Blog Archives - FordeFables

May 30th, 2004.

30/5/2014

Thought for today:
" Have you ever wondered what it is that children seem to love about messing about in mud and what possible effect it could have on their future lives? Once you have rolled around in it, you never seem able to cleanse yourself from it, whether it be play, wrestling, music festivals or simply to enhance one's beautiful skin!" William Forde: May 30th 2014.

May 29th, 2014.

29/5/2014

Thought for today:

"Isn't it strange that a friendship forged at the age of five in Primary school can and often does result in a lifelong friendship which stands the test of time.

Three Wigan girls attended the same school. As they grew up, this happy trio often pretended to act out diiferent parts in the Enid Blyton's 'The Secret Seven' and 'The Famous Five' adventure books and were as close as friends could be throughout the whole of their school years.

As teenagers, they dressed alike and shared all manner of things that drew them closer to each other. Upon starting work, they all obtained jobs at the same textile mill in Wigan. They soon established a reputation for working hard Monday morning until Friday afternoon and then playing hard over their weekend break when they would drink, dance and make merry.

Often during their late teens they would go out together at night and finish up sharing the same bed. The mother of each never knew if they'd find their daughter in bed alone when they went to wake her. When they pulled her sheets back, they'd often find her two close friends beneath the blanket. Indeed, they even swapped over their casual boyfriends occassionally as well as also swapping their occasional boyfriends causually. All went well until, one of the trio broke the trust of the other two by secretly trying out the boyfriend of one on the side.

The trio were to discover however, that when teenage hormones run wild and love comes in through the window and catches one by surprise, long-term commitment to friends can beat a hasty retreat out the back door! This is particularly true when that vital trust bond has been tested to the limit and has been broken or found wanting in an act of betrayal. The Brutus of the triumvirate married her man and they emigrated soon after to the shores of Canada. The other two girls, who remained the best of friends, grew ever closer in their role as sisters-in-law, when they courted and married twin brothers from Wigan who managed a thriving dairy concern.These two marriages lasted for around sixteen years until one had a brief fling with her husband's brother. Both marriages broke up along with the two women's friendship and all parties went their own separate ways.

For the next twenty years, the trio remained dissolved and no contact was had among any of the trumvirate of old. The woman who emigrated to Canada with her husband was never really happy with the man she'd stolen and wed. He turned out to have an aggressive character, was too jealous and controlling, drank too much and was verbally and emotionally abusive. She ended her marriage around the same year as her the marriages of her two former friends ended.

After the marriages of all three females had sadly broken up, they each found themselves getting gradually more isolated from the world at large. In time they'd become increasingly lonely and were wholly bereft of life purpose. For a long while they couldn't place their trust in attempting to form new relationships with either man or woman, having been badly let down by both sexes in the past, so they kept all social contacts to a minimum.

Meanwhile life went on and the world continued to turn on its axis as it ushered in the 80s, 90s and eventually the New Millennium. In time, each woman started to dip their toe in the river of life once more. They even began to question some of the social conventions and restrictions which they'd grown up with, such as never approaching people without first being invited to. They then bought themselves a laptop and after dragging themselves into the 21st century, their lives slowly started to change.

It wasn't long before the silver surfers quickly found social network sites like Facebook. Next they rapidly discovered that they weren't alone in their current position, present feelings, past experiences and future hopes. Before long they slowly began to build up their range of daily contacts as well as their confidence levels.

During 2010, one of the trio received a surprised friendship request on Facebook from the trio member who'd betrayed her friend by stealing her man and emigrated with him to Canada after marrying him. The two former friends maintained their Facebook contact and the relationship went so well that when the friend in Canada decided to return to live in Wigan the following year, they met up. It was as though the thirty three years which had passed between them since they'd last met had been but yesterday. Twelve months later at the start of 2012, they decided to rent a house in Wigan and started to live together.

Two years later, the last member of the trio (the woman who was initially betrayed by her friend and then went on to become the betrayer of her other friend and sister-in-law) came back into their lives. This again happened through one Facebook connection leading to another and then another before all three women were once more connected. Within six months of ongoing contact between the three women, they had each forgiven each other for any past transgressions and essentially discovered that whereas forgiveness enables one to move on with their life, that reget and recriminations doesn't!

All three women were finally reunited in the flesh when on March 21st, 2014 they met up in a cafe in Wigan centre. As all three women came face to face with their former betrayer and betrayed, ten seconds of deadly silence existed in the stillness of uncertain expectation. Then without further thought, all three women found themselves in a loving embrace and felt their triumvirate reborn; never to be broken again.

Two months later (two weeks ago today in fact) witnessed the strength of the women's friendship bond when all three women decided to live out their remaining lives in the same house in Wigan. They even refused to have separate bedrooms and all sleep in the same giant-sized bed. Each night before retiring for the day, their very last act before going to sleep is to take it in turn to re-read out loud from one of their treasured, 'The Famous Five' books.

Before I end my thought for today, I must point out that this story is completely fabricated and was constructed over this morning's porridge for breakfast. If you were in the process of believing it to be factual, let me know as I think I will develop it into a longer and more fulsome story in my 'Tales from Portlaw' books; all of which can be freely accessed from my website." William Forde: May 29th, 2014.
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/tales-from-portlaw.html

May 28th, 2014.

28/5/2014

Thought for today:
"We all tend to more often express the over-indulgences in ourselves through the use of our mouths.

Ironically, the chain smoker will puff their poisonous fumes in their bid to relax, even though all available evidence shows that smoking actually increases tension considerably. Smoking shortens life, stifles breathing capacity, reduces oxygen in the lungs and spreads its foul stench from mouth to the environment and everyone and everything it touches. Finally it kills off romance and in time unfortunately, the smoker and their loved ones too! Whatever anyone tells you, take it from an ex-smoker who stopped ten years ago and a tobacco addict who smoked for fifty years, for children to grow up seeing a parent they love happily smoke, that child will also smoke in adulthood. My dear mother was herself a chain smoker. In fact it is the psychological equivalent of a parent pushing drugs to their offspring!

The 'foodie consumer' is a person who has an avid interest in the latest food fads. Some are food snobs who catalogue their elite epicurean moments in vivid detail via their cuisine face-book images of what they've just eaten or cooked or in their blogs and general recipes which they readily hand out. Such folk tend to spend their hedonistic lives seeking their sensual pleasure in voluptuous and shapely opulance. They either weigh six stones or sixteen and wear dresses either two sizes larger or smaller than required. One day they will diet relentlessly; the next binge remorsely. From teenage years until death they will be either on a diet or just having broken one yet again. They will concern themselves so much with the calorific content of their food that all nourishment will be digested and expelled without consumate satisfaction. They possess a masochistic streak that lead them to believe that what tastes nasty does one good. Consequently, to 'enjoy' what they eat will make them feel 'guilty' and to feel guilty will make them eat more and more. Either way, like the oyster lover, their gastronomic delights will move from shell to stomach without touch or digestion and they will always feel too full or too empty and never 'just right' with themselves.

Then there is the constant complainer for whom the sun shines too hot and the rain falls too wet and the sand sticks between the toes. These are the mini moaners whom maximise life's hardships and never speak with widen jaw that breaks into smile. Whether complainer, moaner or groaner, their mouth is in a permanent state of aggressive attack and constantly begs to bite.

There is also the liar whose mouth mangles and machinates truth at every opportunity. Liars begin by imposing untruths upon others, but always end by deceiving themselves. They fail to see that there is a beauty in truth, even when the fact is painful. The most common sort of lie is the one uttered to one's self. This untruth is solidly grounded in an unwillingness to accept the blatently obvious to the impartial observer. However, at the end of the day, liars find it impossible to maintain their lifelong pretence. Death bed confessions are not unusual as Matthew Arnold reminded us, 'Truth sits upon the lips of dying men'

Then there is the monkey and the cat who are capable of finding fulfilment and fun in nothing more than a bit of greenery and a bit of blue. When it comes to the simplicity of life, there's no pulling the wool over their eyes because they have learned to live for the moment and to make best use of what they have." William Forde: May 28th, 2014.

May 27th, 2014.

28/5/2014

Thought for today:
'God's Galaxy' Copyright William Forde

"Oh earthly wonder of sheer delight, reveal to me the world beyond my wildest imagination. Show me the stars that shine into black oblivion that takes one back to time and place where time and place did not exist and all galactic movement had never been to be forgotten.

Remind me of earth's construction in the stellar system of the Creator's design; the large-scale aggregate of stars, gas and dust that nourish God's galaxy and milky way that suckled and breathed life to all mankind.'

I recently came across this short poem I wrote some years ago and it got me thinking about all the author's of the Old and New Testament and how I might have written a condensed version of all the books. For instance, had I been charged to write the Book Of Genesis, this would have been my humble version of God's creation.

'On day one He created the world and the heavens and the stars. On day two He created the earth on which to place his most loved of treasures in His universe. On day three He created earth's sky and filled it with birds of the air. On day four He created earth's sea and filled it with all manner of fish and marine life. On day five He created earth's land, mountains, forests and deserts and filled them with beast and animals and provided all living form with enough food to eat and ground to roam.

On day six He created his most beautiful creation of all when He made you and placed you on the earth to live in peace with your neighbour. On the seventh day, God rested and when He looked upon his creation he was pleased with what he'd made.

The Lord God made the world on high and set it spinning on an axis of love. Only love makes the world go around and it is only through the love expressed by one of God's creatures to another that keeps it spinning in perpetual motion. You are the living embodiment of God's love.....you. Without you there would be no need for purpose, earth or God!'" William Forde: May 27th, 2014.

May 26th, 2014.

27/5/2014

Thought for today:
"However long our parents have been deceased, we still end up missing their daily presence in our lives.

It's not as though we were even in each other's pockets after I married and left home. Naturally, we visited them at least once weekly; more often on a Sunday after our children had been born and our weekend 'pop-in' to see granny and granddad was obligatory in our busy family schedule.

Often during weekly visits to see my parents, my dad (being a man of few words and extremely modest in nature), always let mum do all the talking while he politely listened. While mum nattered on, dad always ensured that both his young grandsons were kept supplied with a constant stock of buttered biscuits; an old, Irish, Catholic custom of which his English, Protestent daughter-in-law strongly disapproved, especially if the biscuits were Rich-Tea ones which dad would liberally butter and add a sugar coating to before giving to James and Adam.

Mum died at the early age of 64 years in 1986 and though dad tried to get on with his life, it was sad to see his strong and independent traits slowly leave him as he started to show signs of missing mum's daily presence in the house. One would never have dreamt that though they loved each other all their married life, they rowed daily during the latter part of it!

After mum died, I always tried to pop in daily; usually in the evening for ten minutes on my way home from work. Dad died in 1991, aged 75 years and he did say to me a few years prior that he wished they could have both gone together as it was no fun being the last one to go.

It was only after they had both died and left the scene that I truly missed them more than I could ever have imagined. Almost twenty five years after their deaths (which is incidently more time than I lived at home prior to getting married), I still find it virtually impossible to pass the flat where they spent their final years together without it bringing a lump to my throat.

Frequently, and no doubt because my experiences with each of them was always positive, I have prided myself on being able to emotionally 'let them go.' And yet, they remain constantly in my thoughts; much more so of later years as my advancement in age brings back memories of them far more often than say ten or twenty years ago. Perhaps this is a defence mechanism that I subsequently employed which enabled me to compensate their emotional loss with my mental recollection of them. Emotionally I have 'let go,' but by holding on firmly to their memory, perhaps I will never truly and completely 'let go' until I let go of life itself and be reunited with them and all my loved ones.

Little did I realise that my mother's first instructions to me when she and dad walked me out in the world at the age of three years, 'Billly, stay close to us now and never stray too far from God' would still be followed by their 71 year old son today. Don't worry mum and dad, I always will. After all, however big the child grows, the man is never more than a shadow of their past and a reflection of their mother and father." William Forde: May 26th, 2014.

May 25th, 2014.

25/5/2014

Thought for today:
"For all mortals who wish to enter heaven, they must first die. I seem to have short circuited God's route, for when my mother gave birth to me I was born in heaven, for she blessed me soon after my entry into earthly life with the love of six brothers and sisters to grow up with, Then, towards the later season of my life or to be precise, the morning that I woke up after having married Sheila, I found myself in heaven once more and with an angel by my side.

The essense of perfect female form is to be found in the moves she masters, in every stroke she makes and in every colour she chooses in her pallette of life's portrait. She is in short, an artist of her craft and in every regard an angel to the Gods and muse to every poetic flow of her man's endeavours. Life is too short to live it inside the box. It is best lived in balance of relaxation, exercise and recreation. If you don't believe me ask Sheila. I think that she's found the secret to eternal youth, long health and heavenly form through her love of me, yoga and all mankind." William Forde: May 25th, 2014.

May 24th, 2014

25/5/2014

Thought for today:
"We are best protected when we are loved without qualification or expectation. For thousands of years, ever since mankind started to domesticate some animals on the planet and breed them to specification, owner and pet has grown more alike in looks and ways.

One of the best ways of teaching our young how to cope with responsibility is to enable them to grow from being an infant and through their childhood into young adulthood alongside a pet of their own. Developing a close relationship with a pet will enable the child to better develop relationships with others during their years of socialisation besides ensuring that they always know unqualified love in both human and creature whenever they meet it. They will also be guaranteed (especially if they have no brother or sister to mix with), never to be alone, however lonely they may feel. They can even talk to their pet during troubled times, tell them their problems and know that they will be listened to attentively and have their mood understood and respected. Such companionship is an asset worthy of its weight in gold to a worried soul.

The greatest lesson which the young person will learn through such a loving relationship with their pet is the sad truth that both man and beast is born to someday die and when one's time arrives for a creature to leave this earthly life, it brings with it a grievious depth of pain for the human survivor. However sad such an experience proves to be for the young person, through such sadness the person will grow stronger and be more prepared to cope with the human loss of a parent or loved one whenever such bereavement occurs in later life.

However, during the infancy of themself and pet, the loving child will do anything for their furry companion. Consider for one moment what they would do upon finding both pet and dad having fallen into the quicksand and they could only throw the safety rope to one of them as both struggled to keep their heads up high before going under shouting out, 'Help!'

Ah..... when all the water has drained from the cooking pot, what's left is always less than what you started with and that all life is about from cradle to grave; choices, choices, choices! What to save and what to let go?" William Forde: May 24th, 2014

May 23rd, 2014.

23/5/2014

Thought for today:
"There has been much written and recorded over the past decade about the importance of 'giving and receiving hugs' and in particular, how their touch can determine not only one's overall character, but also one's outcome in life's system of benefits!

No....I'm not talking about the DHSS and the other handouts many folk seek, but instead 'Nature's handouts,' along with the powerful and positive energy transmitted by a smily face. It is so true that when you smile, the world smiles with you.

It is also true that when you hug, you encompass all that is finest in mankind's qualities and nature's abundant richness. A hug isn't just about placing ones arms around an object, person or creature. That is but the mechanical gesture of one's upper limbs. No....a hug is much, much more!

When we hug, we embrace life and all that lives within the thing we hug. When we hug, we transmit the very love we feel and the good intent that resides within us to the thing we embrace. The beauty of depositing love in another thing outside oneself produces the great dividend one receives in return. We always get back more than we give out and therefore love's depositors can never lose out on their initial investment.

I have known many people in my life who gained tremendous pleasure and sense of belonging simply by having been hugged. Often during the most poignant moments of one's life when our words fail us and we cannot frame all we want to say, giving a hug possesses the power 'to say it all' with a poignancy that no wordsmith could ever craft.

In my life, I have known the lifelong sadness felt by people whose parents never once said 'I love you' and never once gave them 'a hug.' Whatever start they may have thought they'd provided their offspring with, nothing material could ever compensate for the lifelong harm which the absence of their loving affirmation had produced. Such sad souls grew up experiencing great difficulty in both forming and sustaining relationships throughout their lives. Their greastest loss of all though, was their incapacity to express love; their emotional inability to love themself or others and in many instances, their unwillingness to receive love!

For over two years during the late 1980s, I provided Relaxation Training classes to women prisoners inside HMP Newhall, Wakefield. Because of absence of space at the time, these sessions had to be held in the chapel part of the institution. For some, this was the very first time that some of the women had ever set foot inside any sanctified walls. The women I worked with were the women who were the most despised by society, and even by their fellow inmates. Some were women who'd harmed, maimed or killed their children, some had been addicted to drugs and apart from prostituting themselves to feed their addiction they had sold on drugs to others, including school children. I must have worked with well over a hundred women during these two years, but rarely did I come across one who was capable of loving themselves or who felt that their parents had loved them as children. Many had been sexually abused by a family member or had spent a lifetime moving in and out of one abusive relationship with a man and into another in between serving prison sentences. Most had parented illegitimate children who were either in the Care of foster parents or the Social Services Department. A few had even been abandonded at birth. Those who returned to live with their children often found themselves moving between one women's safe house refuge centre and another in order to escape a violent partner and his wrath. A common experience shared by all these women was that they'd never been hugged as a child and told that they were loved. Indeed the only embraces they received as adults were as a prelude to sexual encounters. Our weekly sessions always ended by me asking all the women to give each other a hug; however, not all felt able to do this seemingly most natural of acts.

Just to see a person hug their pet cat or dog or to gently wrap their arms around the neck of their horse is a joy to behold. The act possesses a benefit that cannot be measured and reflects the essense of 'togetherness.' Indeed, for such hugs to be even bettered requires them to be carried out on the most important people in one's life.

Lovers of fine specimens also like to hug, and here I am thinking of people who love to hug trees. I have known a few tree huggers in my time and the older I get, the more I'm inclined to believe that trees too respond to loving hugs. If you don't believe me, the next time you get out and have chance to hug a tree do so. But beware, I don't mean just fling your arms around it like a great galumphing bear, but rather put some feeling into the embrace. Don't just wrap yourself around it with the brute force of an abusive lover.

The process for tree hugging is as follows for it to produce the maximum benefit for both hugger and tree. First place your arms gently around the tree trunk and as you do so, adopt an easy breathing pattern and close your eyes. With eyes closed, allow your mind to construct the following picture. Mentally imagine the transfer of love that is taking place from you to tree. Feel the warmth leave your body and transfer itself to the tree trunk. Hug the tree for a full minute with this loving transfer in mind and then take a long, deep breath before opening your eyes and standing back to look at the benefit of your hug.

As you look at the object of your affection you will surely notice the transformation that has taken place and gently smile. In return, the tree will breath deeply and as it spreads its overhead branches in the summer breeze, you will see it smile back. It is as though when you willed your smiling love to touch the tree, the tree received it, laughed out loud and blew back a kiss from its bark." William Forde:May 23rd, 2014.

May 22nd, 2014.

22/5/2014

Thought for today:
"There is an old Chinese proverb that says the person who proclaims that it cannot be done, shouldn't interrupt the person who is doing it!

During the floods of November and December, 2012 when the Thames threatened to burst its banks, flood alerts were numerous across the South West of England. It wasn't too long before someone in Buckingham Palace realised that our Queen had never learned to swim as most of her childhood years had been taken up horse riding and shooting peasants ( sorry, I mean pheasants), on the Royal Estates.

'What shall we do? What shall we do?' went up the cry. 'What shall we do if the palace is flooded as our beloved Queen can't swim?'

It was left to the ingenuity of her youngest grandson, Prince Harry to save his grandmother as William and his new wife Kate were esconced in their own palatial home trying to make a little addition to their own family number.

'By George, I can't help out right now' replied William who'd been made a Duke of late and clearly outranked his younger brother. 'You'll have to see to grand ma..ma, Harry. I've got my own Queen to look after now and she fancies having an early night and being a ma..ma too!'

'Okay Wills, I'll do it, but only if you promise never to abdicate in my favour at a future date like Eddie the Eagle did when he flew the nest and dumped the crown to grand ma..ma's pa,' Prince Harry replied. 'There's just no way I'm cut out to be a King as I like my beer,cigs and women too much!'

'What do you intend to do, little brother?' the Duke of Cambridge asked Prince Harry.

'Have no fear, Wills. Little Harry will man the boat. You carry on doing whatever you were doing with Kate and I'll sort this lot out. I know a China Man who may be able to help out, but as for Grand Papa, he'll have to stay behind and take his chances. There's only room for two in this Chinese basket and I intend to be one of them!' Prince Harry replied. 'There's just no room for another basket case. Grand Pops can stay put and take his chances with the river rats!'

What's that you say, Maam? Who's not amused? Am I right in thinking that I've blown all chances of ever getting an MBE upgrade now?" William Forde: May 22nd, 2014.

May 21st, 2014.

21/5/2014

Thought for today:
"Happiness is bliss, especially when it flows in the stream of close affection that only long-term lovers enjoy.

Happiness is evident for all to see. It plainly shows itself without the need to affect its presence and requires no disguise. It can be heard in a hearty laugh, be carried within the meaning of a warm smile, transferred from one person to another through the modest touch of a gentle hand or sent straight to the heart of a loved one by no more than a tender look, kiss and sincere embrace.

An inherent difficult with young love is that it hasn't yet had the opportunity to mature and stand the test of time. Without experience of life's happy and tragic events shared within a partnership of more than forty years, none but the old in tooth and mind can know how to find love, immerse oneself in love, wrestle with love, momentarily lose love, find love again and bottle it because they truly understand what true love means..........all with the same partner!

Without such seasoned involvement, our experience of love, happiness and the meaning of wedlock can never marry with the wisdom of our parents. Alas, it is only by putting in both the love and the time can we ever hope to retire with the watch of contentment at the end of our lives. It may sound paradoxical, but to love one another 'til death do you part, in sickness and in health requires always being there for the other in both life and death, and happy to be so.

Unfortunately, there is no way this can possibly be achieved without putting time and the effort into the relationship. My grandparents who were married over fifty years always swore by truth and honesty being the foundation of their union with the willingness to share, listen, talk, touch and forgive representing the building blocks of the home they lived in." William Forde:May 21st, 2014.

May 20th, 2014.

20/5/2014

Thought for today:
"In many ways it's been a bit rougher yesterday and today as the first week in the chemotherapy monthly cycle can leave one feeling more tired and with occasional feelings of nausea, but the good news is that the side effects gradually lessen as the month progresses, enabling one to better adjust to and cope with the experience!

However, life advances much more easily when a proper perspective can be maintained. I have to admit that given many other medical conditions I've had to cope with since the age of 12 years, receiving this cancer treatment is far from being in the top half of my list of bad experiences. Indeed, it is so far very tolerable. Sometimes bad things are prone to happen to us and too much hurt visits far too often for one to grow frightened of. Yet, when all the water has been drained from the cooking pot and only the nourishment of the soul remains, eat heartily the food of life that is left and your health will be more readily restored.

Another upside to my treatment so far is that I haven't yet lost any hair, although it is early days and might be thinning to my fading eyesight without me noticing its obvious departure. And yet, even if I do, I shall need to remember that a bird without its feathers is still a bird, a man without his hair is still a man, but a creature with someone to love and who is much loved in return has all there is to have and hold and is envious of no other.

So step out proudly with extended breast for it's not yet Christmas and there is yet much to do and another summer to enjoy and strut our stuff. Do not worry unduly about what the future holds in store, for your fate was set before your birth and destiny will deliver its verdict when it's due. As mum would often remind me, 'What will be will be, but what you never want you'll never get, Billy.'

Let's face it folks, even the calandar knows all there is to know about the human condition; the Alpha and the Omega, the start and the end of the week's cycle of life; and upon each turn what the next day will bring for us. When the pages of Monday and Tuesday have been turned, even the calandar says, 'W T F !' in preparation of what might come." William Forde: May 20th, 2014.

May 19th, 2014.

19/5/2014

Thought for today:
"There is a beauty in the world where waters fall freely and blossom grows on mountain sides above the clouds; a world where sunrise beckons all earths colours in its painted skies and sunset settles down all countryside and bids the creatures of its grasses and hedgerows pleasant dreams.

And while night descends and cloaks the passage of our earthly dreams, Nature and nocturnal life arises to fill earth's still space. Through movement of night breeze, bats bounce through its dark corridor as a band of crickets dance in the ground grasses below to the beat of eardrum irritation as their neighbouring grasshoppers rattle in cheap delight. Owls hoot their wisdom both near and far, proclaiming, 't'wit-to-who' ever it may concern, you're never too old to learn.'

And then as dawn draws ever closer and the daylight hours loom large once more, rabbits scurry to their daytime bolt-holes and hyenas from the African plains howl out their deadly presence to near dead prey.

Then daytime beauty returns to the earth once more as the never-ending water wheel turns full circle in rotational drive as Nature's dawn chorus of early birds are gradually drown with a cacophony of earthly beasts in the form of man." William Forde: May 19th, 2014.

May 18th, 2014.

18/5/2014

Thought for today:
"Allowing oneself to 'get tangled up' or 'sucked in' to the business of others is a social occupation not to be pursued by those among us who are prone to depression and despair. Instead, learning how best to chill out and relax will make one a much better counsellor, comforter and supporter when the occasion demands it.

If we are wise, we will refrain from offering advice unless it is appreciated or invited. We should only lend a hand when it is used as a temporary form of assistance and not a long-term crutch for the socially crippled.

The best tonic I know for the maintenance of contentment with the folk around you and happiness with the life you live is facilitated best by being bothered what is going on in the world and the lives of friends and neighbours.

One sees much more easily when one is bothered to look first instead of act. One hears better when one is bothered to first listen instead of speak. One acts more appropriately when one is bothered to accept that sometimes the best thing to do is to do nothing at all except to 'be there'. Being bothered simply means that 'you care.'

If you can lighten up in your attitude and be more positive in your expectations, your darker moods will descend less often to blight your day and your presence will weigh more heavily in the lives of others. Walking in hope will soon encourage you to adopt the stride of confidence in all your dealings with your family, neighbours and friends. Learn to take the rush out of your busy days and peace will always remain a close neighbour in your area of activity.

My mother used to tell me, ' We should always make time to smell the roses as we pass by because we never know if we'll pass this way again, Billy.'

My dear friend, the author Stan Barstow who died a few years ago, used to tell me, 'Life is too damn short for it to be lived too seriously and in total civility. That's the best pleasure of getting older Bill; you can say what you feel and get away with it more often.'

With regard to my mum's and Stan's advice, I can now readily accept the merits of each the more I learn to live them out. I won't say that their coat of wisdom will be tailored to everyone's needs and be a suitable fit for all, but for myself, it will do nicely thank you." William Forde: May 18th, 2014.

May 17th, 2014.

18/5/2014

Thought for today:
This weekend the village of Haworth will again be presenting their 1940s weekend. If you have never been, it is a pleasure not to be missed. Although my cancer treatment will prevent me mixing with crowds this weekend, I am sending my good wife Sheila out with a few of her friends to join the fun. Say hello to her if you see her out and about.

Many years ago, I had occasion to find out about numerous women who'd lost their sweethearts and husbands during the First and Second World War years. I was particularly sadden to read the accounts of all those women who'd planned to marry their soldier sweethearts when the war was over, but whose death on the battle field made their wedding dress redundant. Many of these women never married and mourned their loss until the day they died. Whereas the grief and loss of war widows was recognised and sympathised with by all, this other group of women remained largely unsupported in their loss. Some who later discovered that they'd become pregnant after their sweetheart had gone off to war, planned to marry on his first weekend of leave. However, his untimely death meant that they'd been left unmarried and alone in motherhood to mourn in public shame. I was very fortunate to know one such woman called Henrietta who died 15 years ago at the age of 94 years. I penned the following poem called 'Arthur and Guinevere' in her memory and the memory of all women who lost their sweethearts during the war years:

'Arthur and Guinevere'

"The pleasure hills of time rolls down,
Haunting Guinevere with years gone by.
If only, she could remember still;
The walks, the talks, those promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of lovers' skies.

When shall we wed, oh Arthur dear?
When the fighting's done is time enough.
We'll have that cottage, children too;
The walks, and talks and promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of calm, blue skies.

How goes the battle, Arthur dear?
How long must I wait before you're home?
I miss you oh so much, my love;
The walks, the talks, those promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of hopeful skies.

I fear I won't be back, my dear.
The heaven is filled with death's dark cloak.
My spirit's crushed, the legs are gone.
No more walks, talks, and promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of moving skies.

Take heart, take love, take all I've got,
But please, bring thyself back home, my love.
Don't rob me of my treasured dreams;
The walks, the talks, those promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of married skies.

Your Arthur passed away last week.
In battle fierce he gave up his life.
He fought for freedom, country, home;
And walks, the talks, and promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of English skies.

I'll ne'er forget you, oh my love.
I'll save the gown until next we meet.
I'll savour all my dreams so sweet;
Of walks, and talks and promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of restful skies.

The flowers have withered on thy grave
And I've lost all image of thy face.
My spirit's crushed, the legs have gone;
No more walks, talks and promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of moving skies.

Together once more, side by side,
Arthur and Guinevere share last space,
As final words of love are passed;
Of walks, and talks, and promised kisses
Beneath the dawn of rainbow skies."

Copyright William Forde: May 17th, 2014

May 16th, 2014.

17/5/2014

Thought for today:
"There have always been people who never seem to allow the antics and depression of others get them down. Whatever life decides to hit them with, they'll pick themselves up and learn to walk out again with head held high, in the positive belief that there is much yet to see in this beautiful world of ours. Their inner strength and fortitude will enable them to look beyond the obvious and to see the wider picture. I was very fortunate to be able to spend the day with a number of them yesterday.

Then there are the others. These are the folk who refuse to see the answer to their problems when it's staring them in the face. In a world of recession and mounting debt, anyone with a bird brain should know that borrowing to repay will make matters worse not better or that living now and paying later only attracts the interest of fools. If they stop burying their head in the sand, they might see things clearer for what they are instead of for what they'd like them to be! They might also discover that the best things in life cost little or no money.

I spent the full day yesterday in hospital on a drug cancer drip. I must admit that the experience, which it is natural to fear in advance, went very well and half of the time was spent laughing and talking with other patients. Instead of being in a bed, we were all sat in the lounge as though we were enjoying the benefits of a hospital spa. I won't pretend that everyone present of the dozen or more folk I sat among was jolly, as a few were clearly not. However, given that most of us had a terminal condition, it was remarkable how normal and cheerful things could be when folk face up to their condition and start to conquer their worse fears about it. There was no burying of heads in the sand in that hospital lounge yesterday yet there was a considerable degree of respect for self and others evident.

I have always felt that we deceive ourselves the most when we sometimes proclaim, "I can forgive........but I'll never forget!" Whenever I have heard anyone proclaim such in the past, although the person expressing it genuinely believed it, I always held some doubt as to the totality of their forgiveness. I have never believed that one is able to forgive 'partially' and have always held the view that like pregnancy, 'you either are or you aren't pregnant and are never a bit pregnant.' Consequently, I very much suspect that forgiveness, if it is to truly exist at all, needs to be total and unconditional!

As I sat with my hospital drip yesterday and scoured my newspaper, I was very interested to read in the Daily Express that the University of St. Andrews recently undertook a study which was subsequently published in 'Psychological Science.' The study involved subjects trying to remember hypothetical situations with wrongs including infidelity, slander and theft. The findings were fascinating. The reseachers discovered that the act of forgiving a wrong actually makes it easier to forget the details of the initial transgression. However, volunteers never forgot a scenario they had not forgiven; even when they'd been told to banish it from their memories.

So it looks like the canny Scots have done it again in revealing what truly lies beneath the kilt (sorry...I mean beneath the sands of time). It just goes to show that there is some truth in old wives saying, 'Forgive and forget.' Have a good day."William Forde: May 16th, 2014.

May 15th, 2014.

16/5/2014

Thought for today:
"When nature calls, time and place waits for no man!

I'm not sure that I'd have done any different to Paula Radcliffe when she was 'caught short' whilst running the London Marathon in 2005 and had to make an emergency 'pit-stop' before getting back out on the track and winning the race. Such was not the occasion for watching ones 'ps and qs' it would seem.

Isn't it strange how the more gentler sex can make the most natural of bodily functions look such a strain in its execution, while an upright old tramp can effortlessly allow life to flow by with the utmost of dignity as he looks to the broad horizon for purpose and direction?" William Forde: May 15th, 2014.

May 14th, 2014

15/5/2014

Thought for today:
"Respect her like your mother. Protect her like a daughter. Love her like a wife. These are the thoughts of a good man who is lucky to have a good woman of equal measure.

For over forty years in the counselling game of listening, learning, giving guidance and offering advice I have experienced the full range of almost every feeling and emotion known to mankind. I have loved and hated some of the things I've heard done to and for people. I have both despaired and rejoiced at the heartache and happiness I have shared. While good and bad things are done to and by both men and women, I have invariably found my own sex to be wanting when the scales of justice are set up to weigh both rights and wrongs perpetrated by mankind.

I don't know why it should be so, but far more often in my experience I have heard of males treating females badly as opposed to the other way around. One might think that given that the sexes are broadly equal in number, so would be the injustices one sex perpetrates against the other, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I sometimes feel that with a few exceptions, there is a propensity in man to do more wrong than in a woman and I have seen too often how some men can only feel 'good' by making a woman feel 'bad.'

And yet there is an inherent strength in all women that no man can ever know. Who but a woman would carry around a burden for nine months of her life that she transforms into a treasure at its birth and grows to love more every time she looks at its innocent face? Whereas the mother is prepared to break the umbilical cord minutes after her child's birth, this close connection between the two will never be broken. Both she and her child will invariably form a closeness of bond that no father and child can ever experience in equal measure. It is no mere coincidence that girls eventually grow into their mothers and that men look for their mother's qualities when choosing a wife and lifelong partner.

There have been times when I have delighted in a woman's moments of pleasure and on other occasions I have been dismayed and disgusted in the pain they have been made to sometimes endure at the hands of men. Yet, for all my learning and breadth of experience, I know nothing compared to the true understanding of the anonymous person who coined the thought embraced in the image above about the way a woman deserves to be treated by any man who cares for her.

So many times in my life have I seen the strength of feeling and depth of emotion which can be forged from nothing more fundimental than the power of love, the arms of protection and the river of respect that runs so deeply for one's soul mate. It is a sight worthy of its wait to see in fullest flower; especially when east meets west, black joins with white and man unites with woman." William Forde: May 14th, 2014.

May 13th, 2014.

13/5/2014

Thought for today:
One of the people with whom I worked during my earlier years as a counsellor was a young woman in her late twenties who had behaved in angry and destructive acts ever since her childhood. After about six months of talking regularly with her she revealed that between the ages of 8-13 years, her father had sexually abused her after he'd returned home from the pub drunk.

For five years she put up with the abuse which included rape and was partially relieved when at the age of 13 years her father suddenly stopped. She later assumed that he had probably turned his attention to her younger sister. Soon after she ran away from home and never returned to live there, but felt overwhelmed with guilt for having abandoned her young sister and not telling someone. She knew that if she informed the police that her family would be split up and she also felt partly responsible for her father's foul acts.

When I met her, I advised her to confront her dad and tell him how he had ruined her childhood and had marred all relationships she'd ever tried to develop in her adult life with other men. I also advised her to consider reporting him to the police. I will never forget that she told me that she didn't feel entirely comfortable in the presence of any man and always found herself drawn to the bad ones. She then told me that her father had died a few years earlier so she couldn't tell him how she felt about the years he had abused her.

I advised her to tell him anyway and after ascertaining where he was buried, I persuaded her to visit the grave and release all her anger over it to the father who'd wronged her. This she did and though such action helped her, we lost touch soon after.

For reasons I am unaware of, she came to mind yesterday some thirty plus years since we first met and I penned the following lines in memory of her experinces as my 'Thought for today.' :

'Pull me from my past' by William Forde: Copyright May 13th, 2014.

"Pull me from my past and leave me not in want of eternal peace of mind. Return me to the innocence of my youth; to a time when all touch was tender and was to be welcomed.

Who was this monster of the night who interrupted my innocence and introduced me to lifelong secrecy and sordid acts my mind knew not existed; he who spurred me on to wild abandonment from untarnished youth to sexless adulthood?

He took a youthful bud not yet blossomed and plucked it from safe ground and embedded it close to his cold hands. And when he'd done all he'd desired to do, he chose my younger sister and left me filled with nought but anger and silent screams of never-ending pain with which to fill my days and haunt my sleepless nights.

Please.......please take my hand and help me lose this pain, for it is too heavy to continue carrying alone. He said he was my dad, but surely can't have been or would never have done me down and left me to waste." William Forde: May 13th, 2014

May 12th, 2014

12/5/2014

Thought for today:
"For anyone out there who doubts the benefits which can be derived from regular exercise and in particular Yoga, don't look at an old bear like me. Instead look at my beautiful wife Sheila who teaches Yoga and holds her weekly classes in Haworth and Keighley.

What a difference there exists between the beauty and the beast. Every time I go out for a walk, I come back looking knackered and panting like a dog on heat, but each time Sheila goes out to work, she returns looking better and more in shape than when she left that morning!

There's no denying it. As I start to resemble Yogi Bear more daily, my Sheila grows more in the image of the Mona Lisa. Look her up on http://www.sheilamurray.co.uk/ She won't mind and you will most certainly benefit!" William Forde: May 12th, 2014.

May 11th, 2014

12/5/2014

Thought for today:
'Woman of the Night' by William Forde: Copyright, May 11th, 2014.

"See how she leans her cheek towards my hand when she seeks solace of my soul. Her touch has memory to behold; it comforts, it reassures, it embraces and embalms. She cannot receive pleasure without first giving. She is never stinting in her generosity nor mean in praise of other's efforts. She is never short in temper and always gives more than was asked of her or is expected. Wherever she stands on any subject, she will hold her ground without giving sway; always leaving room for the views and opinions of others to be given accommodation beside those of her own. She will never touch the world with badness of thought or with compliments of insincerity.

Her eye of humanity is all seeing. It encompasses all things beautiful and where insight is often blind to silent pain, it embraces the sharing of another's happiness and heartache in equal measure. She walks boldly in high expectation of mankind's capacity to be good and to do well, but treads ever so carefully on fragile ground that lies sacred to the feelings or emotions of another.

She never presses herself upon another nor tries to evershadow them in word or deed. Instead her presence shines down a spotlight upon all things beautiful in people; making more popular those precious things in the individual that we often take for granted and cannot easily see. And though she shines the spotlight on the rest of the human cast, she is forever mindful not to step into the light when it shines upon another's time and place.

Her heart beats kindest of all to nature's drum and she embraces concern for God's earth and all its creatures. Her song of nature flows to the tune of compassion in a stream of endless selflessness that never gets lost in self pity or swamped in denial. Her healing power can breach dams of repressed thought and penetrate the hardest of hearts that longs to love and be loved in return.

She has but one love to bestow on one man; one heart and one life to give without attention divide and these she gave to me. She is my eyes, my touch, my heart, my all; she is my soul mate, my woman of the night!" William Forde: May 11th, 2014.

May 10th, 2014.

10/5/2014

Thought for today:
"Don't you dare think nasty thoughts about me behind my back, Buster! I've already told you that we'll play after the fish bite and the fat lady sings! Now stop pestering me and nudging me closer to the river!" William Forde" May 10th, 2014.

May 9th, 2014.

10/5/2014

Thought for today:
"During the 1990s I visited over two thousand schools in the whole of Yorkshire where I held story-telling assemblies. I was assisted in this work by over eight hundred famous names to promote themes I considered to be very important in a young child's life (eg bereavement, loss, bullying, homelessness, racism and sexism etc.) All of the £200,000 profit from the sales of my books was given to charitable causes. All of the profits from my sixty e-book publications today are also given to charity.

During twelve years of almost daily school visits, the most glaring problem I encountered which was 'constant' across the social divide of rich and poor and between town and country schools, was the problem of 'sexism.' It didn't seem to matter whether I was visiting a school in the outer Dales or the inner city, or whether the school was church based or secular, I was consistently faced with the same problem'

Finding a male teacher in a Primary School was almost as rare as finding a woman priest in any parish. Most of the headteachers in Yorkshire schools were men, although there were more women heads to be found in the primary section than in the higher echelons of the secondary and comprehensive educational section.

The curriculum, activities and the assumptions given throughout almost all primary schools I visited, unwittingly reinforced the continuation of these sexist distinctions between the girls and the boys, while the overall behaviour in the classroom of both pupil and teacher simply strengthened these prejudices.

These twelve years of daily observation taught me that the boys were given more consideration of their needs by their overstretched class teacher than the girls because they tended to be the most noisiest and disruptive when they weren't immediately attended to. I also noticed that similar behaviour from both sexes would invariably receive a dissimilar response of a more disproportionate nature. It was as though boys were expected to behave thus whereas girls weren't or that boys were expected to do things that girls didn't and to go places where girls didn't go!

My response to this was to write twelve stories about a girl called 'Annie' who was just like any other child; girl or boy. I essentially wanted to highlight the blatent sexism practised in our society by deliberately changing the 'little good girl' image that so often becomes the stereotype. My aim in this direction of increasing 'girl power' and reducing sexism was heartedly shared by the late Dame Catherine Cookson who heard about my Annie stories and requested that I send her and her husband Tom a recorded tape of them. Upon hearing the twelve stories, Dame Catherine and her husband liked them so much that they paid for a limited- edition publication of my 'Action Annie Omnibus' containing all tweve stories for 5-9 year olds, with the profits going to a national children's charity.

In my 'Action Annie' stories, which are now published as e-books in either single or omnibus story-format I naturally aim to entertain, educate and inform the child reader. However, I also aim to remind their parents that when they next look at their young offspring that they remember that both their sons and daughters miss out when the experiences given to each are determined primarilly by their sex. In particular, I want them to take off their rose-coloured glasses the next time they look at their 'little princess' and to recognise in her the beast they have bred. I want to shatter their pretentious image of female childhood and to look at their daughters anew. When they next view their pretty daughter whom they dressed in ribboned pig-tails, I want them to know beyond any shadow of doubt that she swears, fights, farts, destroys and thinks nasty and spiteful thoughts just as often as her boyish brother does!

The Chief Inspector of Schools for Ofsted at the time that Dame Catherine helped me first publish the 'Action Annie Omnibus' edition was Chris Woodhead. He gave an interview to the newspaper describing my 'Action Annie' stories as 'High quality literature.' Because the initial print was a limited edition and was never reprinted in hard-back copy format, if you ever get hold of a copy, be aware it has a value. For over one year between 2010 and 2011, second-hand copies were being advertised in the USA for between one thousand dollars ($1,000) and two thousand dollars ($2000). All profit from its e-book sales goes to charity and it can be obtained by accessing https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/129476 " William Forde: May 9th, 2014.

May 8th, 2014.

9/5/2014

Thought for today:
"The Irish have never been a race to miss an opportunity that presents itself. Show them any old piece of ground or artifact anywhere on the Emerald Isle and if hasn't yet entered Irish folklore, you can bet your sweet life that before another spud has been grown and eaten or another pint of Guinness drunk, it will have been immortalised in every public place between Portlaw and Portlaoise!

I can even lay good money as to who the 'teller' might be. At the top of the list will be 'dear old mum,' followed closely by a 'peg-selling gypsy' or a 'travelling vagrant' who'd once trained as a priest before he got a milk maid pregnant and went off to live as a hermit on Croagh Patrick Mount in County Mayo for the next fifty years as a penance for his misspent youth.

I was always able to talk bluntly and straight forwardly with my mother as I grew up. To her no subject was either unsuitable or improper between mother and child to discuss, providing that the intent of the young inquirer was one of genuine interest and curiosity and not salacious pruriance! One day out of curiosity in my mid teens I asked her where I'd been conceived. Everyone knows where they were born, but very few mothers ever tell their child where they were conceived! My mother's reply was, 'Beneath the shadow of 'The Metal Man' in Tramore; some ten miles from where you were born, Billy.' I have always believed in the maxim that 'Those who dare, do' along with the wise addage, 'If you don't ask, you don't get!'

It is the strangest of facts, but life has taught me that the truthful tale is less often believed than an untrue story or as my friend Graham Smith might sceptically say, 'He's weaving without weft and the holes in his argument are plain to see.'

Though I have told all my six brothers and sisters this truthful account of my conception as revealed to me by my mother in my teens, not one of them believes me. Perhaps on reflection, 'wants to believe me' would be nearer the mark? All my siblings think that 'I'm romancing the stone' as the folk from Blarny Castle might say.The simple truth is that none of my mother's other six children would ever have dared asked her what I did. That is why she told me many things that she never revealed to them; not because I was her first born, but because I dared to give a damn and wanted to find out!

This famous landmark comprised initially of three-high concrete pillars standing in a field. Perched on the top of the central concrete pillar is a figure known as 'The Metal Man'. These three pillars were erected as a warning to boats and ships coming into Tramore's shallow waters, warning them to keep out from the dangerous rocks.

Built in 1823, 'The Metal Man' is still standing strong today. The first owners were 'Lloyds of London', an insurance company who held it for over a hundred years and then, when the wars raged in Europe, the Irish Lights in Dublin took over ownership. 'The Metal Man' was erected on top of the central pillar after the dreadful tragedy of the 'Seahorse,' went down with over 360 people on board in Tramore Bay in 1816. Will all the astrologists out there please note that the sunken ship was called the 'Seahorse' and that I was born in the Chinese year of the Horse! I just love these happy coincidents of life.

After my mother had revealed this part of her private past to me, I naturally visited 'The Metal Man' every time I returned home on holiday thereafter. Unfortunately, it is cordoned off to today's sightseer in Tramore and unless you are prepared to risk prosecution and to duck the pellet shot of the farmer's shot gun who protects the field in which it is erected, you will just have to view it from a quarter-mile-away distance. I'm so pleased that the Irish authorities considered it to have been highly improper to continue to allow the footfall of millions of tourists to Tramore to walk on hallowed ground where my dear old mum once lay!

I include a picture of me in my early twenties hopping around it with my grandfather in hot pursuit. My grandfather's tale about 'The Metal Man' cannot be found in any text accessible to anyone who wasn't conceived there, but he said that however many times a man can hop around the tower in one's stockinged feet without pause, will represent the number of children that grasshopper will eventually father.

Okay........if you must know I'll tell you, providing you keep it a secret. I did manage to hop around seven times, but to the best of my knowledge I've only ever fathered four children. Will any 'pretenders to the throne' who happen to be out there please submit blood, hair and tissue sample to the solicitors of my estate following my passing and I assure you that if you're mine you'll not be forgotten. I can assure you that your name and order of ascendancy in the Forde family tree will be duly recorded in the frontispiece of the family bible and it will also be inscribed on a brass plate alongside the names of my other children. That plate can be found attached to the central pillar of 'The Metal Man' in Tramore today.

It's such a pity that you may not get to see it though..... unless that is, you're prepared to make a run for it under a shower of Irish farmer's buckshot besides risking spending the rest of your days in solid confinement within the walls of the only high-security establishment for criminals in the South of Ireland; Portlaoise Prison in County Laois!" William Forde: May 8th, 2014.

May 7th, 2014.

8/5/2014

Thought for today:
"My mother often told me never to hurry through life because it is often prone to end at the most unlikely of moments; and usually when we least expect it. Although she has been deceased for the past twenty eight years, her memory and her sayings lives on in me.

'Billy, never hurry through life because it is too short and soon goes by. Whatever matters press upon your mind, always make time to smell the flowers as you pass by as you may never walk that way again!" William Forde: May 7th, 2014.

May 6th, 2014.

7/5/2014

Thought for today:
"I was born in Portlaw, a small backwater four-street village in County Waterford, Ireland. My earliest memories as a child was the house where I was born in William Street along with the cool waters of the river that ran through the pastures of nearby Curraghmore.

It was in the cool waters of this river, not far from where this photograh was taken that I tasted my first experience of 'skinny dipping.' It may be frowned on in the polite parlours of England today, but back in 1957 when I was almost fifteen years old, children who couldn't sing were never discouraged from singing and even fat kids were allowed to 'skinny dip.'

My partner for that sunny afternoon was a girl called Briney Walsh who lived next door to my grandparent's home where I was born. Briney was 18 years old and being three and a half years older than me at the time, she had more than I possessed to show off to any Curraghmore bird spotters lurking nearby! This was the very first time I fell in love and every time I went back to holiday in Portlaw during the years ahead, the first person whose whereabouts I asked about was Briney.

I never did have the pleasure of seeing Briney again, although my grandmother always kept me updated in her letters to my mother in England when Briney got married, had her first three children and then sailed to England after running away from her husband with a fish monger from Skibbereen, West Cork.

Forever an old romantic and sentimentalist, I replayed the images up Curraghmore many times over in my mind during the years ahead. I wanted to believe that the 'first one' is never forgotten in the memory of a good woman as I knew there is an arrogance in the pride of the young lion that inwardly reaffirms the boast that 'the first is first and the second is nobody.' I must also admit that there was a wicked part of me that relished the notion that I'd caught my fish first and had returned it to the cool Irish waters for future capture three years before the Skibbereen marriage breaker ever came on the scene. Ah....the joys of spring up Curaghmore are not to be missed by the warm of heart in the Vale of dear Portlaw!

Now, that is a wholly true tale from Portlaw that I present today from my past, but all my made-up 'Tales from Portlaw' (for adult reading only), can be freely read on my website by accessing the link below." William Forde: May 6th, 2014. http://www.fordefables.co.uk/tales-from-portlaw.html