front of them as they are travelling in a stream of bunched-up traffic at 40mph in a Friday evening rush-hour, they won't hit that poor creature. Oh no! The car brakes will automatically be slammed on; cars will swerve across the highway threating to flatten old women on walking frames and squash innocent children walking home from school. And as the deafening sound of screaching breaks and piled-up vehicles behind you reverberates in your passenger ears, your wife will smugly sigh in relief as she prides herself on her good driving for having 'missed it.'

The moral behind this story is clear, as any male with a woman who drives will know. If you ever have occasion to be on Main Street in Haworth (or for that matter any street), and you notice a car approach and it's a woman driving, 'Don't stand still' while she passes by, as that is the most dangerous position of all you could adopt. If wise, you'll take a long deep breath and get out of there as fast as your feet will carry you; satisfied in the knowledge that if it moves in a woman's presence, it's usually safe!

I can almost hear those female groans of 'male chauvinist pig' being uttered by some of you as you read this post. If that is so ladies, consider this. Why is it whenever you go in the lounge and catch your old fella with his feet up on the sofa having a breather and a cool beer and doing no harm to anyone, does it automatically make your shackles rise? Why is it that seeing such a sweet sight makes you feel it to be unnatural that someone should be 'so still' when you aren't? And why is it that you feel compelled to land him with some meaningless chore to carry out there and then which could have been easily carried out another time? Just kidding ladies. Have a nice day...... but let met know in advance the next time you take the car for a spin down Main Street." William Forde: April 17th, 2014.

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April 16th, 2014

16/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"As I start a six-month chemotherapy course today for my cancer condition, I know how lucky I am to have always been aware of an overriding purpose in my life along with a goal to achieve. I am aware however, that there are many people out there of healthy body who feel to have no purpose in their lives other than surviving from one day to the next. Such lost souls have no clear view of the direction they are heading in and therefore often finish up on the wrong track.

Have you ever felt that all of your efforts are pointless and that you're getting nowhere fast? If so, then this could be the ideal time in your life to sit down, take a long deep breath and reappraise your purpose and goals in life. I have indicated some soul searching questions of which your truthful answers will tell you a great deal about yourself and the values you currently believe that you hold dear and sacrosanct. Though some of the questions may seem strange and others somewhat obtuse, the deeper meaning they hold are relevant:


Questions I want to pose include:
(1) Do you work to live or live to work?
(2) Do you live to die or die to live?
(3) As a fat person are you entitled to go 'skinny dipping?'
(4) Does being a skinny person make you lean or mean?
(5) Do you believe that those who stir the shit pot should be made to lick the spoon?
(6) Are you able to distinguish the subtlety between justice and revenge and know which side your values fall on?
(7) Which would be easier for your conscience to live with: assisting a lynch mob to kill a child rapist or being part of an Army firing squad executing a 17-year-old soldier who'd been sentenced to be shot for having deserted his post when he was overcome by fear in battle-zone war conditions during world war circumstances? 
(8) Would you want to go to heaven when you die if you knew for certain that the partner you love and all your children are going to hell?
(9) If the answer to (8) is 'No', then would this desire to join your loved ones in hell prevent you living a good and honest life as you have always done until you die?
(10) Do you think it has been a waste of your valuable time doing this exercise or has it made you better understand who you are and in what you truly believe?" William Forde: April 16th,2014.

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April 15th, 2014

16/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"After a traffic accident at the age of 12, I was left unable to walk for three years. When eventually I did walk again, I had one leg three inches shorter than the other. This essentially left me wholly unbalanced.

Over the years ahead I engaged in all manner of sport and activities in order to learn to 'stand up straight' and for two years I even looked at the discipline of Indian Dance and its movements.

It was only twenty years later in my work as a stress management counsellor and group worker that I learned the true psychological and physiological importance of 'standing up straight.' 


In short, I learned that 'standing up straight' was physiologically incompatible with engaging in any negative, harmful or criminal behaviour. I learned that leading a non-crooked life meant learning to 'stand up straight.' For twenty five years of my working life, I studied the postures of hundreds of people under states of both stress and relaxation whilst they engaged in both good and bad action, criminal and non-criminal deeds. This research of mine, which I incorporated into my anger management courses, matched the findings of numerous other studies into behaviour posture.

I essentially learned that it becomes extremely hard to tell a person a lie when you look them straight in the eye; not impossible, but certainly very hard. Indeed, I learned that until a person can learn to stand up straight, they will not be able to walk straight, talk straight or live a straight and upright life. It is simply easier to do the right thing when stood upright and when doing the wrong thing, we invariably stand off centre and do not maintain eye contact.

In my work with many tense people who displayed addictive, criminal or problematic behavior patterns, none stood up straight when they did so. When however, long term positive change had happened within their response patterns, all stood up straight automatically.

It would seem therefore that the strict-sounding Army Sergeant-Major drilling his men or the old-time Teacher calling their class to attention or the Judge reprimanding a disrespectful defendant in his court knew something that we generally don't appreciate today. Perhaps, they were in effect 'calling their charges to heel' when they commanded, 'Stand up straight when you talk to me and take your hands out of your pockets, boy!'" William Forde : April 15th, 2014.

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April 14th, 2014

14/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"What a woman Ursala is. She is a moujik, which is an old Russian meaning of a hard working peasant. Every morning she gets up at 4.30 am and polishes her husband's working shoes. Then she does three hours ironing for other villagers to earn a bit extra for the family upkeep before she prepares her husband's cooked breakfast. 

She doesn't have time to eat at the table with him as she has to wash a couple of loads of clothes in the nearby stream and hang them out to dry before she begins five hours work in her part-time job as a lavatory cleaner in the town hall between the hours of 9.30am and 2.30pm.

Ursala arrives back home around 4pm after walking the six mile-trek from work as there is no bus transport after 1.30pm.  When she gets home she makes herself a cup of tea which is often the only nourishment that she's had since she left home, but often fails to drink it as there will be people calling to her house to collect their laundry. One and a half hours is then spent by her tidying up a piece of scrubland that her mother left her and upon which she one day hopes to grow some of her husband's favourite tomatoes. 

Then, following a quick body wash from a barrel of cold water in their back yard, Ulsala changes into some more presentable female clothes so that she can look attractive for her poor husband who has been grafting for seven hours as a platform ticket-collecter at the local railway station. She always likes to wear a fetching garment he will find pleasing to his eye. 

While Ulsala eats her evening meal with her beloved husband, she never lifts her fork before him and will await his sign upon his first taste of the food that it is good enough to eat. When the food test has been passed, Ulsala divides the dinner spoils accordingly: she will suck the fat as he chews the lean. Then when they retire for the day around 10pm, they always make mad passionate love before going to sleep so happy with each other and content with their day and way of life. Dream on, boys!

Now, come on and be honest, ladies. How many of you women out there managed to read half this spoof post of mine before your hackles started to rise? " William Forde: April 14th, 2014.

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April 13th,2014

13/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"The gateway to happiness, peace and contentment cannot be purchased by any amount of money or material assets. For many who live a life of permanent regret, the gate will forever remain closed. Even the strong willed of great determination yet vengeful heart will be unable to force entry to its green pastures that lay beyond.

And yet, the gate can be opened and its access to happiness, peace and contentment become widely available to anyone who gives out unqualified love, consideration, respect and genuine understanding of all whom they meet daily.

To give without any expectation of return is admirable when handing out favours and to give without doner identification when contributing to a charitable cause is also highly commendable. But where love is freely given to anyone either strange or familiar, prepare for it to be returned tenfold. 

So the next time you open a gate to passage new, gently enter and close the gate behind you. Walk in hope and enjoy your travels as you carry in your backpack your companions of unqualified love, consideration, respect and understanding. And should you part with any of these companions as you give them to others along the way, you will most surely meet them on your return journey in greater number." William Forde: April 13th, 2014.

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April 12th, 2014.

12/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Today is my brother Patrick's 65th birthday. I won't do him any disservice on his day of celebration by showing recent pictures of us both together which would only attract unfavourable comparison to the amount of hair on our heads we each have, but I will show a picture of Patrick, Peter and myself when I was 10-years-old, Patrick was 4-years old and Peter was a mere 3 years of age.

I remember the occasion well, as though it was yesterday. I was fed up of hearing Patrick and Peter complain about being the only kids on the estate without their own wheels. Every night they went to bed they prayed for a bicycle. Eventually I could bear their weeping and wailing no longer as it was ruining my beauty sleep which I badly needed. I went to the Post Office and withdrew all my savings, which I'd managed to put by from a paper round and with the  eighteen shillings and 3 pennies I bought two second-hand tricycles. They loved those wheels so much that after three months of riding them up hill and down dale, Patrick buckled the front wheel of his tricycle. He tried to pinch his younger brother's wheels, but despite being eighteen months younger than Patrick, Peter was bigger in size and wasn't having any of it! Patrick broke down and cried for me to get him another means of transport, but I gave him short shrift and told him to leg it!

He's been making his own way in the world ever since and apart from his hair, he doesn't seem to have lost out in his journey of life. Happy birthday brother. I love you. Big brother Billy x" William Forde" April 12th, 2014.

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April 11th, 2014

11/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Today is my sister Susan's birthday. Susan is the youngest in a family of seven children and being the eldest, there is a 14-year age span between us. Indeed, I was travelling around Canada and America as a young man when Susan was a mere 7-years old.


Consequently, though we be born to the same parents and into the same household, we were born in different times when the world was rapidly changing, along with the structure of close family units. Not surprisingly therefore, our respective recollections of being reared are so different in our individual experiences. Indeed, until more recent years when me and Susan have grown much closer, I didn't really know her, nor she me. Today I'm glad to say that the strong bond between both eldest and youngest of the Forde Clan provides a vital link between all seven of us and our Irish heritage. Each of us know who we are and where we come from; the Fanning family of Portlaw, County Waterford and the Forde family from County Kilkenny. It any of us are in danger of ever forgetting, we can rely upon our Susan to quickly remind us!

On the 31st,March, Susan's daughter, Evie Brown gave birth to Reuben, the latest boy child in our extended family. Reuben's birth not only reflects new life, but brings to his grandmother Susan, a source of happiness which will sustain her for many happy years to come. His birth will also mean one extra birthday card to add on to the extensive family list!

Welcome to the world Reuben Brown and many congratulations to his mother; my lovely neice Evie Brown. Happy Birthday Susan. I love you little sister. Billy x " William Forde: April 11th, 2014.

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April 10th, 2014.

10/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"Today is a good day! Yesterday, I attended the hospital to learn about the recent results of my biopsy. The consultant told me that I will start a six month course of chemotherapy next Wednesday to reduce the size of my body nodes and make my condition more manageable.

Learning that one has a terminal illness and coming to terms with the fact that all life is finite, including your own, is naturally a shock to one's system at first, but after the news has been digested, chewed over and swallowed, there are upsides.


So many times throughout my life I have seen films, heard stories or read tales about some fortune teller using the tarot cards to tell one's future. Occasionally, the card of death is turned to the horror of both teller and recipient. And yet, receiving such news isn't all downhill.

First, it allows one the opportunity to put things right that they might not otherwise get. It enables one to go where they have not yet gone; to do what they have not yet done and say what they have so far left unsaid. Surely, such an opportunity must be much better than leaving a person without the knowledge that they were loved by you; being hit by a ten-ton truck or a runaway train, having a fatal stroke in the middle of a birthday party or keeling over at a church wedding with a massive and deadly heart attack!

Having always been a person who has preferred to face the truth than avoid the facts, I wouldn't have it otherwise than it is. To anyone who has lived a full life, a good life and a happy life that has been blessed by family and friends; to anyone who has lived the life they chose to live and who met their soul mate, last love and best love along the way, there can be no greater happiness or regrets.

While none of us knows the very moment that final curtain will descend, I have been so blessed in my span of life to date to have taken my final bow on three occasions at the ages of 11, 40 and 58 years, only to discover that the curtain has risen again for another encore. I think that dying and waking up in heaven must be a lot like that." William Forde: April 10th, 2014.

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April 9th, 2014.

10/4/2014

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Thought for today:
Yesterday, I sadly heard of the loss of Balou. My friend Denise Gibson has kindly given me permission to offer this humble tribute to Balou who was much loved and is sadly missed.


"Often when we walk alone, we do not have to be alone. Sometimes when we walk alone, we choose to be alone.

We all walk alone when the path way isn’t wide enough to take another. Yet to occupy space alone where two could easily walk side-by-side is wasteful in the extreme.

Throughout our lives each of us will come into contact with wonderful people and beautiful creatures. If we are wise, we will chose to walk alongside them in their exploits and adventures. If we are fortunate they will elect to walk with us.

Our love for each other will remain forever constant as long as one chooses not to be the lord and master over the other and both are afforded a respect that is just and proportionate. And when the time comes to part and walking side-by-side no longer occurs, tread carefully as you retrace old walks, as feelings of the heart are often too fragile to easily settle until the ground has hardened and is softened once more with the season’s turning.

Farewell old friend. Farewell Balou." William Forde: April 9th, 2014.

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April 8th, 2014

8/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"What we experience and learn in our childhood, we invariably take with us into adulthood. All manner of behaviour is a learned response which is strenthened and reinforced in one's 'bevioural pattern' by its repetition. The particular type of behaviour (either problematic or non-problematic), if repeated often enough, will become an involuntary response we give out each time we are presented with a similar sensory experience from our past.


In my many years as a Probation Officer who specialised in stress management, behavioural change, relaxation and anger management, I witnessed the bodies of many adults reproduce specific responses to given situations which were first experienced and learned in their childhood.


This is why the effect of a bully, child molester or brutal parent can endure from childhood to old age unless one's old unhealthy and unhelpful responses are unlearned and exchanged with new and heathy body responses. To achieve this change of behavioural response, one requires to learn how to use three disciplines in conjunction with each other: Imagery, Relaxation and Behavioural Rehearsal (Mind control), (Body and mind control) and (Role play practice and real life practice). Any manner of relaxation or meditation discipline is suitable which enables one to gain access to one's imaginative processes.


So if ever an image on the television makes your partner automatically cringe, beware that they are not reliving a similar experience that they had as a child which is being involuntarily reproduced many years later because it is still trapped inside their memory bank and has never been emotionally resolved. Parents and adults, please give our innocent children of today the type of experiences which make our happy young angels grow up into happy adult angels; not sad ones!" William Forde: April 8th, 2014. 




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April 7th, 2014

8/4/2014

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Thought for today:
"'Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
in the forest of the night. 
What immortal hand or eye
could frame thy fearful symmetry.'

These wonderful words by William Blake were probably from the very first poem that ever impressed me as a child. I didn't have to know what they meant or indeed require an interpretation of 'symmetry' in order to feel how easily my ears received their natural resonance and beautiful vibration.


As I grew older, I heard the very same poetic magic resonate and stir my feelings of nationalism  and love of England in what became my favourite hymn, 'Jerusalem'. It was only later that I learned that these beautiful words had originally been penned by William Blake when he wrote, 'And did those feet in ancient time' from the preface to his epic 'Milton a Poem' in 1808. There the words lay majestically until Sir Hubert Parry composed the music in 1916 and the hymm 'Jerusalem' was given life as we know it today. I loved this hymn so much that I played it at my wedding to Sheila in November 2012.

Had I not decided to become a Probation Officer in 1970, I would have become a teacher after taking up a degree place offered to me by Bath University, reading History. Prior to then, I had worked in the mills of West Yorkshire as a textile labourer, foreman and mill manager. I had always been fascinated by England and its peoples; particularly during the time of The Industrial Revolution and how they had been oblidged to adapt to the vast changes demanded of them during their lifetimes.

As an adult in my twenties and thirties I discovered my love of art and I was particularly taken by a man who'd  campaigned and incited action against 'the dark satanic mills' of his time after having been inspired by the 'Book of Revelation.' His name was William Blake and he dreamed of a new Utopian society which was built in 'England's green and pleasant land.' 

Today, William Blake is remembered by myself as not only having fashioned and interwoven many of my cultural experiences from childhood, but as someone who throughout much of the past century did rouse noble aspirations in generations of school children in England and every other country and person with an English culture."
William Forde: April 7th, 2014.http://youtu.be/Sc9Ww3rmT7I


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April 7th, 2014

7/4/2014

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 Thought for today:
"How different is the life and times of young men and women of today compared to the period when I was their age. I remember my time in the mill and having to walk two miles to start work for 7am as the bus either got there forty minutes early or ten minutes late after the hooter had gone. In those days, the penalty was one hour's wage docked for being one minute late clocking in on the first occasion and if it happened twice in the same week, it was a sacking offence and you were promptly given your cards! 

My first job was at Bulmer and Lumb's Mill, Cleckheaton in 1957. I started on two pounds and ten shillings a week, from which I received ten shillings back from my mother to spend on myself from one payday to the next. Until one was engaged to be married, one's unopened wage packet was always handed to the woman of the house and woe betide any male who'd been found to have tampered with it betwixt work and home! Once engaged to be married, the young person would be allowed to pay 'board and keep' until the happy day they planned marriage. This allowed the possibility to save for one's bottom drawer when you moved from parental to the marital abode. It was only by the late 1960's when a young man began feeling a bit aggrieved if he was still tipping up his wage packet to mum after the age of 21 years.

It mattered not how posh or poor a property was that a couple could afford for their first matrimonial home, so long as it was their own place. Anyone with an ounce of self-respect would have preferred to have lived in the allotment shed with their newly-married bride than have her share the kitchen space in their mother's house or occupy the adjacent bedroom! As for saving for a place of one's own and starting off married life on the property ladder, all that was required was three year's economic hardship, scrimping and saving, working all the hours God sent in overtime and forgoing 'the nights out with the boys' for 'the nights in with the girl.' Sticking this out for three hard years was what was required in order to get together the deposit on a modest one-up and one-down terraced house in a cobbled backstreet, in the hope that you would be able to save more money for a larger property before the second baby was born.

Occasionally, there were those shot-gun weddings where a couple who'd been found wanting had been 'caught short' and were given what neither had expected. At such times, the parlour curtains would be partly drawn by the shamed parents to signify the loss of a lifelong dream for their once-virgin daughter while the pregnant bride-to-be would be forced to abandon hope of her all-white wedding dress along with the full church ceremony she might otherwise have had. Instead of walking proudly down the church aisle with her father by her side, she'd have to borrow a two-piece Marks and Spark's costume from Aunt Dot to wear at the five-minute-do they'd have at the Registry Office to which only close family members had been invited; though not all might come. For these trapped couples, they had no other option than being obliged to live with their mother-in-law until the baby had been born and a return to work was again possible.

Once newly married, the new husband and now man of the house returned to a lifetime of handing over unopened wage packets to the new woman of the house; his wife! She had now assumed the role of the chancellor of his exchequer and would grant him an agreed spending allowance for sweets, tobacco and beer rations after the rent and other necessities had been met. And if there was nothing left.......(wait for it)......... he got nothing  but fresh air to put back inside his pocket to play with!

Though work in the mill or factory could be arduous and life in the home wasn't always a bundle of fun, there was always merriment to be had between the mill workers, whether young or old. All the mill hands seemed to have been born with a wicked sense of humour. Workers in mills came in both sexes, all sizes and all ages, and it was this wide and varied mixture of daily social contact that kept the tedium of one's routine working day at bay. During their first day of work, every new worker in the 1950s and 60's was sent to the storeroom for the 'glass hammer' or a 'long weight' and were not seen on the mill floor again until day two. If today's Saturday night revelers and boozers think that they invented the practice of 'mooning,' then they never saw what happened to the new boy's trousers the very first day he had occasion to walk through a room of women machine workers who were determine to baptise his manhood in their tried and tested textile tradition, by oiling his todger!

By 1960 and the age of 18 years I had changed textile mills and was working a standard 11-hour-day with only one break of a half-hour at dinner time. We could all go to the lavatory, have a smoke or mash a cup of tea, providing we didn't stop the production line and kept our machines running in our absence. Hence, the practice of one machine operative looking out for their mate's machine was born and 'multi-tasking' first came into existence! You see, mill workers knew that to keep the cogs of the British Nation turning, a pairing agreement was essentially required with one's work mate; a practice that the Members of Parliament later stole off the mill workers of Yorkshire and Lancashire.

For the vast majority of us workers, we stayed in the same job for life. We lived on the same street with, played with, went to school with and worked in the mill with the same village folk we'd grown up with all our lives. From this close community bond we forged lifelong friendships and found marriage partners who knew and accepted our ways. When we married, it was invariably within our own class and those who dared to attempt to cross the social divide via the back door of wedlock were soon discovered once they opened their mouth and started to speak or were presented with a knife, fork and spoon to eat with in polite company. Often, the first 'give away' sign as to which side of the railway track one had been born on was discovered whether one 'ate' or 'dined or 'went to the 'lavatory' or 'toilet.' The clincher though was the time and title of their daily meals: you see, their 'dinner' was our 'tea!'

And yet despite such social differences and class distinctions that aren't experienced today, I wouldn't have changed one bit of my early life and work experiences for all the Cappuccino coffee one could find in today's Costa coffee houses. Bright children from working class homes could get to university via the 11-Plus exam pass to Grammar School and social mobility was possible for most to better their lot in life, if they chose or had the opportunity to take it!

I progressed from mill labourer through the ranks of working foreman, supervising foreman and mill manager between the ages of 15-26 years of age and I will always remember my earliest years in the mill as some of the happiest days of my working life. It was a hard life at the time, but it was a good life and an honest life and I'm so pleased that I was a part of those memorable times. 

When I look back on the 1950s and 1960's, I know that I lived through a time when great change was happening throughout society, though I could never have realised then how much of the country I had grown up in and loved would one day be lost forever to the people of England. Never could I have imagined the loss of proud practice, treasured heritage, cultural values, community spirit and the breakdown of the nucleus family which have occurred since. Never could I have believed that, as a nation, we would forever lose these precious aspects of 'the good life' to the ravages of sterile modernity and European emptiness!

I feel so so sorry for the youth of today. Though it was always a struggle from crib to grave for the working class man and woman, even in the 1950s and 60's there were choices we could make and there was always light at the end of the tunnel one could glimpse. Any struggle felt during those years wasn't a fight for sheer survival as it appears for so many to be today. I feel intensely for the young of the New Millennium as they continue their struggle through the economic collapse, mass unemployment, insufficient housing stock, educational loans, credit card debt and the moral morass that leaves millions mired in seemingly hopeless circumstances. Never in my wildest of dreams would I have believed how many people in their late thirties still live at home with mum and dad in 2014.

I will end for now as I'm just about to have dinner. I'll leave you to figure out the time of day it is!" William Forde: April 7th, 2014

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April 6th,2014

6/4/2014

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Picture
Thought for today:
"Sticking one's head inside the open mouth of an elephant to check out its tonsils can be an extremely dangerous thing to do and undoubtedly involves exercising a good degree of trust. However, compared to other aspects in one's life, it doesn't even begin to register on the 'trust barometer scale.'

Indeed, living one's life positively involves exercising much more trust than you could ever imagine. Living with and loving a best friend, parent, partner, spouse or child will necessitate you giving out more trust than sticking your head inside a herd of hungry wild elephants.

The first people we learn to trust are our parents, but as the poet Philip Larkin says in 'This be the verse', our mum's and dads often 'mess up' (polite description), our lives much more than we could ever realise.Then we trust our very best friend from meeting them at the age of 5 years, which works great until you reach your mid teens and they become smitten by the same member of the opposite sex as you do. When love comes in the window, trust and friendship will invariably tend to go out the door! When at last we find a partner to live with or marry, we invest all our trust in their honesty and fidelity. Indeed, I have often heard those spoken words,' Me and Fred have been together 30 years and I trust him completely.' While Fred's wife no doubt believes what she says, 'trust' will most probably have played less part in him remaining faithful to his marriage vows than him never having had the temptation or opportunity to be otherwise! Then, there's our children. Do we really trust them not to experiment with or do all of those things we experimented with or did behind our parent's backs when we were teenagers growing up?

Paradoxically, 'trust' will play no real part in our lives until we have been wronged by the very person we are asked to trust. 'Trust' will never become operative in our lives until it has first been given by us and has been breached and broken by the person we trusted.

Consider this situation: Fred suddenly decides to start attenting night classes after he's been married ten years and the marriage has started to lose its gloss. He leaves home at 7pm and returns from night class around 10.30pm after calling in for the customary drink with a few of the other students. Then after six months of Fred attending night class, you learn that he's been having an affair with Jenny (one of the woman at the same night class as Fred). That knowledge breaks your heart as you always trusted him to be faithful to his marriage vows. 

After much talking and soul searching, plus the promise by Fred that he will never stray again, you and Fred decide not to separate, but instead seem determined to give your marriage/relationship another chance. 

One year later, Fred decides to go back to night classes. Although somewhat uneasy, you agree. Then one night when he misses the last bus home after attending the pub for a drink after night class, he is given a lift to his front door by another night class student as it is pouring with rain. As the car door slams and Fred enters the house, his wife notices that the person who kindly dropped him off was Jenny, who ironically, she later learns, also enrolled to attend the same night class as Fred!

Now, it is at this precise moment when her 'trust' in Fred truly becomes operative for the very first time in their relationship. Will she trust him to act faithfully at night class next week as she watches him leave the house or will she expect him not to attend night class again while Jenny still goes there?" William Forde: April 6th, 2014.








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