- New Page
- Site Index
- About Me
- Book List & Themes
- Strictly for Adults Novels >
Tales from Portlaw
- No Need to Look for Love
- 'The Love Quartet' >
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 >
- The Oldest Woman in the World >
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 >
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' >
- Fourteen Days >
‘The Postman Always Knocks Twice’
- Author's Foreword
- 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
Thoughts and Musings
- Bereavement >
- Nature >
Bill's Personal Development
- What I'd like to be remembered for
- Second Chances
- Holidays of Old
- Memorable Moments of Mine
- Cleckheaton Consecration
- Canadian Loves
- Mum's Wisdom
- 'Early life at my Grandparents'
- Family Holidays
- 'Mother /Child Bond'
- Childhood Pain
- The Death of Lady
- 'Soldiering On'
- 'Romantic Holidays'
- 'On the roof'
- Always wear clean shoes
- 'Family Tree'
- The importance of poise
- 'Growing up with grandparents'
- Love & Romance >
- Christian Thoughts, Acts and Words >
- My Wedding
- Audio Downloads
- My Singing Videos
- Bill's Blog
- Contact Me
Thought for today:
"A father carries his offspring until they are old enough to make their own way in the world, but a mother will never place any time span around the breadth of her affection or extent of her patience and will be prepared to carry her offspring until the day she dies.
No matter how far we travel in life, our mother is always with us. Just as we started off our life in her, our adult years ensures that she always lives on within us. That is what makes her the gatekeeper of our inner secrets and protector of our souls. Even death itself cannot sever the umbilical cord that enjoined us at birth, through which mum continues to yield her genetic influence from beyond the grave. Even when mum is no longer here, she still remains in our shadow and lingers behind our every thought and breath as we see her stare straight back at us through the faces of our offspring. She makes her daily presence felt in their looks and peculiar ways, in their mannerisms and movements. She is always the first woman in our lives that we loved and also the last!
For many a man, mum has helped pick our wives; having 'arranged' our marriage without our knowledge, simply by being the mum we love. For instance, I have always dated shoulder-length black-haired women and would probably have turned down Marilyn Monroe without a second glance. Coincidentally, my beautiful mum had long black hair in her youth, way up until her late thirties.
Without knowing it at the time, many a man measures his future wife to his mother's looks more than his present fancy. It is not therefore surprising when his wife happens to have many of the physical features that his own mother once possessed when she first met his dad.
It also becomes less surprising when he says to his sweetheart, 'Are you sure we've not met before in some other life. We like the same things....and share the same values. It's uncanny....like destiny intended us to meet. You are so like me; so like the soul mate I've always hoped for.'
What he really means about his bride-to-be is, 'You are so like the mother I've always loved, worshipped and adored!'
Then as our own children arrive on the scene, money and time alone with our wives becomes scarcer and tempers start to fray more easily. The once passionate nights we used to share over a pizza and a bottle of wine become gradually replaced by discussion of money shortage and the rationing of his or her activities while the financial belt is tightened. Bodies seem more tired after a hard day's work and parental patience starts to wane when 11pm comes round and the kids still aren't asleep. Add all of this to a decrease in intimate contact allied to our marriage partner's increased nightly headaches, and you find the closeness you once shared nightly during your pre-child years of marriage has faded into distant memory, only to re-emerge at Christmas, holiday and birthday occasions, plus the occasional wedding attendance and night out on the town. All of the aforementioned sadly signals the arrival of the 'routine marriage stage'. Paradoxically, this is a much calmer time in married life when the couple now row less often; largely because their split duties, overall work commitments and personal interests tend to keep them apart more than together.
It is at this stage of marriage that the couple begin to reassess their relationship. The man starts to wonder what life would have been like had he married Jenny with the long black hair instead of Julie and her long black hair that touched her waist. The man looks at his wife, who looked like his mother when they first met. As he looks anew at the woman he married, he sees that she no longer looks like his loving mum, but is now fast growing into the spitting image of his mother-in-law who never thought him good enough in the first place for 'her little girl'.
Mummy....Mummy, where are you Mummy when I most need you? Your big boy wants a cuddle and a bit of sympathy. Nobody understands me like you do!'
And the simple truth is that no one ever will!"
William Forde: June 29th, 2015.
Thought for today:
"It is a fortunate thing to be rich and a good thing to be strong, but it is a far, far better thing to be loved by so many friends. He who seeks to secure the good of others has already secured his own. Your many true friends did not come about or suddenly appear because of any accidental growth; their seed was planted by nothing less than one of your good acts of unselfish desire at the right time and in the right place. So keep on planting as before and good friends will always be part of your crop. Now, give us a hug, you big pussy cat!" William Forde: June 28th, 2015.
Thought for today:
"Today is my youngest brother Michael's birthday. Being at the other end of the sibling scale with my sister Susan, until more recent years, Michael always seemed so distant to me and the older family siblings. In many ways, he is a listener more than a talker and generally carries on his life in the background these days without making too much fuss. I often feel that being the youngest of four brothers, he has frequently felt himself in the shadows of success as Billy's, Patrick's or Peter's 'youngest brother.'
The simple truth is that over the years Michael has found his own peace of mind outside the boisterousness of his loud family circle. I often think that from all four brothers, though he may have seemed to have cracked fewer pots than the other three males in climbing up the greasy pole of success, he is in many ways the wisest of us all. He seems to have found the secret of solitude during moments when he most needs it and requires not the accolades of those around to know his own successes.
He is in short 'his own man' with 'his own ways' and he is loved and held in no less regard than any of my other siblings. While as the eldest child of seven, I can boast that I probably did the most for mum when the family was growing up, as the second youngest, it has been my brother Michael who has tended our mum's grave ever since she died thirty years ago. No greater love can a son show for his mother than to keep tidy the place where she and dad finally rest.
Michael has been lucky to find a forgiveness of self in his moments alone and has learned that solitude is the glory of being alone. We live in a very stressful society today where tensions and pressures pull us apart. If we are ever to learn how to pull ourselves together, I think that at least part of the answer lies in rediscovering 'solitude'. This means getting back in touch with one's inner feelings; falling back in love with all aspects of Nature and reminding oneself that we should never waste one minute of a misty morn when rabbits run free across fields of fresh air and birds sing their song of life so sweetly in woodland tree tops.
Happy sixty first birthday, Michael. I love you lots. Brother. Billy xxx" William Forde: June 27th, 2015.
Thought for today:
"All self talk is nothing less than a conversation with one's universe." William Forde: June 26th, 2015.
Thought for today:
" In a week and a half I shall be holidaying in County Kerry, Ireland with my wife Sheila and my daughter Rebecca. During my break there I shall make sure that I have a day travelling back to the village of my birth in Portlaw, County Waterford where I intend to meet up with friends old and new. Being one of the few authors to have come out of Portlaw, I am always welcomed home graciously by the folk there and made a fuss of. While there, I also intend to look up a new face book contact, Margaret Archer.
Facebook has the capacity to widen one's range of contacts in a way that ten years ago I would never have thought possible. It has made the entire world accessible for all of us who use this social media. Margaret Archer, who lives in County Waterford, Ireland messaged me the other week and the upshot was that her mother's best friend (Doonie Quinn) who has since sadly passed away, lived in the house next door to where I was born. The coincidence did not stop there, but during my teenage years when I often returned to holiday in Ireland at my grandparents' house in William Street, Doonie was a constant visitor. She used to come around on the pretence of cadging a cigarette from my uncle Willie, but I think it was to check me out. Indeed, my very first Irish girlfriend was Doonie Quinn. Doonie was older then me and much bolder, but she always made my holidays back home more memorable.
My memories of those holidays long ago will always remain with me and it was Doonie who first introduced me to skinny dipping in the river up Curraghmore one summer when I was aged seventeen. I suppose when I think about it, I could say that she was the one who taught me how to jump in puddles in my birthday suit for the sheer hell of it. God bless you Doonie. Please note that as a 'fatty' these days, I shall not be going skinny dipping again with any Irish colleen." William Forde: June 25th, 2015.
Thought for today:
"Today I go into hospital again for my three-weekly blood transfusion. I am however sad this morning as a dear friend of mine, Clive Poole from Australia, who died last week, is having his funeral service today across the other side of the world. Taken from this earth far too soon in life, I will always remember him as being 'a gentleman and scholar; the man from down under who always came up trumps!'
When my son William and his then girlfriend Eve (now William's wife), emigrated to Perth a good number of years ago and had virtually nothing to start off their life with out there, it was Clive and his wife Julie who stepped into the breach and supplied them with all manner of assistance and things they needed. They supported them materially and psychologically until they got on their feet. They fed them often, took them on outings occasionally and instantly made them a part of their family. Julie was a mother substitute to my son and her husband Clive was a friend indeed. For such acts of generosity in looking after my son and his wife, I will remain forever indebted.
Being unable to attend today's funeral and as my own modest tribute to Clive, I have composed a poem whose sentiments and overall message I think he would have liked. It is called, 'Run Strong the Race of Life.' God bless you Clive and love to Julie and all of the Poole family. My epitaph to you Clive is, 'You never failed to meet the mark of all.'
'Run Strong the Race of Life' : (Dedicated to the life and times of Clive Poole: Born 16/07/54-Died 16/06/15) : Copyright William Forde: June 24th, 2015.
'Run strong the race of life, run deep the search for soul.
Find passage through corn field high, make winner's tape your final goal.
While success will bring you earth's acclaim, no status can revive bad name.
Hold hard and fast to spoken vow, find heaven's promise here right now.
Don't risk the stain of family name, don't let your child inherit shame.
Make old enemies your latest friends; allow new friendship to all ends.
Do this and surely you'll not fall, nor fail to meet the mark of all.'"
William Forde: June 24th, 2015.
Thought for today:
"It was once said that western civilisation is a loaded gun pointed at the head of this planet in which most of what we do is geared to destroy and not sustain. Why cannot mankind realise that by living a life built upon increased consumerism, we are eating away our planet bit by bit? We should only take from the earth's resources that which we are prepared to put back if future life is to be sustained.
The planet's biggest problems have to do with sustainability, environmental decline, global poverty, disease, conflict and so forth. The simple truth is that they're all interconnected. It's all one big problem and the way we're doing things can't go on. The first rule of 'sustainability' is to align with natural forces, or at least not try to defy them.
Forests and meat animals compete for the same land. The prodigious appetite of the affluent nations for meat means that agribusiness can pay more than those who want to preserve or restore the forest. The unpalatible truth is that rainforests are being burnt down to make room for the expansion of more McDonalds! When we destroy the rainforests, we deplete our range of natural cures and empty the medicine cabinets. We are, quite literally, gambling with the future of our planet, and all for the sake of hamburgers.
Alas, our technology has marched ahead of our spiritual and social evolution, making us, frankly, a dangerous people from which our children and their children's children will one day inherit the seeds we now sow. Sustainability and survival is about the future generations for whom we make decisions today. We need to defend the interests of those whom we've never met and never will." William Forde: June 23rd, 2015.