FordeFables
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      • No Need to Look for Love
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        • 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
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April 29th, 2016.

29/4/2016

1 Comment

 
Thought for today:
"I have sometimes met a person getting on in years who cannot remember a time in their life when they did not have a dog as a pet. I have also met many dog lovers, whom upon reaching a certain age, would think it cruel to have another dog, even though they would love to have one; fearing perhaps that the new dog taken into their lives would most certainly outlive theirs. These thoughts came into my mind a few days ago when I saw this wonderful photograph on the Facebook page of my Irish friend Danielle O'Shea from County Carlow. It seemed to mentally challenge me to read the hidden thoughts of both man and dog in the image. Here is the short story I composed one hour ago and which I give first sight to any who care to read:

'Only once have I ever come across a dog lover who dared to defy the accepted wisdom of never acquiring a new dog in one's old age. He was an old man called Archie. Archie was almost 82 years old. He had been brought up with dogs, loved dogs immensely and had always had a dog. Whatever dog Archie chose, it would never be a pedigree. He believed that mongrels were the most affectionate and loyal of pets.

Archie had been married 51 years when his wife died. The couple had never been able to have children, so presumably they had dogs instead to lavish their excess love on. Having been the only child to a farmer, after his parents' death, Archie inherited the farmhouse, which became his marital abode. Though not rich, they had sufficient money never to be short and always have £10,000 in the bank for a rainy day.

After Archie's wife died, he missed her daily presence so much, that had he not had his dog to look after, he doesn't know how he would have got through the first two years of his bereavement. Exercising and looking after his dog kept him sane and kept him going, where under different circumstances he may have been tempted to give up the ghost! In short, Archie found the company of his beloved pet indispensible, especially at the end of the day when he sat in the lounge looking across at his dear wife's favourite chair. Archie would see the empty rocking chair he had bought his wife during their first year of married life. She loved that chair. Archie now saw it stood perfectly still in its state of disuse and this sad sight led him to think of happier days of youthful courtship and the romantic excitement of their early years of marriage.

It came to pass in Archie's 81st year of life that his dog, Paddy, died of old age. Archie felt the loss of Paddy more than the passing of any previous dog he had ever owned and his immediate instinct was to get another pet as soon as possible to fill the emotional void in his life. Before he could put this plan into action however, he was diagnosed with an incurable illness and told that he had less than a year left to live.

Initially, Archie thought what most pet lovers would have thought in his circumstances; namely that it would be cruel to get another dog now, and after both parties getting attached to each other, die and leave it to fend for itself. Archie knew that as he had no living family member or friend to adopt it, the poor creature would be taken to the dog pound and possibly put down within weeks of his departure. For the next month, Archie wrestled with his conscience until he finally came up with a solution to resolve his dilemma.

One month later, Archie visited an animal shelter where he looked over the dogs accommodated there, dogs in need of new owners. The manager of the shelter and Archie started to walk the line of dogs wanting a home. As Archie walked the corridor in the shelter, he passed numerous dogs who barked and wagged their tails at him, as if they knew that doing so gave them instant appeal. There were pedigrees, mongrels, big dogs, small dogs, aggressive looking dogs, cute dogs; dogs of all manner of breed and description, all begging to become someone's loving pet. Archie looked at each one lovingly, but walked on by.

When Archie arrived at the very last dog cage, at first, he thought it empty. He had to look twice before his old eyes saw its occupant, curled up in a back corner. The dog had no name and was a cross between a labrador and some other breed. It looked to be less than one year old, and like Archie, it appeared all alone as it lay there in its isolated state. Archie looked at the sorry creature and thought such a sight to be one of sin, a poor wee dog lying there all alone with its tail tucked in.

With tears starting to well in his eyes, Archie asked, 'Why is it here in this big cage all alone, when space is obviously at a premium?'

The shelter manager replied, 'Because of its condition. It is in great pain. It has an incurable and inoperable illness you see and is due to be put down at the end of today.'

Archie made up his mind on the spot and said,'I'll take her!'

Totally flabbergasted, the shelter manager reluctantly agreed, but only after Archie explained his full circumstances.

Archie took his new pet dog home and gave it the name of Fini. Over the next two years, both man and dog were each to defy the medics by staying alive. While both owner and dog continued to live with their terminal conditions, Fini miraculously started to show more of the signs of being an alert and alive dog from the beginning of her association and bond with her new owner, and Archie too welcomed their constant companionship and daily walks. Both Archie and Fini soon became inseparable and were never seen outside the company of each other. Wherever Archie was in the farmhouse, Fini would be at his heel and when both were outside in the yard, she would always position herself on the top of a grass mound where she could always see her master.

While Archie had made prior arrangements for Fini's upkeep to the rest of her natural days from his £10,000 savings and the sale of his home after he died, the money was never required for this purpose and instead was willed to the dog shelter from which Fini first came.

It is perhaps fitting that the relationship between man and dog ended as it had begun. On the day Archie died, he knew in advance his time had eventually arrived. It was 4.30pm. His stomach was now wracked with an intensity of pain Archie sensed would never pass. He blessed himself from the holy water font in his front room, donned his old walking coat and filled his last pipe of tobacco to smoke. Just before he went out the door, he prodded his wife's favourite chair into rocking motion, looked around the old place and sighed.

​Archie had never before gone for a walk without Fini by his side since the couple's first day together. Fini was the most obedient of dogs and as Archie set off on his final walk, he patted her gently and said, 'Bye lass. Now you stay there!' with tears streaming down his cheeks. It was as though Fini sensed the finality of her owners words and as she sat still on the small mound of grass outside the farmhouse, she whined the saddest of notes.

Archie heard her sadness, but didn't look back. He dare not. He knew that had he done so, he would have been unable to go on and he would have broken both his and Fini's heart in two. Archie walked on to the village square where he sat on a bench where he and his wife had often sat together, and lit up his pipe. Looking around, he saw the lamp post where his dear wife, Doonie, had first kissed him and raised his hopes for a future life together. Archie said a quiet farewell to dear Portlaw, the place of both his birth and death. As the Tannery work's clock struck five, Archie passed away.

Back home at the farmhouse, Fini had also heard the Tannery clock in the distance and recognised its significance in the life of village workers. All of the villagers of Portlaw who worked at the Tannery would set their daily lives by the striking of the Tannery Clock. The Tannery clock would call them to start their working day at 8am and to end it at 5pm. When she heard the clock, Fini knew that the end of her day had also arrived. She laid down on the grass mound, crossed her paws, curled up her tail and breathed her last.

​In accordance with Archie's last will and testament, a rider stated that when Fini died, she was to be buried on her favourite mound outside the farm house where a headstone made from the very best Connemara marble was to be erected in her memory. The headstone read:

'Upon this sacred spot are deposited the remains of one who possessed beauty without vanity, strength without insolence and courage without ferocity. Any obedience she gave was given out of unconditional love, not servility. Herein lies Fini, a creature with all the virtues of Man without any of his vices. God rest her soul.'"

William Forde: Copyright: April 29th, 2016.
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April 28th, 2016.

28/4/2016

0 Comments

 
Thought for today:
"I was born in Ireland and have lived in England since the age of five. I have always lived in West Yorkshire, with the exception of two years spent in Canada in 1954 and 1955.

I love West Yorkshire to bits. I love its history, its blend of cross-country culture, and its angry and rebellious authors of the past century. I am forever enthralled by  its wild moors and beautiful country scenery, which can sometimes be separated from its neighbouring sooted-stone mill-towns of the industrial age by less than a distance of ten miles. I love its long lists of protesters and freedom agitators who have never feared standing up to the establishment bully as they fought for their beliefs, always prepared to pay the price of hardship, be it forced feeding, transportation, imprisonment or life itself, whether they be Luddites, suffragettes, trade unionists, miners or animal rights protesters. I love Yorkshire culture, its weird ways, its capacity to  tell it as it is, its no nonsense approach to life, its superstitious customs and its daft sayings.

I also like the way that Yorkshire folk don't stand on ceremony and are never short of an answer, whatever the situation. The single piece of Yorkshire wisdom I most liked was the answer by a Yorkshire father to his 4- year-old young son who asked, 'How will the baby get out of mummy's tummy when it's born?', to which the dad replies, 'Th' same way it got in, son! Th' same way it got in!'

To me, Yorkshire is the true heart of England. It has often been a stand alone county when the rest of the country has been prepared to bend the knee. Yorkshire folk have always prized personal ownership highly and freedom and self-government above all else. We have always been the first to recognise that an English man's home is his castle. Why, even humble allotment holders will not let you start poking around in their plot of ground without you risking the prod of a pitch fork up your backside along with the battle cry of, 'Ge' out o' it, ye stupid bugger! Go on, scram 'fore I set th' dog on ye!".  

When June 23rd, 2016 arrives and you are invited to cast your vote in The UK's EU Referendum, I hope that all true Yorkshire folk will tell all those witless politicians in Great Britain, all those unelected European bureaucrats on the continent and any other faceless business bankruptee, cash conglomerate or monopoly of economic misery, where to get off!

As for those hypocritical international leaders of 'the free world',
 who cannot help poking their noses into the political affairs of other nations and advising them to do what they would never do, why don't they keep rowing their own boat instead of trying to sink ours!  And as for maintaining the so-called 'special relationship', so prized by fawning British Prime Ministers since Edward Heath fifty years ago, this lacks mutual commitment and when closely examined, is more 'superficial' than it is 'special.' America entered both world wars very late in the fight and only when it was forced to defend its own interests! On both occasions, America's entry into the boxing ring was ill timed;  first, when we were on the verge of winning fight one and then, when we were in danger of being severely knocked about by an opponent of superior force in fight two! I call nowt about that relationship spectacularly 'special!' America was serving its own interest then as it always has and always will; as it is doing today!

When I go into the polling booth on June 23rd and look at that voting slip, I shall keep my mind on all that England has taught me to cherish since my family emigrated here in the mid 40s. I shall remember those famous Yorkshire values when I'm asked,'What do you want cock?' As I place my X in the LEAVE column I will proudly say in my best Yorkshire voice, 'I want my own country back! I want the right to choose to live my way! I want us to control our own borders. I want us to decide the level of immigration we can cope with without placing an unbearable strain on our jobs, housing stock, welfare system, schools and hospitals. I want us to be able to take migrants from outside the EU as well as those from inside it. I want our Parliament to be supreme and enact our own laws! I want to elect the people who represent me, who legislate on my behalf and whom I can sack or retain every five years at the ballot box! That's all any right-headed Yorkshire person wants and that's what remaining in Europe can never give us! I want out! I want to leave! That's what I want cock!'" 
William Forde: April 28th, 2016.
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April 27th, 2016.

27/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"I have just been looking at my daily diary that my wife Sheila bought me and see that I was due in hospital today for my next blood transfusion, but that has been delayed a week; presumably more to do with a cut back in hospital resources and the doctor's strike than any less need of a transfusion. I am still going into hospital today however, to see the doctor there about this chest infection I have had a month and which will not clear. The good news is that my blood count has improved back to the level it was pre Christmas last. 

Were I to use an association word-test with Sheila, I'm pretty sure that the word 'goodness' would be the most prominent association with mention of her name. I have always believed that it's the good girls who bake, keep diaries, and flower arrange, and it's the bad ones who never have time!

Most of of my life, I have been one of life's more willing losers where attractive women have played their games. Often, the more beautiful the woman looked in feature, the worse they were in character. While all my relationships have taught me something about self and others, I have to admit, where good-looking females are concerned, until I passed sixty years of age, it didn't leave me any smarter! Like one of nature's most inept hunters, I kept falling into their traps!

I had to eventually concede that chasing good looks got me nowhere above that of having a good time; they told me nothing about the woman within. Let's face it, nice girls and bad girls don't look any different when one is skinny dipping in the river of exploration! And as to making moral distinctions between the bride that wears the white wedding dress and the one who doesn't, it could be argued that one nice girl is just another bad girl that didn't get caught!

It's a strange fact that while most of us can remember our first girlfriend/ boyfriend or recall our very first kiss, few of us are able to remember the names of all those in between, unless of course they had an impact on our lives. With me, it was always the bad girls who left the best and longest impression; theirs were the names I never forgot.

My contact with the opposite sex throughout my life has given me different things. Some women gave me happiness, some sadness, but all gave me the experience in knowing when I was next in danger of being ensnared by the traps they are known to set when their men folk are looking in the wrong direction.

My first wife had the face of an angel, but she sure as hell wasn't one! Wife number two could be both good and bad and it was this concoction that kept me very happy for the first twenty years of our marriage. Our happy union not only offered me the prospect of heaven, she knew how to take me there.

My third wife, Sheila, caught me off guard in the autumn of my life as I casually strolled through Haworth in the afternoon sun. Armed with a clip board that some market researchers use when getting the public to answer personal questions, she approached me. It was that innocent smile that set the trap, that smile which seems to offer everything, but in fact yields nothing. Over the next five minutes, I honestly answered every question she asked of me and like the wily chess player she is, it was at the end of the evaluation process, she made her master move and checkmated me. She delved into a basket at her side and presented me with one of the buns she'd just baked that morning. I graciously ate it and found it delicious. In fact, 'delicious' is a marked understatement, it was bloody marvellous and quite the best bun I'd ever had, and I told her so. Being a good and most astute woman, Sheila sensed she had come face to face with the best bad boy who'd ever come her way. Without a second thought, she threw her clip board to the ground, flung her arms around me, looked into my eyes and said, 'I'm having you, bad boy!'

Two years later, I allowed myself to fall into the last woman trap to come my way. Having tasted all her delicious wares, and only after she agreed to buy the marriage certificate, I consented to marry her. Sheila and I were married on my next birthday; a device that most forgetful men could well benefit from when it comes to remembering one's wedding anniversary! 

With a 14 year age difference (No, I'm the older one), I see Sheila not just as my beautiful wife, but also as my guardian angel who looks after me better than any other woman ever has. I know that she sees me in all my jolliness and probably thinks of me as the Santa who is always up and down her chimney. In fact, if she does see me as 'Santa', it's not because I'm rotund, positive, generous, cheerful and jolly whatever the weather, but because I can fill the nicest stockings and know all the addresses of where the bad girls live!" 
William Forde: April 27th, 2016
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April 26th, 2016.

26/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"They say that one's determination is the real difference between doing the possible and the impossible, but I say that it it is nothing less than 'faith' that is responsible; faith in self, faith in others and faith in God! Doing the impossible will sometimes involve believing in yourself more than you do in others and listening to yourself sometimes more than to the advice of others. I once read somewhere, 'It was only when someone told me that it was impossible to do and I believed them that I stopped doing it.'

Most of what I've learned about belief, I took from my dearly departed mother, who died thirty years ago today. My mother, being Irish from head to toe was one of life's dreamers. She believed in the power of honest dreams. To her, an 'honest dream' was your dream, not the dream of another. She always used to say, 'Dream your own dream, Billy, or someone else will dream it for you.' She strongly held the view that, only they who are prepared to believe in that which they cannot see, will one day come to see the thing in which they first believed. Only they can feel the faith. The impossible in life is often the untried and my mother brought me up to believe that all things become possible with belief.



When I was a growing child in my parents council house, my mother frequently spoke about the cottage she would someday live in. She would constantly describe it with red roses around the front porch. Given that my father was a labourer with a small wage and large family, I would often tell my mother that her daytime reverie was no more than a pipe dream that would never come to be. When she died, we carried her coffin from her council flat that she and my father had moved to after all their children had grown up, married and left home. I missed my mother more than my heart could bear at the time and over the two weeks following her funeral and burial, I was the one who went through her belongings as dad did not feel up to it. Mum possessed very little and therefore left this life with not much more than she came into it; except her dream of one day living in her very own country cottage with red roses gracing its front porch.

I had always thought it impossible that my mother's dream would ever come true, but in a way I was proved wrong. As I looked through her belongings after her death and cried with each item I found attached to a memory of good times past, I found a photograph of a cottage that had roses around its front porch. I had no way of knowing if the roses in the photograph were red, as the photograph was in sepia tone, but given that my mother's favourite flower had always been a red rose, I am happy to believe that the cottage flowers were red roses also.

What has all this to do with belief, I hear you ask? An old sepia-toned photograph image of a cottage with front porch framed in roses is not an actual cottage that my mother was to one day live in. But you see, that's precisely what it was! All of her life, my mother was a dreamer. All of her life, my mother did live in that country cottage that was locked in her mind. It was her dream cottage, her mental escape which she daily visited as she worked her fingers to the bone scrubbing the floor and doing other household chores in our council house on Windybank Estate. I never knew then that as she swept the pathway in front of our Windybank home, the image she held was of sweeping her cottage pathway and clearing away the fallen rose petals.

It is no coincidence that from the many images I cherish today, that country cottage scenes hold a special place in my heart, or that every house I have lived in has always had roses near its front door, or that I now live in a cottage type property in a beautiful countrified setting. I believe that I am probably living out my mother's dream and by so doing, as she is always with me in my heart, she is living it out with me also. Only he who can see the invisible can do the impossible!

There have been many occasions in my life when I have seen logic defied and a number of times when I have defied it myself. I have come to believe in my old age that the wisest among us use the word 'impossible' with the greatest of caution, and I have come to know that the ones with the greatest capacity to believe in self, others and God, use it not at all.

My mother, during her life, chose to dwell in the possibility of her dream to which her imaginings knew no limit. So many folk miss out so much today by their incapacity to believe and their reluctance to dream. Hold on tight to your beliefs, let no other shake your faith. Place your own red roses around your country cottage and let no other dream your dreams. Below is my mother's favourite song which she sung (mostly out of tune), throughout my childhood. It is sung by one of her favourite singers who became a good friend of mine from 1990 onwards. I miss you, Mum. I love you." William Forde: April 26th, 2016.

https://youtu.be/Y5RhWVlXF0Q
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April 25th, 2016.

25/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"There are some things in life we never forget, our first kiss being chief among them. Mine was Winifred Healey when aged ten. We sat next door to each other in class. Ever since I first set eyes on Winifred, I longed to kiss her and when our lips first met, I  knew that we were meant to marry, have a large family and live happily ever after. We first exchanged kisses during a party game of post man's knock. With neither of us being experienced in the art, we didn't know where precisely to place our noses. After a minute's fencing she landed her fatal blow. I found my virgin kiss to be like love's first snowdrop, innocent but oh so suggestive of spring to come! I must confess that I followed my mother's advice and didn't close my eyes when we kissed, just in case Winifred was laughing at me.

That night I went home happier than I'd ever been and was so pleased with my catch that I stole an engagement ring from the grown up sister of my best friend, Peter Lockwood, which I gave to Winifred at school the next morning. Being the only ten year old who'd given his ten year old girlfriend a diamond engagement ring, by 4pm that day, when school was out, an all points bulletin was out on me and I was the 'number 1' criminal on Windybank Estate. I was taken to the Police Station in Cleckheaton by my dad, where a stern Bobby read the riot act and gave me a 1952 police caution; a clip across the head.

I had captured Winifred's affections, but alas, couldn't keep them or her. By the age of sixteen, she had scurried off to a convent to live a life of penance and become a nun. That was the first time I ever contemplated becoming a priest, but that thought left my head as soon as I met the delectable Doonie from Portlaw in Ireland. Doonie taught me when we kissed where to put my nose, tongue, hands or any other body accessory required. That's the trouble with kissing the older and more experienced partner; one never know where it ends up. It can start quiet innocently, and while it does not necessarily spread germs, it does lower one's resistance.

Nobody ever knows what lies lurking behind a kiss, especially when it comes from the lips of one who knows how to kiss and both parties have crossed the threshold of their late teenage years. More often than not, an upper persuasion can lead to a lower invasion and before you know it, a shot gun wedding is in the offing with young parenthood soon to follow.

I have seen too many mates in my day (1950s and 60s), marry far before their time, 'doing the right thing' after 'having done the wrong thing.' Most marriages lasted or were made to last then, though I strongly suspect that after the birth of their fourth or fifth child, the kissing between the couple became less frequent and more peckish than one of romantic starvation. Perhaps the first sign of a marriage growing staler is shown through the nature of the kiss; whether it is given out of desire, mere habit or consolation?

I have long been interested in the different customs of the kiss between one country and another and the different language a kiss speaks. First, there was the kissing of the hand by both French and English gentlemen. Next, some countries greet with a gentle kiss on one cheek, others on two. Then there are the Americans, who hold the record for filling their life with empty gestures. The Yanks have always gone overboard with their superficial welcomes and displaying an art of falseness that enables them to kiss either friend or foe at a social gatherings in precisely the same manner. They simply get around this dilemma by kissing the air while they are really thinking, 'Kiss my ....'

I know that I was born in a different age and could never hope to compete with the expected kiss of a young boy and girl today. In fact, it makes me fair breathless just thinking about it. Imagine someone from the 1940s, 50s or 60s telling a young person today, 'I married the first man who kissed me', they'd think them a fool.

And then there's Sheila's kiss. While I never did marry the nun on the run, at least I settled for a convent-educated bride who had the power to capture my heart and soul. One kiss stolen from her and I was imprisoned forever. However many girls and women I have kissed over the years, I could now close my eyes and know Sheila's kiss without fail. In fact, I swear that were she to come back into my life and kiss me on my brow when I was dead, I'd feel it!" William Forde: April 25th, 2016.

My signature song during my wild days of youth by my then favorite singer Dion:

https://youtu.be/TCxZbkwkvGE
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April 24th, 2016

24/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"I was listening to the radio one morning last week when I heard about someone who had found a letter in a bottle drifting in the sea. The date on the letter was 63 years earlier. The radio presenter never told us the message which the bottle contained, so over breakfast this morning, I composed one it might have been. Then, shortly after, I saw the enclosed image somewhere on Facebook and felt that my composed words matched word to imagined thought of the girl looking out.

'Someday soon when I am grown up, I'll do what I want to do and go where I want to go. I know that it won't always be easy, but it will be easier than living here since you died last year, Mum.

The trouble with mums is that they hold our hands for moments in our childhood, but capture our hearts for life. I can still feel your arms around me, Mum, whenever I cry. Your comforting hug seemed to last a lifetime before you finally let go. Only you possessed that magic rub to make my bruised knee stop hurting when I fell on the road. It was you who never doubted my worth of who I'd one day be. Only you believed I could go farther than I'd dare let myself go.

They say that all children must someday loses their innocence, but I know that to be a lie. We don't lose it; it is taken away through the tragic circumstances of one's life like you were, Mum! Once, when I was happier, I never thought about the future and it seemed so far away. My innocence of thought and ignorance of real hurt protected me and left me free to enjoy myself like no adult can. I felt forever safe knowing that my mum was there in the background. Then when you died, Mum, I started to fret about the future without you and the uncertainty of my life. That was the day I left my childhood behind and became a grown up person in a young girl's body overnight.  

When I marry and have my first child, Mum, that's when I'll miss you most. I'll miss your absence at my wedding, at my child's birth, at its Christening and at all the birthday parties and school concerts Grandma won't be there. I know now there will be empty moments in my future life, moments which no words will ever fill. I know there will be times that my aching heart will know no end. Every birthday anniversary of you that comes around, every Christmas, every family celebration will remind me that you are no longer here. Those will be the times it dawns on me anew that I'll never hug my mum again.

​Today when I awoke and saw the calendar with the remembrance date of your death, I cried. But when I came out here and started to think once more of the happier times we spent together, I knew deep down that you would never die and leave me, Mum. People only die when we forget them and I'll never forget you, Mum. I love you, Mum and I miss you oh so much.Thank you for always having been my Mum'
" William Forde: April 24th, 2016.
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April 23rd, 2016.

23/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"There is one aspect about myself that has always puzzled me. Why do I have a good head of hair (despite my three younger brothers having very little to comb), and a hairless chest? For many years I didn't know what to make of this until one evening I was watching an English broadcaster and naturalist presenting his 'Life Series' on BBC television. The programme in question saw him sitting remarkably close to a family of gorillas in the forest when suddenly it dawned on me that these mighty creatures had smooth chests.

Later reading and research led me to discover that whereas the hair on a man's chest is thought to denote strength, this is no more than an old wives' tale. I also learned that the gorilla is the most powerful of bipeds and has hair on every place on his body 'except for his chest.' From that moment on I have had an affinity with gorillas  and the more I learned about their dignity, 
the more I wanted to share their space.

Then as fate would have it, in later life I met my wife Sheila who was born in the Chinese year of the Monkey and affinity was instantly shared. Like the gorilla and myself, she has no hair on her chest either and scratches her bum when she thinks I'm not looking! Funny old world, ain't it?" William Forde: April 23rd, 2016.
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April 22nd, 2016.

22/4/2016

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 Thought for today:
"Man is the only animal that blushes or needs to, for we have much to be ashamed of when we examine our dealings with the remainder of God's creatures who roam our earth and the sacred ground upon which nature is rooted.

When I think about the degree of cruelty that mankind has inflicted upon the animals of this world over the centuries, it does not surprise me in the least how many sensitive beings will turn vegetarian or even adopt a vegan's lifestyle. When mankind went on the march of progress, we despoiled the earth and all its goodness in our search for natural resources to satisfy our growing appetites and ugly vanity.

When it comes to animal welfare, we humans are the greatest of the earth's parasites and most often the cruellest of all its creatures. We may consider ourselves the most intelligent, but that doesn't make us the smartest. Because of our love of ivory artefacts, we are reducing the earth's elephants to the point of extinction to gain their tusks. Our fashion vanity and love of furs is endangering the most exotic and exquisite animals on the planet. We are emptying our medicine cabinets when we destroy our rain forests, we pollute the air by our deforestation of the land and poison our soil by growing genetically modified crops in it. Even the creatures we domesticate for mankind's comfort and pleasure, we often abuse and mistreat. As the years advance, civilisation regresses with a vengeance that would make Satan smile.

When considering the human race, the writer Mark Twain wasn't far from the mark when he said it was a pity that Noah didn't miss the boat. I often think it strange that as children, we can see the truth and consequences of certain actions about mankind's dealings with humans, animals and nature with a clarity and certainty that we seem to abandon in adulthood. This seems to be the price all adults pay when we stop searching for meaning and consequence in our actions.The more we embrace consumerism, the less compassion we seem capable of exercising. As Voltaire observed, 'As long as people believe in absurdities they will continue to commit atrocities.' 

If the world is to survive into a more circumspect age where both Nature and Nurture are preserved and protected with all the dignity they deserve, it is time for humankind to take the next evolutionary step and move from human to kind.

During the 1990s, the children of all Kirklees Schools worked with me on a project entitled 'Our World.' This project involved children of Kirklees bringing to the attention of their parents and other adults, how adults are ruining our world. Helping us to spearhead the project was the environmentalist, the late Anita Roddick and Robert Swann, the antarctic explorer and first person ever to walk to both Poles. The Prime Minister and his wife John and Norma Major also supported the project and wrote a letter of appreciation to the Children of Kirklees Schools for bringing the matter to the attention of adults. Myself and Anita Roddick assembled 1,000 disabled children at the Huddersfield Railway Station and after the police stopped the traffic for half an hour, we all marched to the Huddersfield Town Hall where we read from a book entitled, 'Our World' that contained environmental stories which had been written by myself and the winning schools of Kirklees. Hundreds of children, led by a professional singer friend of mine was the choir of 'Our World', the only song  I have ever written and jointly composed with the late John Foyle. The song 'Our World' was then recorded in a studio, sung by Kevin Carville and backed by the children of Emily First School in Huddersfield. The recorded production was paid for by National Lottery money and became one of six original songs in my musical play, 'Douglas the Dragon' which is freely available for downloading from my website by any school or operatic/drama group globally. The song can be accessed by:
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/uploads/1/0/1/5/10153721/04_our_world.mp3
The next time you happen to come across any survey which rates mankind as being the highest animal, treat its findings with a large dose of healthy scepticism, as man was probably the only animal who filled in the form and returned the questionnaire!" William Forde: April 22nd, 2016.
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April 21st, 2016

21/4/2016

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. Thought for today:
"Today, my post is a celebration of life. Two figures instantly come to mind, the birthday of our 90 year old monarch Queen Elizabeth and the comedienne, Victoria Wood who died yesterday. Both can rightly be said to have been part of the British institution. I met and spoke with both women in the 1990s, the Queen for a few minutes when she presented me with a medal at Buckingham Palace and Victoria for around an hour at the home of a friend. I expected to find the Queen formal, but didn't, and Victoria somewhat jokey instead of very serious. It is life's mystery how one person can die long before their time while they still have much to do, while another possesses the constitution to go on and on and on, God bless her Majesty. Long may she live.  

​After a cold winter I curl closer to May, comforted by her warmth and in the sure knowledge that her blossom will pleasure my eyes. For the past month, a bad chest which refuses to leave me has effectively kept me housebound, and I long for that freshness that being inside can never bring. I am also looking forward to my holiday in Crete at the end of next month with Sheila. Blessed is the season which engages our world in a conspiracy of hearts and brings together man and woman in a perfect place of remembered love.


The past year has been sometimes difficult to negotiate and as soon as I have got rid of one ailment, a new one has appeared to test my pain threshold, body endurance and mental resolve. The absence of oxygen in my blood adversely affects the functioning of my major body organs, leaving energy levels depleted and making mobility harder to accomplish. At least my regular blood transfusions allows me one good week in the month when I feel like dancing, even though my dancing shoes now rest concealed at the back of my wardrobe, highly polished, but unlikely ever to be worn again.

Between the ages of 11 and 14 years, I could not walk following a traffic accident in which I incurred multiple injuries, including damage to my spine. Being immobile at such a young age when other girls and boys were outside playing in the sunshine was, at first, greatly resented by me until someone told me that there is a power in the mind that the body will never know. I also recalled my mother once telling me, 'Billy, free your mind and widen your horizons.' The following ten years involved me reading, learning and delving into eastern traditions of meditation and all manner of mysterious musings. While my initial purpose was to walk again, that reason was soon surpassed by a much loftier one; learning to be happy with myself and remaining true to the most important person of all; me.  

My work as a Probation Officer enabled me to spend twenty five years working to unify the mind and actions of troubled beings in a unity of purpose that helped them stop offending and become healthier and happier individuals. During this period, I marvelled from the folk I worked with, their strength of character at the height of adversity. I learned of the tremendous courage one is capable of displaying, even as they struggled from the bottom of the pile of earthly opportunities, fearful of their past and frightened for their future.  I learned that real courage is being scared to death and still taking the next step forward and I discovered that true courage comes not from learning to walk again, but daring to live again!

After retiring early on medical grounds in my early 50s and becoming more incapacitated from my 70th birthday onwards, I feel blessed that I still possess a positive and active mind and still retain my full mental faculties in relatively good order. When I look back, the one piece of advice I would give any youngster today would be to dream your own dream and control your own destiny or someone else will try for you. I would tell them to be their own judge in matters of the heart and not be undermined by the opinion of others. I would say, 'Stay positive in all that you think and say and you will find that all that you do will also be positive. When people undermine your dreams, predict your doom, or criticize you, remember, they’re telling you their story, not yours. Do not allow them to dump their negativity on your doorstep.' 

I am eternally grateful for having an active and creative mind and my reading and writing keeps me occupied on most days between 9am and 3pm. With my condition, I tend to work when I can and rest when I must. I have always found that helping to lift the load of another is a sure way of lightening one's own burden and it therefore pleases me that my daily posts are known to bring comfort to a few. I enjoy writing immensely, for it gives me the mental exercise that keeps my body functioning. Being a man who has always finished what he starts, when I finish writing one story, I derive much comfort in starting another as this keeps my heart working as I walk the beat of my daily round of past memories." William Forde: April 21st, 2016.
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April 20th, 2016.

20/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"Today is my oldest son James' 42nd birthday and I would not dream of letting it pass without lovingly acknowledging it. Nor however, will I express anything less than the truth in my post. James lives in France with his wife and two children, Sam and Jessica. Both he and his wife have well paid jobs with their firm and enjoy a lifestyle that most people will never aspire to. And yet, had I the power to change his circumstances and approach to life, I would do so without the slightest hesitation.

Had I the power, I would make him a less material person and a more emotional one. I would make him less concerned with status and overall lifestyle. I would take away his proneness to repress his feelings and endow him with the ability to be expressive enough to say, 'I love you' to all the people he loves and to those he does not, tell them why he feels thus. I would like his love and respect, not particularly as a father, or a past husband to his mother, but as a man who did his level best to do what he thought right for his children since their birth to this day.

James and his brother Adam (entirely two different personalities), were children of a broken marriage that I had for 13 years with their mother. I did not choose to end that marriage, I did everything possible to keep it alive, but I failed to convince the children's mother likewise. Despite believing myself at the time (and since), to have been the better parent to our children, my Irish, Catholic background foolishly led me to conclude that the custody of children aged 3 and 5 years was better with their mother than their father. This was why I eventually dropped my objection to their mother's application for their custody, transferred the sole ownership of our paid-for three-bedroomed modern house to her and undertook to pay off any joint loans and provide ongoing child maintenance. 

The separation settlement I made enabled our two children to continue living in the same house and going to the same school after parental separation; it minimised their level of disruption and provided their ongoing financial security without my presence in the home. I have no regrets whatsoever about financially settling everything on her and keeping nothing except my books.That decision was the best decision any husband could possibly have made, but the decision not to fight for custody of our two children (whatever the emotional cost at the time), was the worse decision this father ever made in his life. It is the one decision I most regret, and my judgement was so wrong in its making.

However seemingly amicable the separation of man and wife appears to be when marriage fails, wherever children are born to that union there is a heavy price to pay. I refer not to money outlaid in divorce settlements or ongoing maintenance for the children's upbringing, but to the little minds of children which are so often twisted and distorted by the lies of either parent in dispute and denial. In situations where marital breakup and divorce is expensive, protracted and highly charged with anger, misspent emotions and bitterness that aggravates access to children, the situation becomes much worse and the consequences ever greater. Children born to such unions are undoubtedly left emotional scarred for the rest of their lives. 

Before my son James went away to university, despite him having some emotional reservation to identify with my second wife, he did get on with the children to my second union as the photo with him and my youngest son William shows.

Since obtaining his degree however, he has gradually grown farther and farther away from me in his concern and affection. Had I been a bad dad to him, I could better understand this distance, but the truth is quite the reverse. His remoteness and emotional detachment started with the receiving of his degree in London to which I was not informed or invited, but still attended in the background. It carried on at his wedding which took place out in Switzerland and which I attended with my second wife and children to that marriage. Not only did he fail to mention me once in his groom speech, instead heaping fulsome praise upon his father in law, but he even set up the hotel sleeping arrangements so that I shared a bedroom with his brother Adam and not my second wife, Fiona. Since his wedding, the greatest frequency of contact I have had with him and my only grandchildren has been one visit a year and two phone calls a year. I have sometimes received a birthday card and I have never received a Father's Day card from him. Since I developed a terminal illness four years ago, he has visited once and I have seen my only two grandchildren once, who were accompanied and supervised by my ex-wife's cohabitee whom they call 'granddad.'

I do not know if you read my postings James, but if you do, please believe that I recount this situation we share, more in disappointment than anger. I do not speak the words I say today to hurt you in any measure or because of my failure to understand you. I know that the separation of me and your mother hurt you then and left you bewildered and feeling that dad had abandoned you. Parental separation undoubtedly led to a high level of self reliance and a propensity not to trust others as easily in adult life as you did as a child; along with a determination to succeed in your job that keeps you more emotionally distant as a person than is healthy.

My words today are voiced with my most sincere desire that they may help you reassess your stance on life and in particular towards me, your father. I wish you a very happy birthday, son and it is my everlasting hope that before I die that you make your peace with your father, yourself and your past. I love you son. Dad x" William Forde April 20th, 2016.




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April 19th, 2016.

19/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"Show me an adventurous girl any day of the week that isn't afraid to jump in puddles for the sheer hell of the experience and I'll show you a perfect partner, a good mother in the making, the warmest of wives and an individual who will never be taken for granted or thinks less of herself than any man. Show me the devilment in her eye and I'll show you the God in her nature. Any woman who exercises the blind faith to leap into the unknown of a man-made-world and displays the confidence and conviction to refuse to be taken on any terms other than those of 'equality,' is my kind of person. 

For most of my adult life as a Probation Officer and Stress Counsellor, I specialised in working with thousands of stressful people. I invariably found that women tended to have twice as many breakdowns than men, populate the hospital wards more, experienced more anxiety issues and were more likely to feel less confident and see themselves as failures than their male counterparts. I also found that they took on the greatest load, they did without more than their man and they allowed themselves to feel more responsible than their man when problems arose.

My own research and historical knowledge over the years into this wide disparity between the two sexes led me to conclude that man and woman have never shared an equal playing field and sadly still don't. 

When it is women who have had centuries of being put down by men while being denied access to all manner of equality and positions in society: when it is women who are expected to make one week's housekeeping stretch over two and feed the family without going into debt: when it is women who are responsible for birthing the new generation while being expected by man to maintain a female form that looks ten years younger than one's age; and when it is women who have always borne the biggest burden when the bundles of hardship carried were being distributed, no wonder the most popular catchword of the late game show host, Cilla Black, to capture the nation was, 'Surprise! Surprise!

Over the past seventy years, the changes where I consider progress to have been most made and warmly welcomed have been witnessed in the growth of greater equality between black and white and woman and man. There has been great leaps and bounds made in reducing the elements of racism and sexism in British society, but we deceive ourselves if we wrongly believe that inequality no longer exists in these areas! There still remains an injustice, inconsistency, disparity, incompatibility, dissonance and discrepancy between the black and white citizen and both sexes. Perhaps, for some men and women, the differences may prove irreconcilable; hence the lesser importance society places on marriage today and the greater incidence we witness of relationship break ups and divorce?

I have always held the view that in the struggle for any form of equality, that the wider the understanding of the cause, the more likely it is to be successful when the person/group at its centre is its most vocal and demonstrative advocate. Blacks have achieved greater advancement for blacks than whites have ever manage on their behalf, just as women have done more for advancing the cause of women than any man ever did on their behalf.

The eventual obtaining of Civil Rights in the 1950s and 60s in America only came about when it was black people who stood their corner and put their lives on the line! So it was with the Suffragettes in the early 20th century, who endured imprisonment, starvation and death to advance their cause.

Women, wake up to the inherent wrong you have suffered for countless millennia. It is your actions that will bring about equality between the sexes far quicker than any well intentioned man ever could! Your life was given to be enjoyed, not endured. Understand that there is no situation or person incapable of being changed, no feeling that is ever final. When life is hard to take in, that is the time to be easy on yourself and to forgive your mistakes. Be not indebted to those in your life whom you have been told you owe the most, namely men, because the customs and laws governing all their accepted teachings were done by men!

My message to all is this. Pay your dues to the ones who made you the person you are, your family, friends, parents, your God. Jump in that puddle! Rejoice in happy moments and time will not pass you by, for there is no better repayment for happy times than to enjoy them.
When that day comes that you lie upon your last bed and your past life floats across your eyes, make sure its worth watching and proves not a disappointment." William Forde: April 19th, 2016. 
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April 18th, 2016

18/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"Sooner or later in life, we will all take our own turn being in the position we once had someone else in. It is a form of Karma; a spiritual principle of cause and effect where the intent and actions of an individual influence the future of that individual. Good intent and good deeds contribute to good Karma and future happiness, whereas bad intent and bad deeds contribute to bad Karma and future suffering. In short, be good to others and life will be good to you, or be bad to others and life will return with a sting to bite you on the bum! We must be aware of our own emotional landscape before we can recognise the perspective and outline of others." William Forde: April 18th, 2016.
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April 17th, 2016.

17/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"There are few things more enchanting than a curious mouse when viewed against the backdrop of Mother Nature.

See one in the corner of your bedroom, run across your lounge or in one of your kitchen cupboards and you may instantly recoil, but view one in more pleasant and less threatening surroundings and they quickly transform in image from vermin into some more favourable and acceptable creature merely seeking its comfort.

The very same is true of some humans whom you may have grown to dislike or who are not welcomed into your surroundings because their very presence creates threat and discomfort for you. It is often only through getting to know them better in their natural environment that a greater understanding and appreciation of their nature and disposition can unfold.

There are far worse things in this great big world than that of being the smallest of creatures seeking nourishment and sustenance. One of my late father's oft repeated quotes was from the mouth of his film star hero, John Wayne who once said, 'The first is first and the second is nobody!' I fear that my father, along with his buddy, John Wayne, couldn't have been farther from the truth.Think about it for a moment. In life's tender trap, while it may be the early bird that catches the worm, common sense tells me it is the second mouse that gets the cheese!" William Forde: April 17th, 2016. 



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April 16th, 2016

16/4/2016

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Thought for today:
'I Remember' by William Forde


'I remember when you last were here,
and all the times that were so dear.
When you held me in your loving arms, 
controlled my world with all your charms.
I remember.

I remember what  you did to me,
I'll remember for eternity
the way you swept me off my feet,
the way you made my life complete. 
I remember.

I remember sharing all we had, 
be it good or be it sad.
You kept the faith and fought the fight,
you kept me warm on that last night.
I remember. 

And now alas you are no more
than salvage on some foreign shore.
I cry today, I'll cry tomorrow,
and wait in vain amidst my sorrow.
I remember.'


William Forde: Copyright 16th, April, 2016.
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April 15th, 2016

15/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"It is said that we never forget our first love, our first kiss, the first time our body held feelings it had not held before. However old we are, whatever the nature and extent of our experiences, nothing will ever be able to erase that distant memory of most innocent love in the summer of our youth.

There is a bitter sweetness in love's young dream. The young boy or girl does not so much 'fall in love', but rather 'trips over it.' It is mostly an infatuation that is mistaken for love; a youthful yearning that leads to more adult thoughts and temptation.Young love deceives at every twist and turn, making us afraid to lose that which we think, but do not have. When first love becomes a physical love, it can be so tumultuous and passionate that it becomes a violent journey that is bound to crash. Far, far better to keep your first love an innocent love, a love that seventy three years of fading memory will not blot out, a love that time itself can never change.

During my life I have been with many women, some good, some bad, most of them beautiful in looks, but not all. Outside the names of those I have married, I cannot recall the names of countless others who have kept me company along the way; that is all except two or three, of which my first was Dooney Quinn. Now let me say from the start, that adventurous though Dooney was, our conduct never strayed beyond behaviour that would command any more than five Hail Marys and three Our Fathers penance in the confessional box. When we first met, we were a perfect match. She possessed a boldness that was an ideal partner for my youthful curiosity, and a marriage of minds was in the making.

To this 15 year old boy at the time, who had spent the better part of the previous three years in hospital while being unable to walk, Dooney was a breath of fresh air I badly needed. The very first time she smiled in my direction and said, 'Hello', my heart was hopelessly lost. Dooney Quinn was a young woman from the town of my birth in Ireland who was probably my very first love. She was, I recall, a few years older than me and far wiser in the ways of innocent devilment than I could ever be. As a young boy of 15 years, during one holiday back at my grandparents' house, she agreed to walk with me up Curraghmore and show me the Irish countryside.

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, the kind of day that makes one feel great to be alive, and better still to be a person of the opposite sex. Dooney and I approached the river up Curraghmore and as we neared, we could sense the ripples of expectation and sheer abandonment as the freshness of its waters beckoned us into more adventurous mood.

"Do you fancy a swim, Billy Forde?" Dooney asked.
"I do, but I've got no swimming shorts with me, Dooney" I replied.
"What's those?" she asked coyly, adding, "And who needs swimming costume up Curraghmore when the sun is out?" 

Dooney was the first person in my life to introduce me to the pleasures of skinny dipping, which given the enlarged girth I possess today, would no longer be physically possible. The nearest I ever came to this experience thereafter was the sharing of a bath tub or jacuzzi with a beautiful back scrubber, but these experiences was no match for swimming naked in the cool waters of Curraghmore with Dooney Quinn during that hot summer day of 1958, in my 15th year of manhood.

About four or five months ago, I could hardly believe it when a young relative of Dooney messaged me on Facebook. After a number of messages back and forth between us, it was confirmed that the Dooney mentioned was indeed the Dooney of my youth who took me skinny dipping up Curraghmore. Isn't strange how life comes back to bite you on the bum when you least expect it?" William Forde: April 16th, 2016.
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April 14th, 2016.

14/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"Ironically, staying in comfortable waters often creates an illusion of safety and it is only once we step outside our comfort zone that we are able to see both self and surroundings as they truly are. When one feels lost and bereft of purpose and meaning in one's life, discovery can only be made by swimming far out beyond shallow waters, plunging deep into self and searching patiently until the pearl beyond price is found.

If there is one thing that I know with all the certainty of my life today and to come, it is that the finding of self may be either hindered or helped by another, but it will never be found in another!

Few of us welcome change in our routine and lives, yet change is often the one thing which is most needed to move on. By delving deeper into the unknown waters of life, we delve deeper into self.

I recall in my teenage years that the aspiration which many men would have gladly settled for was to attain the status and working position of foreman. I began my working life as a textile labourer and then changed to the profession of singer, followed by hotel receptionist. I became a textile foreman at 22 years of age, under-manager at 25 and a mill manager at 27 years old. This was followed by becoming a textile labourer once more while I studied at night school. I concluded by 25 years as a Probation Officer until I retired and have for the past 25 years been an author.  

There comes a time in all our lives when it is right to stay put and right to move on, and recognising such times and acting on them will lead us to finding our real self.


Though my career has been varied and as chequered as most, my blessing is that I have loved every job I have ever had and I have benefited from every job move I ever made. I know that were I to spend my life all over again, though all my past work has profited me and others, I would not repeat my career, but would try fresh occupations and sample new experiences. High on my list of career choices would be those of carpenter, news reporter, radio presenter, doctor, barrister, priest, forester and travelling map maker (
cartographer).

I would love to be able to travel the country, looking for places where the residents live happy and healthy lives, forever carrying with them buckets of hope. I would love to find places where all children, widows, war veterans, infirm, handicapped and the old person is ranked before the abled bodied in the tables of reckoning and the lists of the privileged. Once such places had been discovered by me, I could reveal its location to the rest of the country in my 'map of happiness' and then change my occupation to that of train driver, in order to take you all there!” William Forde: 
April 14th, 2016.
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April 13th, 2016.

13/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"To achieve a skill or academic standard beyond the normal level of attainment, the student needs earnest diligence and appropriate study. To become very accomplished at one's art, nothing less than practise, practise and more practise is required. You cannot however, become a genius; if one is, one is simply born one! But you can become a good person with a level of sensitivity that touches everyone and is in tune with the condition of another; we all can! 

Given what I know today, I now believe that is of far greater worth to recognise the pleasures and pain of the human heart than to understand the intricacy of its workings. I believe we serve humanity better if we can sense the heartache of another than learn how to transplant a heart on the operating theatre of modern surgery. I believe that it is far better in character building to learn to shake hands with Nature and the community that daily surrounds us than to have the ability to locate and recite perfectly all of those countries that fill the globe's earthly surface. I believe that it is far more rewarding to walk in the shoes of a beggar than to spend hundreds of pounds in a retail store upon surplus clothes of fashion that suit not the gravity of the occasion. I believe real life lives next door in the dwelling of our neighbour and on the street outside our front doors, rather than in passages of the bible or within the pages of the entire works of Shakespeare or some philosophical book. Far better to be disposed to helping others than helping oneself advance up the greasy pole of economic success or academic excellence. 

This is neither to disregard nor disparage knowledge or to minimise the importance of academic achievement, or seek to denigrate avenues of advancement in one's life. Instead, I advocate that awareness of another's thoughts, feelings and state of their prevailing condition is far more knowledgeable and worthwhile a thing to hold than all the letters of academic distinction ever amassed, every word contained within all the books of the world's library or even the brilliance to be found in the brightest star in the sky above." William Forde: April 13th, 2016. 
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December 31st, 1969

12/4/2016

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April 12th, 2016.

12/4/2016

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Thought for today:
'We all want to fall in love because that experience makes us feel completely alive and puts us in a place where every sense is heightened and every emotion magnified. Our everyday reality is shattered by an intensity of pleasant emotions and we find ourselves flying into the heavens at the sound of their voice and a touch of their hand. The ecstasy may only last a moment or a month, but that doesn't diminish its value, because we are left with memories that we treasure for the rest of our lives.

If we are wise, we will cherish all happy moments as they make a fine cushion in old age. Two things about love stir my senses in opposite direction. I experience immense joy whenever I hear of lifelong marriages and see the celebrations in motion for a couple's golden wedding anniversary.

However, I feel unimaginable hurt whenever I learn of the bereavement of one person who died but days after the death of their loved one, to whom they'd been happily married for half a century. Such loss I fear, often weighs down too heavily on the partner left to shoulder the grief, that it frequently results in a broken heart that wants no mending. And though the anguished body of the remaining partner could still endure the growing failure of their faculties, their mind, heart and soul gives up the battle to go on alone. They find life unbearable to function a moment longer with the burden of loving memories now spent and the unbearable loss of their soul mate.


I rejoice most when I see love descend upon a courting couple in old age and sense its gentleness in both expression and execution. To see a couple of old people who found each other first in friendship and later discovered the love they share and decide to marry in old age, gives hope to all who still wait. I rejoice at their happiness, but more than that, I rejoice at the hope for the future they carry right up until the brink of death itself. They demonstrate above all else that love is nought but friendship set on fire and kindled by genuine concern and an honest meeting of minds.

It is not uncommon for elderly newly-weds to take on a new extension of life. They learn that though old age does not protect one from falling in love again late in the day, that love can protect one from the ravaged uncertainty of old age. There is often a care extended to older love that isn't found in youthful courtship and which symbolises the fragility of feelings often disregarded when one leaves childhood years behind. Such care embraces the loving sentiment expressed by the poet W.B. Yeats when he wrote, 'I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams.' It is as though wisdom has led them to know that if a thing loves, it is infinite and the more wholesome a thing, hence greater the hurt when trampled and broken!

Love at first sight is hard to find, yet easier to understand, but it's only when two old people who have been looking at each other for years discover it in each other, that it becomes a miracle to behold. Their love has grown eternal; it is a love to which no old flame can ever hold a candle. You may take away the feeling, the passion and the romance in all aging relationships, and still find a level of care that only springs from growing love.

I suspect that those who love deeply never grow old. They may die of old age, but when they die, they die young at heart. The true measure of their never-ending love is that they love without measure." William Forde: April 12th, 2016.



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April 11th, 2016.

11/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"There is no mistaking happiness when the heart is filled with love, for that is the time when the face is resplendent in fulfilment. That is the moment when one is happy with what they have and like the child, are excited about what they want and what is yet to come.

The wisest among us have known for centuries that doing what you like carries with it a freedom to rejoice and liking what you do brings happiness. If our purpose in life is to have few regrets, it makes good sense to be happy as often as possible, for when we smile we forget the chains of life which trauma and every day problems tend to shackle us with.



Happiness, once caught is infectious. I first caught the virus of happiness when I developed the confidence to laugh at life and myself. Fifty years teaching Relaxation Training taught me that we use less energy to smile than to frown, so we may as well laugh at life instead of pull a face when choice is offered. I have always been lucky to have a job that was highly satisfying and soon discovered that once you do something you love, it comes more naturally and you find that you never have to work at it again. I found that I used less energy being happy instead of sad and also learned that happiness, like love, wasn't particularly a goal I had to pursue in order to find it: it was all around me, just waiting to be picked up. I learned that happiness was the immediate product of a genuine smile and an open heart. I remember my mother telling me as a child, 'Billy, only the fool seek happiness in the distance when it is here for the taking.' 

Until more recent years when global weather patterns have become more extreme and widespread, we were blessed in this country with the splendid bounty of our four seasons, all which I love and each one special for their different experiences and shades of happiness which comes with it. I long wondered why some people liked all four seasons of the year whilst others liked some yet disliked others. I have now come to strongly suspect that all seasons are beautiful for the person who carries happiness within and that just as much glee awaits those who are prepared to dance in the rain as well as relax in the sun. In short, if you want to be happy you need not be a fair weather person. If you want to be happy, then be so!

I have always been blessed with never once having experiencing boredom or depression and though I have always enjoyed life to the full, I have tended to just get on with it and try not to measure the amount of happiness it has bestowed on me. I am now 73 years old and despite having a terminal illness, I continue to look forward to tomorrow every bit as much as I ever have. As the French novelist Colette, whose best known work is probably the novella 'Gigi' once said, 'What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realized it sooner.' "William Forde: April 11th, 2016.


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April 10th, 2016.

10/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"Life's journey is a long wide road upon which you can find ample reward, providing you are prepared to travel it without being narrow minded in outlook, problematic in attitude or mean spirited in nature.

Life is a journey through past, present and future, not a destination. It is best travelled with an open mind that does not shut off the possibility of arriving at journey's end a better person than one was when setting off. It is a journey that is best measured in the number of friends made as opposed to miles travelled,  accompanied by the amount of love expressed and received along the way. 

On our journey through life we will explore, dream and discover and if fortunate in the extreme, we will find our inner self. Start your lifelong romance with loving yourself, for that is the best route to loving others. There will be some journeys that we must travel alone, but if we remain friends with self and God we shall be forever insured against isolation. We will never lose ourselves to hopelessness and depression or stray far from the path of goodness, so long as we use the resources that our family and faith have provided us with. All journeys of purpose start from heart and home and they lead us back home at the end of our day.

Be concerned more with your character than your reputation and make your life mean something to others. Life is much more than kicking ass, getting rich, owning your own house, achieving status and enjoying a comfortable lifestyle. Too many people waste their lives spending money they haven't earned, to buy things they don't want, to impress people they don't even like! They will never learn to swim against the tide if they dare not risk swimming alone.  The first big wave of contention to come along will drown them in the shallowness of their earthly ambition.

When we travel with open eyes, mind and heart, we discover that every prejudiced person that ever lived is wrong about other countries they never travelled. So embrace all manner of life as you travel your road; hold firm to your roots, be true to yourself and learn to love all you love with a passion that knows no bounds. Do all this and your final journey will be filled with happy memories of your past life. Even in death, your memory shall live on in the minds of your children and loved ones who will speak often with pride about the path through life you took." William Forde: April 10th, 2016.

https://youtu.be/YbDt4mIBQHc



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April 9th, 2016.

9/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"There is nothing more certain to make big boys cry than the imminent loss of a loving pet. Indeed, unless one can truly say they have loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened and the depth of one's heart forever untouched.

Throughout most of my life I have always had an animal to protect and love. It is a fearful thing to love what death can touch and when they die, the loss of a pet can create as great a gap in one's life as that of the closest friend. Until such occasion, love knows not its own depth of loss until the hour of separation arrives.

The film star, Jack Lemon, whom I once met in Canada during 1963 in the hotel where I then worked, reminded me that death ends a life and not a relationship. I know in my heart such to be true and when I think upon past creatures whom I loved and lost, I may cry because it's over; but I will also smile and rejoice because it happened. My pets, past and present, remain a part of me; when they hurt, I hurt and when they die, so will part of me. Such cost is the only price a loving pet deserves." William Forde: April 9th, 2016.

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April 8th, 2016.

8/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"Seeing this wonderful photograph of a mare and its foal on face book recently, brought back memories of a very special horse and person whom I was once privileged to meet. 


Many years ago in the mid 90's, a school teacher from Dalton, Huddersfield, West Yorkshire had a farmer friend in Mirfield whose Quarterhorse gave birth to twin foals. It is both a rarity and a danger for a mare to give birth to twins, and one of the foals was born dead and the second, small and weak. The mare was unable to feed her surviving foal and it looked like the colt would die.


As the owner had a farm to maintain unassisted, she couldn't possibly feed the newborn colt hourly from a bottle as well as perform her other tasks. Her school teacher friend came to her rescue and during the entire six-week term of the summer school holidays, her teacher friend lived with the colt in the stables day and night and fed it hourly from a bottle.


The upshot was that the colt survived for a number of years despite having to undergo many operations. The owner and her schoolteacher friend who'd struggled to save the colt's life refused to follow the vet's advice and before it eventually had to be put to sleep, over £20,000 of their money was spent attempting to give the horse a more normal existence. Its name was 'Midnight Fighter.' 


When I first came across this story it was around Christmas time and the story of the birth and love in a stable struck a seasonal cord within me. I was so moved by the love and dedication of the Dalton school teacher that I wrote a children's book called 'Midnight Fighter' in memory of the love that can exist between a human and a creature in want of sustenance. 


'Midnight Fighter' was then published to raise money for children and young persons with cerebral palsy and the story was professionally recorded, accompanied by musical backing for the purposes of radio transmission to schools. The book is available in e-book format entitled, 'Fighter' from www.smashwords.com or in hard copy from www.amazon and www.lulu.com with all profits going to charity. The lately deceased magician, Paul Daniels also recorded the story for charitable purposes. It is suitable for the 5-9 year old reader.

​The story can also be freely heard in the audio section of my website by following the link below when it was professionally recorded for radio transmission, accompanied by background music." William Forde: April 8th, 2016. 

http://www.fordefables.co.uk/midnight-fighter.html

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April 7th, 2016.

8/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"We best make friends at times when we most need them. No friendship is ever an accident or comes by design; it is just perfect timing between two souls who were meant to meet. True friendship is never defined by the number of things we discuss between us, but all those things that no longer need be mentioned. I need only friends who are friends to themselves, for if a creature cannot be true to themselves, they cannot be true to me. So change not if I change and nod not when I do, for my shadow does that much better. Instead be true to self as thou art to me and we shall rub along nicely. " William Forde: April 7th, 2016.

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April 8th, 2017.

8/4/2016

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Thought for today:
"There is a betwixing of thought and understanding between the old and young which middle years can never know nor age gap close. Just as age brings with it a wisdom of the years, youth carries an innocence of intent. The old person knows that when a young boy politely receives their offering, it has less to do with manners and good breeding and more to do with treat and appetite.

There is a capacity and need in the elderly to give to youth. Offer them the opportunity and they will share whatever culinary delights they have on offer. Give them your time however, and your daily consideration of checking out that they are okay and don't require any shopping doing or errands running and they will remain your most loyal of friends and most secretive confident. Give them your young ear however, and the tales are can tell will explain all there is to know about how to enjoy one's youth and get one up on nosy adults!" William Forde: April 8th, 2017.
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