Blog Archives - FordeFables

July 30th, 2016.

30/7/2016

Thought for today:
"There is nothing new that wasn't known before; nothing original which no other ever experienced. The seed of all our achievements was sown in the days of our forefathers, and all of our greatness attained today has been borne on the backs and shoulders of those who have gone before. All the paths we have travelled and have yet to find, were long ago discovered and walked by our ancestors; all the marvellous thoughts we have yet to think have been thought before and the sayings we have still to utter, were previously given voice in many tongues and dialects.

There is in essence, nothing that is purely original except the wrapping in which it is presented, with perhaps one possible exception; that unique love that springs from a mother to her children. Such is a love that her offspring cling to as they grip the pulsation of her heart and never let loose the hold upon her affection, in this life or in the next.

Not even when mum's heart beat has stilled and her body rests beneath the ground; not even then, can her children let go and let her be. We still make demands upon her beyond the grave, invoking her memory at every family celebration and significant happening, telling her things and talking to her when she should be at rest; just like we would as children, when we would invade her bedroom and wake her up from her Saturday morning lie in by jumping on her bed until she stirred into action once more.

Even when the ravages of old age robs one's memory and steals ourselves from this life towards final rest, even then, mum's memory and image will be the last thing to be visualised and forgotten; and with our dying breath, we will thank her for carrying us from cradle to grave without complaint.

I will be with you again soon, Mum. Save me a good spot up there. It will be so good to see you again as I've got so much to ask you." William Forde: July 30th,2016.

July 29th, 2016.

29/7/2016

Thought for today:
"In every friend, we find a second self, and our very first friend is mum. Every parent should live their life, so when their children think of fairness, love, sensitivity, caring and integrity, they think of mum and dad.

There is in true acceptance, a touch of unqualified love that requires no words to know its meaning. It is a feeling so soft, that it produces transfer of thought from mind to mind and look to look with the effortless of an innocent smile. It is most easily witnessed in the actions of the young; when the loving eyes of one innocent child looks into the eyes of another innocent and sees the smiling reflection of their love bounce back. This is the purest 'love of one's neighbour' the world is ever likely to know.

If only it could be bottled and transported to every war zone and place of unrest across the world, peace would reign forevermore and heaven-here-on-earth would be in the making for all mankind." William Forde: July 29th, 2016.
https://youtu.be/-CZ7A4o8irM

July 28th, 2016.

28/7/2016

Thought for today:
"During my early years working as Probation Officer in Huddersfield, I took a one year's advanced diploma in Behaviour Modification at Manchester University. A large part of this course made use of the latest methods in psychology, particularly when working with children whose anti-behaviour is thought to be harder to change than many adults, as many mothers at their wits end have discovered.

From my year on this course, which was run by one of the country's top psychologists, two methods stood out in my memory that proved to be head and shoulders above the rest. Both methods worked, but only one was considered acceptable to use with children.

First, we considered the 'unacceptable', but nevertheless 'highly effective method'; something which offered the misbehaving child the imminent prospect of getting hurt through the threat of violence if they didn't change their behaviour.

A mother and her son were waiting in the office of an Educational Psychologist where her six year old son was to be assessed for constantly displaying a rebellious attitude and aggressive behaviour whenever he wanted his own way. In the room was a rocking horse, upon which another child was quietly playing. The aggressive child approached the rocking horse and without any warning, he yanked the other child off it onto the floor, mounted the horse and jumped in the saddle. His mother, seeing what her son had done, apologised profusely to the other mum and then tried to persuade her son to get off the rocking horse and apologise to the child he'd hurt. Her son refused outright and ignored all her entreaties to dismount.

Seeing what had happened, a psychologist approached the aggressive child on the rocking horse and whispered in his ear. The child immediately got off the rocking horse, looking sheepish and without a murmur. Flabbergasted, the boy's mother asked the psychologist what he had said to produce such a compliant response in her rebellious son. The psychologist whispered in her ear the precise words he'd whispered to her rebellious child: 'While your own mother let's you get your own way, I won't! You have five seconds to get off this horse before something very bad will happen to you. If you are not back in your seat sitting quietly at the side of your mother in six seconds, I will break your little neck. Now, move!'

I strongly suspect that this branch of psychology was used by parents and grandparents everywhere before the Second World War.

The second method was considered to be highly ethical and very effective and I have used it hundreds of times ever since; it never fails. Whenever I see a child crying loudly because it isn't getting its own way, I will look directly into the child's face and say, 'I've heard of children crying loudly, but have never seen one cry as loud as you before. Go on, give me your loudest cry as I'd love to record it. Go on, cry and scream as loud as you can, please.' Upon hearing this request, the crying child always stops instantly, which also goes to prove what our mothers and grandmothers have known for generations; tell a child to do one thing and their natural instinct is to do the opposite!

Come to think of it, I think we could justifiably swap the term 'psychology' and exchange it for something like 'Grandma's Rules!' And whilst we're at it, we could also dispense with the one-year Advanced Diploma in Behaviour Modification at Manchester University and instead, simply ask grandma. What say you?" William Forde: July 28th, 2016.

July 27th, 2016.

27/7/2016

Thought for today:
"The past week has been the best week, health-wise, that I've experienced during the past four months since I contracted a very bad chest infection which refused to clear. I am currently shaking off the last vestiges of the chest bug and have been able to get out into the sun on four or five days during the past seven days. Also, I haven't needed a blood transfusion for the past two months (usually fortnightly), as the course of hormone injections which I am receiving instead, seem to be doing their job and raising my red blood count. The hospital telephoned and confirmed last night that my latest blood count is the best it has been since I completed my nine month course of chemo treatment almost two years ago. While none of this will change the ultimate course and consequences of my terminal condition, I am getting a significant boost of energy in the meantime and my body is feeling less tired. In fact, if I wasn't dying, I'd have to say that I currently feel great!

At long last, the sun has burst out of its heavenly closet and is shouting to all the flowers that grace Haworth Moor, 'Time to come out, my beauties. It's time to come out!'

The moorland heathers sit upon their crown of grass in regal purple and emerald green, looking down upon the reservoir in the gully below, feeling every inch, the Kings and Queens of Keighley, dressed to the nines in their summer splendour.

Then, they cast their eyes towards the cobbled Main Street of Haworth Village where sleepy citizens awake to face another day. The moorland beauties scream at the top of their voice, 'The cold has gone and summer is here at long last. Shut down your fires, for the sun has come to warm your hearts and bring out your cheer. Lock up your houses and unleash your dogs and wives, for it's time to come out and face the freedom of the world once more!'" William Forde: July 27th, 2016.

July 26th, 2016.

26/7/2016

Thought for today:
"Having been a mill worker for the first fourteen years of my working life and a lover of the industrial history of England, I have always been fascinated by the history of the mills in West Yorkshire and Lancashire during the 19th century when England was the texile capital of the world. With the exception of a few philantropic mill owners like Sir Titus Salt, who in 1853 built Salt's Mill in Saltaire, Bradford, along with a model village for his workers, which held a church, school, canteen, library and other outlets to keep his contented workforce Christian, other mill owners were far less charitable.

The vast majority of mill owners had only one prime concern; that of making as much profit as they could, and towards this end, they worked their workers to the bone for pitiful wages and kept their overheads as low as possible. Such practices meant that the safety of the workers was never a primary concern of the mill owner. Workers would work exceedingly long hours in the coldest of conditions. Indeed, their environments were deliberately kept at a low temperature in order to encourage greater worker speed. There were often a few brief breaks during their long day and their food sustanence would have to be eaten at their looms.

In fact, most things happened within visual range of their loom and work bench. Being reminded of such days recently by my friend, Joseph Newns from Warrington, it spurred me on to pen this poem. It is about a young woman who conceives and delivers her baby on the mill floor within sight of her loom during her brief work break one winter's morn. Dedicated to Joseph Newns.

'Cockhedge Mill' by William Forde

In Cockhedge Mill one winter morn, a boy called Joseph Newns was born.
As mother lay upon the ground, the wooden flooring did abound,
as sounds of looms went, clickerty clack,
the shuttles shot forward, then shot back.

The bundled babe filled mother's arms,
as weavers worked around the charms of mother feeding from the breast,
still anchored to the floor did rest until the foreman spotted her, rebuking her for heaven's sake,
for having baby in her break.

Get back to work, you sorry wench,
move, get thee sharply to thy bench.
The mother thought how babe was born, behind the loom one Friday morn.
Conceived and birthed upon same ground, if poetic justice could be found,
it would be found in the sound of the shuttlecock.

William Forde Copyright: July 26th, 2016.

July 25th, 2016.

25/7/2016

Thought for today:
"No creatures comprehends us more than dogs and horses, and while I have owned many a dog, I have never owned a horse. Come to think of it, the two things which I have loved most, but never owned, have been a horse and a woman. Never having had a horse of my own is undoubtedly one of the few regrets I have, especially as they are my lucky birth sign, having been born in the Chinese Year of the Horse.

When you look at a horse in its stable and it comes to you unasked and rubs its head on yours, that is when you know you are loved. Their speed is born in a whisper of the wind, their heart is grounded in the bosom of Mother earth and their soul surfs the river stream. Many horse lovers believe them to be no less than nature incarnate. Their strength comes not from their sheer might and physical capacity, but from their indomitable spirit to live naturally in nature's fields, whatever the weather.

When you climb into the saddle, be ready for the ride as every horse reacts differently to things out of the ordinary. Because of one of my legs being shorter than the other, I always needed each stirrup positioned at different height, to compensate for any imbalance of posture. When I first started riding, I found it difficult to sit upright in the saddle and it took me ages to be able to canter without falling off. Even though I may have seen myself galloping into the jaws of death as I imagined being one of the 600 in 'The Charge of The Light Brigade', somehow I knew I didn't quite look the part. It's hard to lead a cavalry charge when you look funny on a horse.

I eventually developed sufficient rider skills to be able to move from canter to gallop without falling off my steed, yet always believed it a miracle to manage an unbroken ride. Because of the constant danger of being unseated, there was always that fear at the back of my mind and I knew that when it didn't happen, I'd become part of another miracle.

Those was the times when I chose to recall my mum's advice; 'Billy, if you don't believe in miracles, then they'll never happen!'

During later years, I used horse riding as an escape from some of the bigger things in life; making my moments in the saddle a time to think things out. I always saw life more clearly from the back of a horse. Sitting comfortably in the saddle gives one a different perspective and once the horse gets into its stride, its just like poetry in motion. One's thinking assumes a clarity that is unobtainable out of the saddle and the essense of what truly matters is never lost. Not only do you borrow freedom when you ride a horse, but by the time you next dismount the steed and rejoin the world, you discover that you have unburdened yourself from whatever troubled you when you initially mounted.

When I was a young boy, on the estate where I lived, the milk man, coal merchant, the rag and bone man and the man who sold fresh vegetables, all had a horse and cart to pull their produce. Some of the horses were so used to their round that they would stop at the correct spot without being instructed to do so. The most special horse that I considered my favourite was a chestnut Shire with a white blaze who was getting on in years and who was also going blind. The coal man was the horse's owner and when his faithful horse went totally blind, instead of putting her out to grass in more leisurely retirement, to minimise his overheads, he still continued to use the Shire on his rounds for another two years. He use to say that his horse did not require eyesight to continue the daily round it had done for fifteen years and that a mere movment of the reins would suffice.

Occasionally, during the school holidays, the coal man, who worked alone, would pay a few boys a shilling for an hour's hard work, filling the sacks and loading the cart before he started his daily round. I remember performing this task twice when I was ten years old. At the time, and having learned that the horse was indeed blind, I foolishly asked the coal man one morning how it could do its round. Being 1952, a time when men outside the roles of father or teacher did not bother answering the questions that boys are not supposed to ask, he gave me short shrift. He simply looked at me with his blackened face and said, 'I'm not paying good money for you to waste on idle thought. Don't you worry about the horse being blind, Lad. You just get a move on and load the cart!' Those were the days." William Forde: July 25th, 2016.

July 24th, 2016

24/7/2016

Thought for today:
"When dusk calls, nature listens and the sun settles down for the day. Unlike the sun however, anyone who is not yet done with love should refuse to settle until they find the one they seek.

I was in my late 60s before I realised how many men and women of my age are still searching for love, despite the nature of their previous experiences in the romantic stakes. As a twice divorcee who was dumped by two former wives who didn't want to be married any more, let me tell you that the story about kissing frogs holds much truth for any toad who happens to find himself in a hole. While there are a few in this world who meet their true love early on in life, marry them and stay happy evermore; for the vast majority of us, we often have to to experience a few trial runs and love at least one unsuitable partner in our life, just to know who's the right one when they come along.

Whatever age one is, we always know when romance has attached itself to the shirt tail of our dreams and won't let go. We know that love has arrived when we go to bed and don't fall asleep because our reality has suddenly become much better than our dreams. We sense that love is much more than a feeling, and know deep down that unless it is something we do with someone we hate to be parted from, it be not love.

The times in my life when I have been most alive is when I've been in love. Often passionate people confuse lust with love; loving the feeling of 'doing with' as opposed to loving the person for 'being with.' When relationships are built on lust as opposed to love, they tend to be possessive and controlling. Often, one partner (usually the man, but not exclusively so), wrongly convinces themselves that they control because they care. If one truly cares about the one they love, control within the relationship should never become an issue. To trust your partner and to show them that you truly care about them requires a realisation that the only person you should ever try to control is yourself!

I have often come across a relationship that is too possessive and clingy, where personal freedom to have ones own money, time and activities with friends is frowned upon by one partner. Just because you feel that you belong to her, doesn't mean that she and all she wants and does belongs to you!

It is only since I married Sheila I have come to fully appreciate, that for a relationship to work, man and wife should not only be sweethearts, but also the best of friends. Having a partner who is also my best friend is a most welcome and refreshing experience. I now understand that life runs more smoothly when your partner is also your friend and that the union between the spiritual and the physical is the prerequisite for becoming soul mates too. Friedrich Nietzsche said, 'It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.' What I do know with every breath of my being, is that being in love will help you abandon the mask you sometimes wear and that love will always tell the truth about yourself.

When I worked in the mill between the ages of 15 and 21 years, there was a man in his early thirties called Arthur who had been courting his girlfriend Patricia for eleven years! Throughout this time, everyone in the mill naturally assumed that Arthur and Patricia were engaged and that he was merely stringing her along to satisfy his own wicked ends. Before I left the mill to emigrate to Canada at the age of 21, Arthur provided all of his close contacts at the mill with an invitation to attend his wedding to Patricia. The occasion got off to a cracking start, the alcohol flowed freely, and overall, a good time was had by all. It was only during the best man's speech that Arthur's secret regarding his lengthy courtship to Patricia was revealed to the wedding guests. It turned out that the couple had never been engaged, despite their marathon courtship. The reason was simply that Arthur had always been afraid of asking Patricia to marry him, just in case she refused and he lost face with his work mates!

So be not reserved in your action to find true love. Anyone who is not yet done with love should refuse to settle until they find the one they seek, and once found, they should not be afraid to propose marriage before a new decade has dawned." William Forde: July 24th, 2016.

July 23rd, 2016.

23/7/2016

Thought for today:
I truly believe that there are no coincidences in life when it comes to friendship and that the person who wanders into our life comes for some purpose. Often it appears evident why we have become friends with another, yet sometimes, because of our wide differences in character, views and overall lifestyle, it doesn't seem to make any sense at all. Invariably, it takes time, often years and years, for us to see the bigger picture and to realise the true importance of that particular friend in our life at the time they first entered it.

I do distinguish friendship from acquaintenship and whereas acquaintences may come and go, your friends will come to stay in your affections. Also, friendship requires no words to communicate either message or intent, whereas acquaintences are often no more than people you see around from time to time.

Friends come in many forms and the precise nature of the friendship is usually determined by the perculiarities of the circumstances in which you first met and felt an instant bond.Most of us have a school friend who will always remain our friend and some women who have a baby in the same maternity ward as another woman they have never previously known, may become lifelong friends. Wherever you met or under whatever circumstances, it is the sharing of a particular experience and a special moment in your past that created the emotional bond between you both.

Each of knows the true value of a good friend. A good friend enables us to know that we need never feel alone again. Just as playing with a person of greater skill in most sports can improve one's own scale of competencies, likewise, there can be much merit in the practice of choosing a friend who is better than ourselves. It is harder to behave selfishly in the presence of a selfless friend.The simple truth is that good friends bring out the best in us, by simply being themselves!

During my lifetime I have known a few good friends upon whom I could depend, whatever the circumstances, and without whom, I would feel a vital piece of the jigsaw lacking if I had a big puzzle to contend with. There have also been friends, that were we stood side by side in the trenches of a battlefield during a war, that I'd be prepared to give my life for, as I know they would unthinkingly do likewise.

I once heard some chap tell another that a real friend would never allow you to take the blame for something wrong they'd done. That comment instantly transported me back to the days of my childhood, a time when I didn't always own my own actions.

When I was young and did something wrong and tried to blame it on one of my siblings, my mother always knew I was trying to escape my responsibility. She would say, 'Billy Forde, don't give me that old cat's tale. Why do you always blame it on the dog?'

Isn't it strange how mother's always address you by your Christian name only when they are loving you and include both Christian and surname when they are chastising you?" William Forde: July 23rd, 2016.

July 22nd, 2016.

22/7/2016

Thought for today:
"All of my working life as a Probation Officer in West Yorkshire, I performed my most effective work through the discipline of 'Behaviourism,' which is better known today under the social umbrella of 'Cognitive Behavioural Therapy.' This way of working essentially places great stress upon the underlying consequences of one's actions in order to establish a baseline from which to change the behaviour pattern of another.

For most of my life, I have been interested in the distinction between the intention of one's action and the consequences of them. While the consequences of one's actions are undoubtedly most important to the Behavourist, it is the intent which drives those actions that most matter to the Philosopher from a moral standpoint.

From the earliest of our childhood years, we quickly learn (without the need to repeat the process), that if we stick our hand in the fire, we burn it! Such is a natural consequence of our foolish action. Through many childhood experiments and exploration of the world around us, we also learn that eating all the cake instead of one slice will make us sick and rolling around in muddy fields will not keep our clothes clean.

If this be so, is it not the most noble of intentions that we seek to eradicate the world of those consequences that sicken us to the stomach?

What then must we do to keep clean our thoughts, keep truthful our word, keep faithful our vows and positive our intentions? The simple answer is that in order to firmly establish such positive attributes within our overall behaviour pattern, we need to practise and practise them over and over until they become an involuntary response to all we think, feel and do.

Any upright man or woman knows deep down that a tree falls the way it leans and empty sacks never stand upright. As sure as night follows day, and as sure as God made little apples, consequences always follow actions. However fast a horse may run quickly, it will never escape its tail. We do well therefore, always to seek the truth and endure the consequences!

Just think of the tragedy of not teaching our young that every action they engage in will have a consequence, every reaction a response. We should also teach them that we are responsible for our own intent and actions; nobody else, and therefore it behoves us to own the things we say and do. Advise them always to remain truthful in what they mean, say and do, as liars need no settings of traps to trip them up; they set their own traps. Finally, warn them of the consequences of not getting back up when something or someone in life knocks them down. I frequently watched the weekly wrestling on the television as a teenager, from which I learned a profound truth. The only way one can hold another down and keep them down, is by staying down with them.

Therefore, be not too shallow in outlook and put everything that happens in your life down to luck, fate or destiny. Instead, remain sensible and rational and believe in cause and effect.

During my late parents' early years of marriage, they were as happy as two people could be, but as the children continued to be born and the means of supporting them became harder, they often argued. I recall a piece of irony that my mother once told me as a teenager: 'Billy, whatever you think of me, never feel sorry for me. Some bad things I've done, I never meant to do, and most things that went wrong, I brought upon myself. At the end of the day, an intelligent woman who reads the marriage contract and then goes ahead with it, deserves all that she gets!'

I will end with this thought. However powerful a person is, they cannot hinder another's free will. It is our own actions that will be brought to account on the Day of Judgement. Free will gives us all the capacity to make choices either good or bad and if we do not wish to burn ourselves in the next life, we do well to keep away from the fires of temptation in this!" William Forde: July 22nd, 2016.

July 21st, 2016.

21/7/2016

Thought for today:
"It is so easy to lose one's heart to a woman who is herself lost in books, so long as the fair maiden understands that what is to be found in the turning of a page can never hope to match up with those pleasures to be found in real life; turning romantic date to lover, lover to husband and husband to soul mate!

Reading as a source of learning, escapism or relaxation is of itself most rewarding, but what kind of woman would choose to sit alone with a library of musty old books, when nearby there is one whom she can sit alongside; even though he be shaped like sunken sack of spuds and is glued to football on the box while drinking canned ale, belching and farting liberally?" William Forde: July 21st, 2016.

July 20th, 2016.

20/7/2016

July 20th, 2016.

20/7/2016

Thought for today:
"Observe any child or young creature in the exploration of its world and you will find curiosity at play. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that a sense of curiosity is nature's original school of education. Only those among us who are curious to know have something in the waiting to find.

I worry not about the day when my curiosity abandons me, because I know that when this happens, I'll be dead. I can never remember a time when I wasn't curious to find out this or to know that. Sometimes the object of my curiosity were serious things but mostly, they tended to be frivolous and silly.

Have you ever wondered why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin? Also, I have always been curious why toasters should include a setting so high that it burns the bread to a horrible smoky crisp if used. I have often wondered why 'abbreviated' is such a long word and was curious to learn that though we put a man on the moon in 1969, it still took until 1970 before realising that it would be a good idea to put wheels on travel luggage. And when women go to the loo on a night out, why do they always insist in going in posses? What's all that about? And finally, why sterialise the needle when giving a lethal injection on Death Row in America? Whenever I think opon things such as these, it naturally stirs my curiosity.

I will end this post on a more serious note pertaining to the curiosity of life itself. Most parents secretly worry about the day when their young offspring start to ask highly personal questions about the birds and the bees; the origin of life itself. As dad was never home and was always working overtime, it was usually my mum who I asked whatever I wanted to know things. I knew that she would always tell me. Let me say from the outset that there was simply nothing that I felt uncomfortable ever asking my mother about as we had no taboo areas of discussion, whereas my father would quickly close down any areas of potentially embarrassing inquiry.

As mum had given birth to seven children, when asked by her nine year old son 'How they came out' she supplied the same answer that Yorkshire folk have been telling their inquisitive young for the past three hundred years; 'The same way they got in!'

During my teenage years, dad often went to bed early to stock up on energy for tomorrow's hard day at work. Mum's day, on the other hand, would always extend into the early morning hours as she did the last minute ironing and darning etc for her husband and seven children. This twilight time was the hours when we most talked about all manner of things. I recall one night asking her, 'Mum, where was I started?' She naturally replied, 'Why do you want to know that, Billy?' I replied, 'Everyone of my mates know where they were born, everyone knows the date of their birth, but I bet none know where they it all started (were conceived). In fact, I bet hardly anyone does!'

My mother told me that it was close to the Metal Man in Tramore, in County Waterford, Southern Ireland.This prominent feature of Tramore Bay is a large cast-metal figure pointing seawards. It was erected in 1823 by Lloyds of London to warn seafarers away from dangerous shallow waters.

My mother told me that the Metal Man was a favourite meeting place of her and dad during their courtship days when they would see each other secretly on a weekend. Mum would travel ten miles out from Portlaw and meet dad there while he would cycle forty miles from Kilkenny to meet up. Irish fokelore says that anyone who hops around it in their stocking feet will give birth to a child the following year. So, it seems pretty safe to conclude that my mum did quite a bit of hopping out in Tramore.

I never go back home to Ireland without calling to see the Metal Man. After all, what can be more satisfactory than being where it all began 73 years ago. Unfortunately, the Metal Man cannot be closely accessed as it once could be. I think its to do with keeping down the Irish population." William Forde: July 20th, 2016.

July 19th, 2016

20/7/2016

Thought for today:
"Few who don't know you, really care if you are down in the dumps today and some sad souls who may not particularly like you, might even be inwardly pleased. If this be the case, you might as well confound their sorry expectations and jump for joy in their presence. Whatever you do, don't put the key to your happiness in someone else's pocket." William Forde: July 19th, 2016.

July 18th, 2016.

18/7/2016

Thought for today:
"When I was a teenager, I was confident in stride, good on the dance floor, reasonably handsome looking and a hopeless romantic. During those years as a novice in love, my heart flitted from one girl to another and I found it very hard to stay within any one relationship before another seemed to beckon me. I even lost two girlfriends between the ages of sixteen and twenty to the convent.

Thinking back upon it now, I suppose that it was always a 'no contest' between both suitors. I obtained some satisfaction telling myself that were I to lose out to another, seeing them become brides of Christ as opposed to being a bride of mine made me a pretty good fall back. I did however, gain some small measure of satisfaction in later years knowing that all women, including nuns, have 'guilty pleasures' and that whenever their religious minds got distracted towards more romantic experiences of their past, that I might be theirs!

Before I got married, I came across many young women who had been educated in a convent by the nuns. The strangest thing was however, I usually found that the stricter their education and upbringing, the more daring, adventurous and liberal in attitude they were after they'd left their convent education and had their first taste of freedom! I could never quite make out if such willingness to engage in all manner of behaviour was an over-reaction to their repressed teaching and upbringing or was simply a consequence of finding pleasure in specific behaviours that would have induced guilt during earlier years?

Do you remember being bold behind the bicycle shed when you were a teenager with a young man, engaged in tasting forbidden fruit? Well, don't be fooled by convent colleens into believing that nuns are any different from you when it comes to bodily desires and earthly cravings! Even nuns are known to like a puff on the side." William Forde: July 18th, 2016.

July 17th, 2016.

17/7/2016

Thought for today:
"Did you know that flowers have meanings associated with them, and that during the late Victorian and the early 20th century, both man and woman were always aware of the message they conveyed. Flowers are a part of the most important occasions in our lives. They are conspicuously present on any occasion of celebration and remembrance.

I remember Etta, a dear friend who lived into her mid 90s. I first met Etta during her early 80s and over the years we knew each other, she grew to treat me as the son she always wanted, but never had. During the last two weeks of her life, I remained in her homely presence 24 hours daily. She refused to go into hospital to die and I was the only person whom she trusted to nurse her. Each night and day during that last fortnight of her life, Etta's mind wandered in and out of the many years she had spent on this earth and the memories she had treasured since her late teens.

One night, three days before she died, Etta asked me to go to a Georgian book cabinet she had in her lounge and retrieve one of the old books therein that she wished to hold once more. As requested I found the specific book she had asked for and took it to her. She immediately asked me to open the book to page 24 and remove a pressed daffodil which had nestled between the pages for half a century.

The pressed daffodil cost nothing and yet, to Etta, it was more precious than any amount of gold. As she was too weak to sit up at the time and was unable to even turn the pages, she asked me to look through them until I came across a pressed daffodil which she had put there during the Second World War years after her sweetheart soldier had died on the battlefields; aged 24 years. I will never forget the fond and loving expression that crossed her face as she looked at her flower of remembrance and tenderly handled the daffodil. As I watched her, it was as though she was caressing the bruised wings of a butterfly that had fallen to ground. This was followed by a look of remembered sadness and the expression of a few tears as she realised that it would never rise again.

Etta passed away a few days later, still holding the pressed daffodil which signified her greatest loss over fifty years earlier and I ensured that she was buried with it. After Etta's funeral in the grounds of the Mirfield Methodist Chapel where she had attended for over 80 years, I looked up the choice of her flower which she had pressed to her heart fifty years earlier before inserting within the leafs of an old Victorian book. Knowing what she had told me about her soldier sweetheart, I realised the total appropriateness of her choice, the humble daffodil; a flower that is usually one of the first floral gifts every child buys the mother they love on Mother's Day.

I learned that the daffodil symbolizes regard and chivalry, qualities she believed that her soldier sweetheart possessed in abundance. Daffodils are also indicative of rebirth, new beginnings and eternal life. Upon leaving to go to war, Etta's sweetheart soldier and she swore to marry upon his return, an event that sadly was never destined to be. A single daffodil is also thought to foretell a misfortune, whilst a bunch of daffodils symbolize joy and happiness.

Flowers possess a beauty that even the blind can smell, the hopeful see, the child excite and the romantic pleasurably press for future recall. Often, our finest flowers are like garden friends who are always there to support us during inclement times. It is frequently the most splendid flowers that bloom more beautiful and ever stronger from the experience of their darkest moments.

After Etta's death, because I'd been moved by her tale of her soldier sweetheart (who was also called Bill like me), and their planned marriage that never came to be after the war, I wrote a poem entitled, 'Arthur and Guinevere' which can be accessed through the link below. This poem is dedicated to Etta and Bill, along with all those other brave brides to be who never married when their war sweethearts died in battle on foreign fields." William Forde: July 17th, 2016.

http://www.fordefables.co.uk/arthur--guinevere.html

July 16th, 2016

16/7/2016

Thought for today:
"As a former Probation Officer for over twenty five years, I often visited many men in prison doing a long stretch for a variety of offences. Some of their offences were so grave that the offence itself carried a life sentence. Other punishments that invited a long prison sentence included repeat offenders who just refused to mend their ways, however many second chances they received. Such offenders committed offences so numerous that the sentencing judge lost all patience with the recidivist and essentially decided to, 'Lock up the prisoner and throw away the key, because he's never going to change his ways.'

Thirty five years ago, I found myself being a married man, separated from my first wife who no longer wished to remain married and was petitioning for divorce. While having experienced many years of celibacy towards the end of our marriage, I was naturally flattered to suddenly receive the attention of a beautiful looking woman at the office where I worked. I must confess to having been tempted beyond all physical endurance at the time by the fetching dress of pink chiffon that draped her body appealingly and which fell three inches above her knees, giving her that captivating look of prepossession and which indicated she was not the type of woman to take prisoners. The overall appearance, alluring charms and 'availability' of this highly attractive woman in her late twenties bowled me over during the week leading up to the Christmas break.

The occasion in question was a work's Christmas Party where the drink flowed liberally and a merry time was had by all. As a lifelong Catholic, I had always believed that without temptation there is no growth of the soul, but I also knew that temptation rarely ends in victory for those who give in to it! Being the season of good will however, I didn't have the heart to refuse the persistent advances of the fair lady I was chatting to after she made it quite clear that it wasn't my money she was after. I found myself facing that life-long struggle with conscience that is faced by all good men, whose yearning to be in a bad situation only gets stronger the longer they stay within arm's reach of the temptation.

I sensed that this was a 'one time Christmas offer on the table' and if I turned it down, Santa might never come my way again. My only saving grace was that my temptress was of single status and wasn't in a relationship. With no marriages at the risk of being broken as a consequence of an odd fling, I succumbed to my Christmas desire.

The strange thing was that while I greatly enjoyed the experience at the time, the Catholic in me constantly stirred any conscience lurking in the background back into overdrive. This guilty pleasure of mine suddenly lost all of its pleasure; leaving behind the residual guilt to mop up. Guilty thoughts returned to the settled forefront of my mind to disturb me once more. They reminded me, that separated though I was, I was nevertheless, still married to another woman at the time of my marital transgression; even though she couldn't care two figs whether I lived or died and was divorcing me.

The Catholic religion has always possessed the power among its followers to produce guilt immediately after experiencing any 'illicit pleasure,' just like an overweight chocoholic feels when they look in the mirror and see a true reflection of themselves after they've guzzled the full box! As an intelligent and streetwise man, I knew deep down that temptation is that double-edged seesaw of guilt and pleasure. That is why, I suspect, it will always represent the woman's deadliest weapon and the man's weak will.

Many times over the years I have seen and heard of far too many relationships ruined and marriages broken by the infidelity of either partner and their inability not to stray from their marriage vows and commitments or keep their pants on. I have known of adultery leading the aggrieved partner to murder their cheating spouse and I recall too many incidents of revenge: stabbings, the pouring of boiling water over the sleeping spouse's genitals, the cutting up of entire wardrobes of expensive clothes by a deserted wife, and the dismantling of a house owned by the wife's new and younger partner by a bulldozer at nighttime, operated by a cuckold husband when his runaway wife and her new lover were fast asleep in bed.

Of all manner of womanly revenge I have known or heard of, the one that grabbed the world's headlines in 1993 was undoubtedly that of Lorena Bobbitt in Virginia.This betrayed wife was so incensed by her husband's behaviour after suffering years of abuse and marital rape, that she cut off his penis at its base as he slept soundly. Having castrated him, Lorena left their apartment with the severed body part and drove away in her car. After a few miles drive, she opened the car window and threw the offending muscle into a field. After realising the severity of her act, however, she called the police and after a lengthy search, her husband John's penis was eventually found. After a nine-hour operation, it was successfully surgically reattached to its owner.

The most poetically and just revenge I ever heard of however, was by a wife of an unfaithful husband who'd been having affairs throughout their thirteen years of marriage. He met his lover at her flat every Thursday evening when he was supposed to be practising with his football pals. His naive wife never once doubted her husband and trusted him implicitly, even leaving him something hot in the oven when he returned home late. When she did eventually find out, she could not contain her anger. Because her husband couldn't keep his trousers on, he became obliged to leave them off for nearly three months after his wife decided to hit him where it hurt most with a crow bar, breaking his manly muscle in three places and forcing him to have it splinted. I only heard part of the story and never knew if the punishment had been enough to make the adulterer change his wicked ways.

There is within every red-blooded man of romantic inclination and healthy appetite, the temptation to go astray from time to time, and even some of those who manage to initially resist their temptation, sometimes leave a forwarding address where future temptation may reach them.

Thank God for being content with the affections of one woman only, though I must confess that I slip back into the occasional temptation to flirt with their mind. It must be the writer in me............or is it the devil?" William Forde: July 16th, 2016.

July 15th, 2016.

15/7/2016

Thought for today:
"People are like stain glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out but when darkness descends, their true beauty is only revealed if there is light from within. There is nothing more beautiful than a radiance that touches all; someone who goes out of their way to make life better for others. Such people possess an inner beauty that shines through all they are, say and do. Whatever life throws at them, they choose to face the sun and allow their shadow to follow. Whether the day be fair or dull, their eyes are brighter and their smile a little warmer, their skin is more dewy and they vibrate at a different frequency and pulse of life than others.

So if a lady of beauty you want to be, then there is no better way than to be a woman with truth and honesty written across her face; a woman who will never let a man's definition of 'attractiveness' have any hold over her; a woman who makes independence, happiness and wholesomeness her chief cosmetic." William Forde: July 15th, 2016.

July 14th, 2016.

14/7/2016

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Thought for today:
"We prevent burning out in this stressful world by doing the right thing the best way we can, by keeping our cool whenever under pressure and by going with the flow of our body and conscience. Harmony and balance between these three crucial aspects of life is essential towards making one healthy and happy and starts from the very first and last thought of our day.

There is a correlation between THINKING, FEELING and DOING within the body workings of every person, and these three combined aspects of our functioning goes to make up our behavioural response pattern. Each of us have a predominance in either Thinking, Feeling or Doing, which distinquishes from another how we behave in certain circumstances.

One person may be predominantly 'A THINKER,' another 'A FEELER' (an emotional person) and the third type of person, 'A DOER.' This means that all three types both perceive and react to all situations in different ways. They will usually identify to you, very early into their conversation with you, which type they are by their very nature whenever describing a problem situation. Let's say that the problem involves the danger of all three committing suicide. One will say, 'I frequently THINK there is no point in going on because...............', another might say, 'I FEEL so bad, it's terrible, I FEEL it's not worth living, I FEEL like ending it!' Whereas the third type of person, without any verbal warning, will just DO it!

This process begins within us with a THOUGHT from which we formulate a FEELING and then harness the combination into determined ACTION (or DOING). When the THOUGHT is positive, so is the FEELING that immediately follows it, and more likely will be the ACTION that follows that . When he THOUGHT is negative, so is the FEELING that immediately follows it, and more likely will be the subsequent ACTION. It is physiologically impossible for the mind to produce a positive THOUGHT, immediately followed by a negative FEELING and vice versa. In short, you cannot THINK good about anything/anybody and as a consequence, then immediately FEEL bad about what you initially thought good.

It is important to know what type a person is whenever one is in the process of offering them advice or a solution. A THINKING person will philosophically be more willing to accept both your advice and method of resolution if you describe your advice in THINKING terms and offer them THINKING procedures to resolve their problem. Likewise, a FEELING person will always respond to advice couched in FEELING terms and are more likely to follow the suggestion of FEELING ways to resolve their problem. Lastly, the third type of person requires DOING methods (task orientated) to resolve their problem: ie telling them that they will be much happier with their life and find it more bearable if they start going out more and DOING this or that.

Should any of the three above types not receive acceptable advice and help with their problem behaviour, THINKING, FEELING and DOING imbalance will occur. The THINKING person will probably be referred to a psychiatrist for help, the FEELING person to a therapist or emotional counsellor, and the DOING person to some form of group which provides the opportunity for re-balancing their THINKING, FEELING and DOING through group exercise participation.

The sooner we can learn to trust the vibes we get and start to work with the forces that surround us and the knowledge at our disposal, the quicker our confidence and self assurance will grow and the better person we shall become; the person we were meant to be. Good health and happiness are the closest of friends and usually stick together throughout life. Energy doesn't lie, and both its presence or absence are reliable indicators of the state of our overall health. When we come to respect our own body it will serve us more honestly. We will be able to read its needs more accurately and attend to all its wants; ensuring we will live less stressfully, more healthily and ever longer.

I know not how much longer I have to live anymore than any of you, but what I do know with every breath of my being, is that holding the above positive views will enable me to live longer than I otherwise would have done. I also strongly believe that if history has taught mankind anything worthy, it is that in the end, goodness shall prevail and overcome. I once heard a tale where life asked death, 'Why do people love me, but hate you?' Death responded, 'Because you are a beautiful lie and I am an ugly and painful truth!'

So please, always remain positive and hopeful in your fellow being and in all the things you say and do. Always remember that the death of a dream, the death of a cause is only the end if you assume that the story is about you alone.

I will end this post with a quotation from the Greek scholar and philosopher, Epicurus, who deals with the three big subjects of fear, death and self within mankind's overall experiences and existence: 'Why should I fear death? If I am, death is not. If death is, I am not. Why should I fear that which cannot exist when I do?' " William Forde: July 14th, 2016.

July 13th, 2016

13/7/2016

Thought for today:
"We all get tired every now and then with the chores of life, but unless we have the money to pay house maids and servants, the only way that one's house will be cleaned, the washing and ironing done and the family fed is invariably for someone in the family to knuckle down and do it. Unfortunately for many families during the past thousand years and even today, it is often the woman of the house upon whom the heaviest burden falls.

In years gone by, many Christians were brought up with the belief that there was no sanctification without sweat and most Victorians believed that the devil finds work for idle hands. It was generally accepted that contentment is the accumulation of a good day's work and a job well done. One of the few pieces of advice I can remember my dad giving me was, 'Billy, there is no work that is below a man's dignity. Whatever work you do, do it well and you will feel better for it at the end of the day.'

I grew up the eldest of seven children in a household poor in material wealth, but rich in emotional abundance and family love. In the whole of my parent's life, I can never recall either mum or dad sitting down in a chair doing nothing but relax until all of the children had grown up and left home. I recall my father working long hours in both the mines and the foundry. Often in his mid life years, he would come home so tired that after washing and having something modest to eat, he would go to bed early to rest up for tomorrow's work. As he slept, my mother would still be doing the washing, ironing and darning and preparing for the next day before she retired for the night. Seeing her tired, I would frequently urge her that she'd done enough for one day and remind her she would be up and at it again in another six hours. One of her sayings was, 'Billy, if it wasn't for the last minute, nothing would ever get done.'

This was the time of day, between 8pm and midnight, when I did the most talking and laughing with mum. These were some of my most treasured moments with her, but it often pained me to see her physically struggle to be both wife and mother to seven children. Coming from a large family, food largely consisted of bread and jam, potatoes, then more potatoes, and if we were still hungry they'd always be a few more potatoes to eat. Doing the shopping from the grocer, Harry Hodgson, was my daily task and I recall that we would buy dozens of loaves of bread and stones of potatoes weekly as the mainstay of the family food intake. I wasn't surprised to learn therefore, that during the Potato Famine of 1845, that over one million of my Irish comrades died when there were no spuds to eat!

Like many folk born during the Second World War years, hard work was simply a natural way of life. Even as a child growing up, if you wanted to to contribute to your family, you worked hard. If you wanted to save up to get married you worked harder and worked extra hours overtime; and when you got married and had children of your own, you then worked harder still until they were all reared, schooled and had flown the nest.

The strangest of things though was that few moaned and complained about their lot in life; they simply made the most of it, considered themselves lucky they could work at all and got on with it! All of my life I have carried this working ethos with me that I grew up with.

Between getting my first job at the age of 15 years and the age of 45 years, I never had one day off work due to illness; a record of which I was naturally proud. Even when I fell and broke an arm, after getting the limb placed in a plaster of paris cast, I still returned to work to complete the remaining five hours work of my shift.

One morning during my 45th year of life, despite coming down with a very bad cold and feeling under the weather, I still went into work as normal. My duty that morning involved visited a South Yorkshire Prison in my capacity as a Probation Officer, to do a report on an inmate there. As I queued at the gate to gain admission, the prison guard remarked that I had a nasty cough. I responded by proudly boasting that during my thirty years of work to press, I'd never once had a day off, even when I was feeling ill. Instead of receiving a pat on the back that I expected from the guard, he just looked at me and replied, 'Silly pillock!'

As I left the prison later that morning, I thought hard upon the prison guard's response. By the time I got back to the Probation Office in Huddersfield, I'd concluded that the guard had probably been correct in his observation of my work record. I immediately went home ill in the afternoon and during my remaining seven years of work with the Probation Service, on those few days that I was genuinely ill, I abandoned my road to martyrdom and took time off work.

By the time I had retired early on ill-health grounds at the age of 52 years, the world of work and the employee's attitude to it had greatly changed. That was twenty years ago, during which time the attitude towards work has continued to change so much that my parents would turn in their graves to learn of it. I am glad that my parents never learned that so many able-bodied British people today, refuse to undertake certain work that they consider beneath them, yet still object to migrants who are prepared to do such work instead. I am also pleased that they are not around to discover that many able-bodied of the unemployed refuse to work in any job which paid less than the larger amount of benefits they weekly receive. At times such as these, I am glad that my parents are not around to see how large parts of society perceive their responsibility towards employment.

I know that my parent's attitude towards work that they and their generation instilled in mine has served me well for most of my life. I cannot believe though that today's attitude towards work is something that is worthy of passing on to the children of tomorrow. Until the day I breathe my last, I'll continue to believe that a fallow field is wasteful and that a half finished job a sin.

All one has to do is to watch a happy worker toil at their labour and witness love made visible." William Forde: July 13th, 2016.

July 12th, 2016

12/7/2016

The higher one rises in life, the greater the fall. The difficulty of reaching the top is that once there, the only way to go is down. We often hear about people who lose everything as the result of an economic crisis in their lives. The pattern is invariably similar; loss of job, followed by mounting bills, bankruptcy, home repossession and often marriage breakup. When we hear of such tragedy, we naturally sympathise with their plight. Our charitable feelings however, only seems to extend to the more common man and woman who we are more likely to meet on the street.

What about the man or woman who is the head of a large commercial business, the chief executive of a corporate industry, a high flying city banker, or someone who built up a multi-million pound business only to see it disappear overnight? What about such corporate moguls who one day are riding the crest of the economic wave and the next are drowning in the deepest of waters? Is not their loss as great as the loss felt by the man who rides the Clapham bus to work daily? Are they not also deserving of your sympathy or do you regard them as having been the undeserving rich? Is not the shock and experience of penury not as painful for them as it is for you or me? Unfortunately, hearing such stories often has a capacity for producing the instinctive reaction of 'serves you right' and 'welcome to my world' by those folk who never reached the top and always held a deepening resentment for anyone who did.

For twenty-three years between 1972 and 1995, I ran hundreds of groups for offenders, non-offenders, addicts, non-assertives, aggressives and people who displayed impulsive behaviour of a problematic kind. These groups had anonymous membership and the type and status of person one happened to be wasn't known to other group members. These groups produced some of the highest success rates in outcome within Great Britain and despite having a six-month's membership of over thirty people in each group, they were often oversubscribed by a ratio of 4-1.

Consequently, unlike many of my Probation colleagues who also ran groups of between 6-12 members and invariably had to scratch around often to fill them, I could be choosy who I worked with and had as members of my groups.

I have always known that what people cannot have they want even more. Hence, I was able to make membership of my groups as exclusive as I needed them to be. I also believe that people seeking help are more prone to work towards receiving it when it neither comes easy or free, and that the greater the personal investment in the treatment process, the more likely the successful outcome!

I therefore established 'an individual contract' with each person I accepted for group membership that varied in accordance with their type of circumstances, character and presenting problem. The poorest members who daily lived from hand to mouth were the only group members who were expected to pay a nominal fee that was given to charity, whilst the price extracted from the wealthiest group members was what they most valued; their time. Each week they had to give two hours of their time to some charitable cause or organisation before obtaining two hours of my time in a group session! Sometimes people who had fallen out with a family member and hadn't seen them for years were asked to renew contact before joining my group, while abused women were asked to leave their partners before their membership was accepted. All tense people who'd been taking tranquillisers for many years were expected to get off them first with the aid of their doctors before I could teach them to relax.

I found that by making such contractual commitments in advance, the people who then went on to become group members demonstrated a real need to change and were prepared to do whatever was needed to bring such change about. In such manner, most group members who lasted the six-month course found themselves being able to climb their mountain of fear and look out at their world anew.

The purpose of this post is not to big myself up as a former worker of great skikll, but instead to impress on other workers and carers that people have an inner strength to draw upon which they rarely call out. They also have a tremendous capacity to face and deal with all manner of loss, pain and hurt, once they discover the power of self love and the love of others. In fact, there is nothing in this world or one's life which cannot be borne and overcome through self belief and the power of love." William Forde: July 12th, 2016.

July 19th, 2016.

11/7/2016

Thought for today:
"I have always had a deep liking and respect for the original natives of America; those brave indians of the plains who neither wasted nor wanted before their lands and ways were stolen from them by the new American settlers and pioneers. It was not coincidental that they were called braves, given their abundance of courage in their battles and fights with the American soldiers to remain close to nature and their homeland.

War is an unmitigated evil, but it brings bravery to the surface. My love of history and reading into the Second World War taught me many things about the numerous acts of courage and suffering that both soldier and civillian endured.

The angels of the night who went out to rescue the dying and injured amid the constant bombing of their towns and cities during the Blitz taught me that courage is simply the willingness to be afraid yet act anyway.People who lived through the war years had to exist with the uncertainty of 'not knowing' from one day to the next; not knowing whether they would live or die, or if they would ever see their soldier husbands and sons again. The bravery of such people taught me that anyone can die, but it requires far more courage to to live on and suffer.

Whenever people with life threatening complaints and terminal illnesses are forced to face their future in great pain, the greatest courage they are capable of displaying is to carry on. Sometimes, even to continue living takes a degree of bravery to face the uncertain nature of the future! Indeed, if my own terminal illness has taught me anything lasting, it is that courage requires not the absence of fear, but one's triumph over it. The brave person will always be afraid, but learns to conquer their fear of the future.They know they are not perfect and never have been, and are therefore prepared to die with a few scars.

My knowledge of the world's greatest explorers taught me that though their fear was often used to keep them from danger, it was their bravery and unstinting courage which supported their actions. The early climbers of the world's highest mountains, the antartic explorers whose clothing protection against the bitter cold and frost bites of the North Pole was no warmer than the winter clothes we wear today walking the highstreet, the Marco Polos of the world who travelled uncharted waters; all knew that their dreams could only come true if they persisted in the courage to persue it. Marco Polo knew that only the willingness to leave shore would provide one with the necessary courage to cross oceans of danger and great uncertainty. My history interests essentially taught me that venture and exploration invites courage to show itself at every dangerous opportunity.

One of the most threatening acts that the very young sometimes face is the act of being bullied, a practice far more common in our schools today than headteachers will often own up to. In the final analysis, the bullied needs courage to stand up to the bully, however many times they are knocked down, and the audience observing this spineless behaviour needs to be brave enough to speak out against such action so that someone will put a stop to it. Those who stand idly by because their head tells them not to get involved will never amount to anything more than heroes with the feet of clay. Just because they aren't the ones doing the hitting, doesn't make their inaction any less hurtful in such circumstances. Just because they choose not to speak out about it, merely shouts from the rooftops that they are complicit in it.

Finally, we live in a world of much uncertainty today where evil is done by man to man with less impunity than was ever previously witnessed throughout history. We live in a world where destitution, homelessness, statelessness, starvation, genocide and all manner of cruelty and barbarity are tolerated. Living far away from such human disaster should not prevent us feeling another's pain or speaking up on the behalf of those who have neither the will or voice to speak out for themselves. Never before has the need existed to speak out loud and clear about such wrongs and do all within our power to mitigate such suffering.

John Calvin,an influential French theologian and pastor during the Protestant Reformation once remarked, 'A dog barks when its master is attacked. I would be a coward if I saw that God's truth is attacked and yet remained silent.'

Irrespective as to whether or not you believe in God, the quotation remains just as relevant if you exchange the words 'God's truth' for 'goodness and truth.' We live in times when not being prepared to speak out has become more dangerous and unsettling than saying it as it is, loud and clear." William Forde: July 19th, 2016.

July 11th, 2016.

11/7/2016

”Thought for today:
"Look at the lofty structure of all there is to see and allow yourself to become an indispensable part of everything you feel, everything you are and all you want to be. You will face life's difficulties like we all are made to face them, knowing that what we sometimes do is wrong, but also in the knowledge that what we more often do is right.

Our very growth of goodness springs forth from loving family, faith in self and neighbours and upright values, and is reflected in our inner strength to control our basest urge and contain our first negative thought about another; for after control and containment, the seeds of compassion take root in our most fertile soil and the path to eternal concern and consideration is paved out for the mere walking of it.

The best lessons I have learned in my lifetime have been the ones I have lived. In my earlier years of impatience and indulgence, my attempt to find the truth did but scratch the surface, whereas my maturer actions of more seasoned years enabled me to strike at the very soul that is lost, yet seeks clearer direction. I know that it does become possible to retrieve the reins of salvation from the jaws of hell and to move back from the precipice of human destruction, for I have on occasion looked into it and recoiled at what I saw. I have witnessed many vunerable others stare at the abyss before plunging themselves into it, into a pit of melancholy, lifelong misery, despair and depression.

I know that in my past profession as a Probation Officer, my ability to help others stemmed from having lived a life of good and bad, from having failed and succeeded, from having sinned and repented, but never from having put myself down, given up and thrown in the towel. Had I been endowed with only unblemished and wholesome experiences to call upon, I would never have got passed the front door in some of the houses I daily visited. They would have seen me for the well-intentioned 'do gooder' I never wanted to be. No, it was only my flawed character, my questionable lifestyle and my roots that stretched from hell to heaven that gained me entry into their houses and enabled them to trust my word and advice and see me as 'friend.' I was able to work well with offenders because I too had offended in my past and thereby recognised them as being 'my people'. I was eternally blessed with being able to see past their crime that brought them to me, and see the untapped goodness within the individual that remained and sense the nature of the dreams they never dreamed.

From what I had to offer, I know that when I best succeeded, I had managed to give out sufficient hope and inspiration and a strong encouragement for a belief in self. My relaxation classes of twenty-four weeks' duration taught them that we are all best content with our own company when we are most happy with self. My final group session always acquainted them with that wonderful quotation by the French philosopher, playwright and novelist, John Paul Sartre, 'If you are lonely when you’re alone, you are in bad company.'" William Forde: July 11th, 2016.

July 10th, 2016.

10/7/2016

,Thought for today:
"Don't pester me when I'm thinking hard, Buster. I'm just wondering why Molly Masham played out with Terry Baker instead of me today. I'm just trying to work out if I've been dumped? Isn't it a funny old world, Buster, where girls break boy's hearts just as easy as snapping a twig as they trample all over our dreams! You share your own special song with them and then they go and spoil the arrangement. When you're happy and deeply in love, you enjoy the music, but when you're sad and have been dumped, only then do you begin to understand the lyrics. I'll never be happy again, Buster, and I'll never be able to hear that song again without feeling sad. My heart has been broken forever! Life holds no more for me and will never be the same!

Never mind, let's call to Lucy Brown's house and see if she wants to play out. Lucy knows how to blow gum and make it pop and she's a lot prettier than two-timing Molly Masham. Yes! Lucy's the girl for me, Buster! Let's ask Lucy to play out." William Forde: July 10th, 2016.

July 9th, 2016.

9/7/2016

Thought for today:
"Behold, the lady of my life, my dearest and most faithful companion; the one whose walk sets my soul alight to hear her approach. The days we spend walking the moors will never be forgotten! The nights we share in front of the fire, content in the knowledge that we truly love each other in equal measure will be fond memories of my middle years.

Each night as I sleep, you guard my bed and protect me. When morning arrives, you always awake first. As I sleep in my bed, you nuzzle me into gradual alertness, licking my face until my eyes open and I acknowledge your presence in my life. Then while I dress, you impatiently walk around the room with a bounce in your stride, eager to start a new day. As you descend the steps before me, I can sense the anticipation of your morning walk as your wagging tail signals my next delight of the day when I follow you down the stairs and towards the front door.

After our morning walk, your mind quickly turns to breakfast in your bowl and all manner of doggy treats which can be purchased by that special look that you know is capable of breaking my heart if your desire is withheld. If only mankind could bottle such a look, never again would he be found wanting of any earthly pleasure by any lady in waiting." William Forde: July 9th, 2016.

July 8th, 2016.

8/7/2016

Thought for today:
"Once you open your hands and allow your peace to welcome all, you will never again close off your heart to any of mankind's concerns nor fail to hold anything so precious as life itself. When you open your heart and let all enter, eternal peace will reside within you and guide your every action like a guardian angel.

We never know for sure when we are visited by an angel who carries our conscience. When angels visit us, we hear not their rustle of wings, neither feel their feathery touch nor observe their landing, but we know of their presence by the love they create in our lives. They help us to find peace within ourselves in the sure knowledge that when we do, we become the type of person who more easily lives at peace with all others. Angels teach us the power of prayer; when we badly need something and know not whom to turn to. Far better than a thousand angry words is the one that speaks of peace. Far better than any other gesture is the one that offers peace.

Today, we live in a world of conflict and uncertainty, that often it becomes hard to know who are our enemies and who are our friends; the war in Syria being a perfect example, along with the former war in Afghanistan and Iraq. Our duty towards our country and natural allies will sometimes mean that we reluctantly take up arms in what might seem a questionable cause in parts of the world we do not truly understand.

The long awaited recent publishing of the Chilcot Report clearly shows that it was not necessary to invade Iraq in 2003 with the USA-led coalition and that the Government of Great Britain was wrong to have sanctioned this war when influenced by inaccurate information to do so, which was presented to Parliament by the then Prime Minister, Tony Blair. We all know now that the world was not made a safer place through this action that toppled Saddam Hussein from power and that this avoidable conflict merely opened up new conflicts, which have since made world a more dangerous place.

I don't know the outcome to the Syrian conflict or how long the battle between numerous combatants will rage, but I do believe that in order to remain a friend to ourselves and the rest of humanity, we should never make an enemy of any future prospect of peace when it shows its face, but instead open up our hands and welcome it." William Forde: July 8th, 2016.