FordeFables
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    • Strictly for Adults Novels >
      • Rebecca's Revenge
      • Come Back Peter
    • Tales from Portlaw >
      • No Need to Look for Love
      • 'The Love Quartet' >
        • The Tannery Wager
        • 'Fini and Archie'
        • 'The Love Bridge'
        • 'Forgotten Love'
      • The Priest's Calling Card >
        • Chapter One - The Irish Custom
        • Chapter Two - Patrick Duffy's Family Background
        • Chapter Three - Patrick Duffy Junior's Vocation to Priesthood
        • Chapter Four - The first years of the priesthood
        • Chapter Five - Father Patrick Duffy in Seattle
        • Chapter Six - Father Patrick Duffy, Portlaw Priest
        • Chapter Seven - Patrick Duffy Priest Power
        • Chapter Eight - Patrick Duffy Groundless Gossip
        • Chapter Nine - Monsignor Duffy of Portlaw
        • Chapter Ten - The Portlaw Inheritance of Patrick Duffy
      • Bigger and Better >
        • Chapter One - The Portlaw Runt
        • Chapter Two - Tony Arrives in California
        • Chapter Three - Tony's Life in San Francisco
        • Chapter Four - Tony and Mary
        • Chapter Five - The Portlaw Secret
      • The Oldest Woman in the World >
        • Chapter One - The Early Life of Sean Thornton
        • Chapter Two - Reporter to Investigator
        • Chapter Three - Search for the Oldest Person Alive
        • Chapter Four - Sean Thornton marries Sheila
        • Chapter Five - Discoveries of Widow Friggs' Past
        • Chapter Six - Facts and Truth are Not Always the Same
      • Sean and Sarah >
        • Chapter 1 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
        • Chapter 2 - 'The early years of sweet innocence in Portlaw'
        • Chapter 3 - 'The Separation'
        • Chapter 4 - 'Separation and Betrayal'
        • Chapter 5 - 'Portlaw to Manchester'
        • Chapter 6 - 'Salford Choices'
        • Chapter 7 - 'Life inside Prison'
        • Chapter 8 - 'The Aylesbury Pilgrimage'
        • Chapter 9 - Sean's interest in stone masonary'
        • Chapter 10 - 'Sean's and Tony's Partnership'
        • Chapter 11 - 'Return of the Prodigal Son'
      • The Alternative Christmas Party >
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
      • The Life of Liam Lafferty >
        • Chapter One: ' Liam Lafferty is born'
        • Chapter Two : 'The Baptism of Liam Lafferty'
        • Chapter Three: 'The early years of Liam Lafferty'
        • Chapter Four : Early Manhood
        • Chapter Five : Ned's Secret Past
        • Chapter Six : Courtship and Marriage
        • Chapter Seven : Liam and Trish marry
        • Chapter Eight : Farley meets Ned
        • Chapter Nine : 'Ned comes clean to Farley'
        • Chapter Ten : Tragedy hits the family
        • Chapter Eleven : The future is brighter
      • The life and times of Joe Walsh >
        • Chapter One : 'The marriage of Margaret Mawd and Thomas Walsh’
        • Chapter Two 'The birth of Joe Walsh'
        • Chapter Three 'Marriage breakup and betrayal'
        • Chapter Four: ' The Walsh family breakup'
        • Chapter Five : ' Liverpool Lodgings'
        • Chapter Six: ' Settled times are established and tested'
        • Chapter Seven : 'Haworth is heaven is a place on earth'
        • Chapter Eight: 'Coming out'
        • Chapter Nine: Portlaw revenge
        • Chapter Ten: ' The murder trial of Paddy Groggy'
        • Chapter Eleven: 'New beginnings'
      • The Woman Who Hated Christmas >
        • Chapter One: 'The Christmas Enigma'
        • Chapter Two: ' The Breakup of Beth's Family''
        • Chapter Three: From Teenager to Adulthood.'
        • Chapter Four: 'The Mills of West Yorkshire.'
        • Chapter Five: 'Harrison Garner Showdown.'
        • Chapter Six : 'The Christmas Dance'
        • Chapter Seven : 'The ballot for Shop Steward.'
        • Chapter Eight: ' Leaving the Mill'
        • Chapter Ten: ' Beth buries her Ghosts'
        • Chapter Eleven: Beth and Dermot start off married life in Galway.
        • Chapter Twelve: The Twin Tragedy of Christmas, 1992.'
        • Chapter Thirteen: 'The Christmas star returns'
        • Chapter Fourteen: ' Beth's future in Portlaw'
      • The Last Dance >
        • Chapter One - ‘Nancy Swales becomes the Widow Swales’
        • Chapter Two ‘The secret night life of Widow Swales’
        • Chapter Three ‘Meeting Richard again’
        • Chapter Four ‘Clancy’s Ballroom: March 1961’
        • Chapter Five ‘The All Ireland Dancing Rounds’
        • Chapter Six ‘James Mountford’
        • Chapter Seven ‘The All Ireland Ballroom Latin American Dance Final.’
        • Chapter Eight ‘The Final Arrives’
        • Chapter Nine: 'Beth in Manchester.'
      • 'Two Sisters' >
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
        • Chapter Nine
        • Chapter Ten
        • Chapter Eleven
        • Chapter Twelve
        • Chapter Thirteen
        • Chapter Fourteen
        • Chapter Fifteen
        • Chapter Sixteen
        • Chapter Seventeen
      • Fourteen Days >
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
        • Chapter Nine
        • Chapter Ten
        • Chapter Eleven
        • Chapter Twelve
        • Chapter Thirteen
        • Chapter Fourteen
      • ‘The Postman Always Knocks Twice’ >
        • Author's Foreword
        • Contents
        • Chapter One
        • Chapter Two
        • Chapter Three
        • Chapter Four
        • Chapter Five
        • Chapter Six
        • Chapter Seven
        • Chapter Eight
        • Chapter Nine
        • Chapter Ten
        • Chapter Eleven
        • Chapter Twelve
        • Chapter Thirteen
        • Chapter Fourteen
        • Chapter Fifteen
        • Chapter Sixteen
        • Chapter Seventeen
        • Chapter Eighteen
        • Chapter Nineteen
        • Chapter Twenty
        • Chapter Twenty-One
        • Chapter Twenty-Two
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August 31st, 2017

31/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"As I lay in bed this morning listening to Radio 5, a news item mentioned the growing addiction to the use of credit cards and the mounting of debt one can easily accrue when our addiction to spending gets out of control. The more I listened and the things I heard, I gradually started to think, 'How foolish can one be? They must have been blind not to see the danger signs before things got out of hand!'

My mind stayed on this topic over breakfast and when I came to write my morning post, the subject seemed predestined; the addictions we all hold to this or that!

There is a common tendency when one thinks about 'addiction' to focus on the hard stuff like crack cocaine, chronic alcoholism or chain smoking etc. etc. without ever considering the type, nature, and extent of our own particular brand of addiction.

Addiction is a natural part of human behaviour that we all lend ourselves to. Like neurosis, we are all neurotic to some extent and in order to survive, we learn to adapt and substitute bad neurosis with a more socially acceptable form of neurosis. Similarly, we break one addiction by substituting it with a different type of addiction. Just as some overweight people and large food eaters who seek to change will become fanatical 'keep fit' addicts or start running ever greater distances each day of the week when the rest of the world is fast asleep, so people who have smoked heavily for sixty years and suddenly give up often become addicted to eating pounds of sweets and indulging in other comfort fatty foods instead!

It helps if we each accept that to be able to control, break, change or maintain our personal addictions, it is necessary to accept that we are each addictive to some behaviour or thing and also understand what it is that drives 'addiction' in general. Initially, addiction is maintained by pleasure, but the intensity of the pleasure soon diminishes and then the addiction is maintained by the avoidance of pain.

Of all the things my mother taught me through example as a young child, the very worse of her habits that I picked up at the age of ten years was to smoke a few cigarettes daily. Gradually, my habit turned into an addiction which became so strong that I was 62 years old before I stopped smoking at the third attempt. Even two successive heart attacks in two weeks at the age of 59; the latter which witnessed my heart stopped for a few minutes, didn't frighten me enough to give up smoking cigarettes for another two years! For decades I had kidded myself that I could control my behaviour if I really set my mind to it but like the confirmed alcoholic and hard drug addict, I finally needed to acknowledge that I couldn't break my addiction to smoking cigarettes without structured help and support.

My starting ground was to accept that I was addicted to smoking tobacco and that the best I could achieve was that I'd always be a tobacco addict who had stopped smoking. I also needed to acknowledge that my addiction, like all other substance or behavioural addiction had no moral superiority. I acknowledged that I was no better or worse than the food, drugs, gambling, pill popping, sex, collecting, television, mobile phone, computer, wife beater or credit card spender addict! Like them, we addicts were all trapped in a world of illusion, procrastination, and paralysis, with feelings never rooted in reality. We are all alike in major ways. Like rats in a maze, we want the same thing; instant reward, immediate gratification, and permanent relief, but it's a trap to believe it is beneficial.

In many ways, all addiction is an adaption from reality to a make-believe world of temporary relief. It is not you. It is the stupid part of us in control; not the smart self. I once read somewhere that we learn best when things go wrong, not to go with them. Most addiction is like a rotten tree that branches out; its negative impact touches everyone in your life. Addiction is a screwed up relationship. It is a pathological obsession that replaces people, an unforgiving force that fills one with emptiness and drives a moderate want into an entrenched need.

'I wanted a drink. There were a hundred reasons why a person will want a drink, but I wanted one for the most elementary reason of all; I needed one! I didn't want my body to be where my mind was! I didn't want to feel what I was feeling and a voice within was telling me I needed a drink and that I couldn't bear it without one. It was telling me that if I did not buy that item now at its reduced cost, it will not be there to buy when I returned to the shop.' These are things that many addicts tell themselves to explain away their irrational behaviour.

But beware; that inner voice is a liar; it is the voice of addiction. It is telling you that without it you will not be able to bear the pain. Well let me tell you, one can always bear the pain; one may not like it, need it, or want it, but until you are dead and buried, pain can be borne. Even when one is crying out, 'I can't bear it! I can't bear it! Even then, at its worse, the one thing you are demonstrably doing is 'bearing it!' As long as we choose the pain over the relief; we can stand it; we can keep going.

There lies behind every addiction an illogical reasoning and irrational belief that life can stand still. It can't; it either gets better or worse, but never stays the same. The most logical belief that all addicts can tell themselves is that, 'If I can quit for one day, I can quit for a lifetime, but it won't be easy, and that whether I tell myself I can or I cannot, will be true for me.' They have to start believing that while some indulgence isn't wrong, that an overindulgence of anything, even something as pure as water can intoxicate the senses.

From all the different kinds of addicts I have come across, the greatest inner drive of nearly all who have felt lost is the eventual location of one's heart. I have found that it only after they have learned how to feel good enough about themselves again that they can regain the strength to achieve and maintain positive changes in their behaviour. I have also learned that many addicts know no shame and that having disgraced themselves enough times, they seem to have become immune to it.

Giving up this or that often involves a sacrifice that enables one to live with the pain inside their head and the emptiness inside their heart until the wind of change gets behind you. Breaking one's addiction 'cold turkey' while extremely hard isn't impossible. When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the aeroplane takes off against the wind; not with it.

My work as a group worker over thirty years dealing with addictive and impulsive behaviour led me to recognise that often a person's addiction can represent their behaviour to mask and conceal not dealing with more basic truths in their life. As an old teacher of mine frequently quoted whenever he caught any boy smoking on school ground, 'You may get the monkey off your back, but until you break your addiction the circus never leaves town.Give it up, Boy! Give it up now!'

As a Christian, I am aware of the addictive nature of religion in some of our lives. Like W.h.Auden wrote, 'I sometimes see sin as being addictive, with the terminal point of that addiction being nothing less than damnation.' What I do believe, especially when I look back over some of my own life is that sometimes we only find our Heaven of a peace on earth by backing away from the Hell of all addictions. " William Forde: August 30th, 2017.

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August 31st, 2017

31/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"I am often asked, 'Bill, how can an intelligent man like yourself really believe in the existence of God, especially one who allows such hurt and harm to visit innocents?' I do not fully know the answers to such questions, but what I do believe is that there is both a reason and a purpose for the presence of this earth and the existence of mankind.

I do not consider it foolish to think that all this rare fabric of our world could ever have come about by chance collision? There is a purpose in the earth that only heaven sees; there a poetry in existence which only peace can ever know, a spiritual presence that only the soul can sense. There is a reason for every man and woman; to find the love in your heart and express it and to never blind oneself to the love in the hearts of others.

I know that many people find it hard to believe in God, and no doubt thinks it foolish for others to place their faith in a supreme being that is never seen, but He is said by believers to be present in all places. What I believe is this; if you are a true believer of life, you will live, and if you are a true lover of mankind, you will love. What I know is when we lose ourselves in nature we find peace and when we lose ourselves in prayer, we find God. Lose yourself in both, however, and you will find both purpose and self! I believe that to love Nature is to love God. I believe that God is a part of each man and woman's nature and I believe that Nature is God.

Science tells us that the Earth is 4.5 billion years old, whereas the bible will indicate 6,000 years only. Science claims that all life began with a big bang whereas followers of Genesis believe that God made the heavens and earth in six days. As time itself is 'infinite' by its very nature and is defined by the interpretation of mankind, there is nothing which makes either claim incompatible with the truth.

I believe that in the beginning, God made the heavens and earth. He placed animals on the earth, fish in the seas, birds in the skies and then filled it with all manner of plant life and vegetation. When He had done all this, He then made mankind; His most wonderful creation of all. When all this was created, He placed the world on an axis of love and set it spinning in perfect motion.

You are the perfect embodiment of God's love, and it is you who keeps life turning. The Lord made the earth, He placed it on an axis of love and set it spinning, but it is only through the love of one person expressed towards another that keeps it turning! Never doubt that Love truly makes the world go around.

The next time you tread upon a blade of grass, know that it required as much creative effort to make that as it did a galaxy of stars. Avoid stepping on the belief of others. Do not become a stamper of graves or a crusher of dreams. In an often cold and cruel world of stark reality, it is far worse a purpose to become a belief breaker as opposed to a hope maker; especially where love is increasingly lacking and the axis of humanity has slowed down and is in danger of halting.

I find that once you find self-love, it is easier to find the love in others and it becomes possible to find God." William Forde: August 31st, 2017.

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August 29th, 2017.

29/8/2017

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"Thought for today:
​"Often when I make reference to one of the books I have had published, I may come across as promoting the sale of my own works for the sake of profit or image. In both instances, neither is the case. Firstly, I make no profit from the sale of my sixty-six published books, never have and never will. All profit from their sales has always been given to charitable causes and this will to continue when I am no longer here, under the guidance and administration of my wife Sheila.While having raised over £200,000 of profit for charitable causes from my book sales between 1990-2005, all profits since have gone into the provision of free books to children in their churches, communities, and schools.

As to the promotion of a more favourable or famous image, I long ago stopped thinking and worrying about how others saw me and what precisely they thought of me. My behavioural instincts have, over the years, led me to work actively towards changing some of my more unpalatable behaviours. Being filled with lots of self-pride for much of my first forty years of life, I needed to actively work upon becoming more humble during the past thirty years. I found this change particularly hard to bring about and I am still very much 'a work in progress.'

During my earlier years, I always wanted/needed to be considered 'the first' or 'the best' among many and would never settle for 'second best.' Often, when I found that I wasn't the best at this or that, I simply withdrew from the race. I recall going to Canada at the age of 21 years. I had a very good voice and considered myself to be the best ballad singer in the world; someone who was clearly destined for stardom and international recognition. For the first two months in Canada, I sang for a living and it was only when I discovered that I wasn't the best singer in the world that I gave up that job and never sang in public again for the next forty years! I needed to relearn the pleasure and satisfaction of 'taking part' again and in particular, I needed to learn how to lose the race without losing face as an individual. Having had a number of 'firsts' in my life such as being the youngest Shop Steward and the youngest Youth Leader in Great Britain at the age of 18 years, alongside being the founder of 'Anger Management' at the age of 31 years, I found it very hard to become and be seen as an 'also ran' in any race I entered thereafter!

When I first married in 1968, we each had a few thousand pounds inheritance that was sufficient to almost buy a brand new £4,000 three bedroomed detached house outright. I had compensation from a traffic accident I'd incurred at the age of 11 years and my wife had compensation from the industrial death of her father from cancer of the lungs. We each had well-paid professional jobs, along with good prospects and a life style that would have been the envy of most newly weds. In 1968, life seemed so sweet and reassuring and materialism was so easy to acclimatise to.

Over the years that followed, I needed to learn how to 'give away' a lot of the material things I'd acquired and in particular, I needed to learn how not to need them. I learned that a man who has no need of material wealth is a man who cannot be bought or have his opinion paid for or swayed and his word disrespected.

Between 1990 and 2000, my reputation as a children's writer would guarantee me being featured in the West Yorkshire newspapers almost nightly. This was during a period when 860 famous people and celebrities publicly read from my books regularly in assemblies within West Yorkshire schools and I was frequently invited to take part in radio interviews and also a few local television spots. My reputation had been rapidly enhanced after the late Princess Diana asked for two of my books to be sent to her to read to her then 7 and 9-year old sons, Princes William and Harry at their bedtimes, and then Nelson Mandela personally phoned me to praise an African Story book I'd written and he'd read. Further work with the Jamaican Minister for Education and Youth Culture, along with a trans-Atlantic pen-pal project I established between 32 schools in Falmouth, Jamaica and 32 schools in West Yorkhire, witnessed me receiving some international acclaim, along with a medal from Queen Elizabeth for my services.

Since 2005, I have deliberately made it a policy to give no more press or media interviews, and with the exception of three occasions, I have kept my name out of the press and have once more become a non-public figure.

​To return to where I started, any references I make to my published books or achievements in my posts these days is to relate to my experiences during my life and wherever possible to identify my faults as well as my strengths. And while I will often refer to some more 'publicly notable' aspect of my background experience, believe me when I tell, you that I currently derive the greatest of my pleasures from the most 'ordinary of people and the simplest of experiences.'

Since my most recent course of chemotherapy treatment to stabilise my cancer condition, I have felt better than I have for the past two years. Indeed, over the past two months, I have taken advantage of any fine weather we have had and have spent a few hours daily up at our allotment in Haworth with my wife, Sheila. It has been the greatest of pleasures to have been well enough to enjoy the fresh air in abundance once more without being in crowds and risking renewed infection due to all absence of my immune system.We were at the allotments the day we returned from our holiday in Cornwall and were up there again yesterday and plan to be there tomorrow, weather permitting.

From all of the books I have ever had published, my favourite book I've written for adult readership is 'Tales from the Allotment'. This book is written as a tribute to all miners of the past who found themselves unemployed and their communities shattered when the pits closed down. My deceased father was a miner for many years and the book is in memory of him. In my novel, after the redundant miners could find no future work, they first became depressed and started to believe their future lives held no happiness or meaning, until they began engaging their daily hours at their allotments, where they found purpose once more that made good use of their previous life experiences.

​From all the books I have read, my favourite author was Thomas Hardy. What I most liked about Hardy was how he made all his book characters in a story significant in their own right and stand out in one's memory as somebody not to be forgotten. We all matter in life whichever side of the blankets we were born, whatever side of the tracks we were brought up and lived and however highly or lowly we think of ourselves today or are thought of! Thomas Hardy was my favourite writer and 'Tales from the allotment' (available from www.lulu.com or www.amazon.com), is my favourite of all books I've written. If you are to read just one of my books, I would urge you to read 'Tales from the Allotments' which is a Christmas story for any day of the year of one's life." William Forde: August 29th, 2017.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/william-forde/tales-from-the-allotments/paperback/product-22994880.html
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August 28th, 2017

28/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"We have just returned from nine days holiday in Cornwall and had smashing weather and a lovely time. When one is married, they say that holiday periods spent together and festive occasions like Christmas and New Year's Eve are the times that reveal all the cracks in one's marital relationships. It can be very difficult for some marriages to work, however much effort one puts into preserving the relationship, and like leaving a clothing shop with an item either three sizes too small or too large, however hard one tries, one will never comfortably fit into it! I suspect that marriages and all relationships aren't much different. One can start off as friends and then grow to love the other person deeply, but however hard one tries, a size ten woman and a forty-stone man are most unlikely to make natural bedfellows and they invariably find themselves as a couple where their relationship is impossible to grow into. Similarly, being lucky enough to find one's soul mate in your marriage partner is like finding a jumper that is perfect to your size, shape, colour and style in every way, and however old and thread worn it gets over the years of natural wear and tear, it will never be an item for throwing out!


In times when the marriage contract often starts to fade before the ink has dried, how marvellous it is to witness married couples reach their silver and golden wedding anniversaries, loving each other more today than the day they first met. Such loyalty, devotion and dedication towards each other is both rare and enviably and sets an example to the rest of us.


Like many a married person who has loved and married more than once, I also wanted it to be 'forever' when I married, but it wasn't to be so. So I tried a second time, and that marriage, although happy for the most part of its 28 years, still ended before my heart had given up on it. Twice married and twice divorced from two women who no longer wished to remain married, I withdrew from the marital stakes and determined to grow old, a man of single status.


Then, one November day in 2010, I visited Haworth and took a stroll up Main Street. Having been a published author since 1989, loving literature all my life and being an ardent reader of history, visiting the village of the famous Bronte sisters seemed the perfect way for a man of romantic inclination to leisurely spend the afternoon. As I walked up the cobbled street steeped in history, the women that passed down it seemed to get prettier each time one passed by, looked my way and smiled in that coy manner that cannot mask interest. Then, I saw her! She was sitting alone at a corner table in a restaurant called 'Gascoignes' at the top of Main Street; an eating establishment that has recently changed its name to the more industrious title of 'House Steam Brewery.' Without giving my next move a second thought, I found my old legs walking inside 'Gascoignes' and taking up the chair next to the black-haired maiden.


I wasn't aware of it at that precise moment, but once I stopped looking for love, I'd found it once more, in the corner of a Haworth eating establishment.


I knew the first moment I saw Haworth that it was heaven on earth. I knew when I first saw her that she was different to other women, even though I wasn't quite sure at the time that she was the woman for me. Since the moment I first left her that afternoon, my legs and heart longed to return to Haworth for a second glance, and since that second glance, my eyes have remained fixated. It was nothing tangible that I could touch and say, 'That's it! That's the love I seek!' It was more a feeling that told me that all I now saw would be all I ever wanted.


Sheila, I waited for your next spoken word before the sound of your last had left my ears. When you touched my mind, you left an impression to remind me in future years why I fell in love with you. But, it was only when you touched my heart, I knew that I would never forget you. Only through loving you, have I learned what really matters in my life. Indeed, it is only through your love that I can now know a happy selfishness; that nothing else matters except you, me, our happiness and time together and Haworth.


I know that we came to each other late in life and can never hope to make the marital milestones of fifty, nay twenty-five years as man and wife; probably not even ten. It would be wonderful were my health to allow us to reach the ten-year milestone and I know that whilst we may not always see eye to eye on all things small in life, as far as those bigger and more significant issues go, we will never be too distant in thought and will always be of one mind and heart. It was you who taught me that once two people share the same spiritual dimension, their minds, hearts, and souls are forever mated.


The world would be an uglier place without Haworth, and my world would be much uglier without you, Sheila. My love for you is infinite, Sheila Forde; nothing else is worth searching for, and all else is a mere illusion of a cobbled dream." William Forde: August 28th, 2017.
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August 17th, 2017.

17/8/2017

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Thought for today:
​"Good morning everyone. Today is a good day; in fact, it is the best of days. Since my recent chemotherapy treatment ended a few months ago, my condition has stabalised sufficiently to enable me to enjoy those simple things in life like watering my plants, having little walks and spending time in our allotment with Sheila. Over the past week, Sheila and my visiting son, William, have been at our allotments a great deal. They have done the digging, bag carrying, planting and weeding while I have directed their activities. All in all, I'm very pleased with what we've done.

In preparation for a holiday, yesterday I went to the barbers, as my beard and hair had started to grow again since the cancer treatment balded me.Today, we prepare to set off for Cornwall where we will spend a good week there. We intend to break our journey each way with overnight stops in Worcester going and Stratford-upon-Avon on the journey home. We just hope that the weather stays fine. We are both in need of a holiday, especially Sheila, who has had a difficult year with my treatment, hospital visits and the sudden death of her mum.

I won't be doing any posts until the end of August when we return. Until then, stay well, my friends and remember that one of the most satisfying parts of a holiday not only involves you resting, but seeing others busily working. For those of you who are experiencing difficulties of your own at the moment and in much need of added strength and hope, may you be granted God's grace and healing power. You will remain in my prayers and constant thoughts. Back at the end of August. Peace and love. Bill and Sheila xxx" William Forde: August 17th, 2017.
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August 16th, 2017.

16/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"I had a really good sleep last night. When I woke up, the radio was reminding me that Elvis Presley died forty years ago today. I loved his singing, but news of the anniversary of his death, got me thinking about other deaths of people I knew and knew of.

There are many sad stories about people dying, and while every one of them produces grief and loss for those who were closest, the tales that bring instant tears to my eyes are the ones concerning the early demise of young children.

It is hard for any parent to lose a partner, but is harder to lose their child to some fatal illness, accident or incident. As a race, we automatically take for granted that we shall die before our children. To have to bury one's child before they've had any opportunity to taste the world is enough to rock the emotional foundations of any mother or father. The loss of one's child is a terrible place to go. Grieving the loss of a child is an emotional process that begins the day your child dies and ends the day the parents join them. Until that day arrives, a happy memory in quieter moments become the hiding place for unforgotten treasures.

As a probation officer for many years who also did some marriage guidance counselling, I will never forget working with any couple who had suddenly and tragically lost a child. For some, they seem moored in an anchor of solid grief following the death of their child and feel it emotionally impossible to ever set sail again and carry on living a meaningful existence. For others who manage to find their way through this pain barrier, I have learned that not all the scars show, not all the wounds heal and that it is often hard to see the pain that someone truly feels. Once the therapeutic storm is over, many parents don't remember how they made it through and managed to survive. They find it hard to believe that the storm is over. Of one thing that remains constant however in this process is the fact that once the emotional storm is over, they will come out of it a different person to the one who walked in!

I will never forget working with one couple whose marriage was struggling for survival. Prior to the sudden and tragic death of their ten-year-old son, the couple were part of a happy family unit and were planning another child. One day, while out shopping with her son in attendance, the boy suddenly collapsed on the pavement before going into Woolworth's. By the time the ambulance arrived, he had died in his mother's arms with some heart complaint he had carried unknowingly since birth.

Initially, following the death of their only child, the couple went from day-to-day, week-to-week and month-to-month simply taking one breath after another and not worrying about the outside world.The grieving mother went into a deep depression, yet despite all her husband's efforts to lift her out of this sad pit, she stayed depressed for almost three years and withdrew from all interest in her marriage. By the time the couple had come to me, it was at a time when the court's directed all couples seeking divorce to go through a mediation process first. Many couples entered the process genuinely, but others were simply jumping the necessary hoops. Alas. for this couple, too much hurt had passed between them and too many precious memories had been soured by the sad experience of their son's death. After the obligatory sessions of counselling, it was apparent that they considered their marriage to be finally over.

Over the past four years since I've been treated for various cancers, I have come across so many children who have cancer and have witnessed a kind of courage that one would never expect to find in one so young; children who possess and display wisdom beyond their years. I have had to conclude that children possess a coping capacity far in excess of that which any adult can imagine and that those who cope the best are the ones who know that 'death is not the end'. Apart from the obvious reference to a heaven beyond earth, the thing that keeps the child forever alive is the love and the enduring memory of the grieving parents.

There is no footprint too small to leave an imprint on this world, and this applies more to the death of one's child than any other. Every day, medical advances and research bring us closer to a cure for cancer. Presently, statistics show that three out of four children diagnosed with cancer will survive the disease, but that is not good enough. The loss of one child is and will always be, one too many!" William Forde: August 16th, 2017.
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August 15th, 2017.

15/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"While there are some cynics out there who believe that it is easier to push a stubborn jelly up a hill than it is to be happy just by being oneself, I'm not one of them.

Trying to be happy or even trying to have a baby is a bit like trying to be in love; the more one tries, the less likely it is to happen. Such experiences are natural experiences, and as such, any effort is unlikely to bring them about. Ironically, if only people would stop 'trying' to be happy and learn to be content with their natural self, they'd soon discover that they might have a pretty good time.

All of my life, I have, by and large, enjoyed myself as much as the next man or woman. I have invariably found all of my experiences to have been beneficial in some measure. Even the hurtful, unexpected and uninvited ones, I might add, have helped me become a better, more understanding and more contented person.

Many a person does not realise how happy they could have been, had they made a different decision, chosen a different profession to follow or path to travel. Indeed, there are even some who were happy at the time but never appreciated their happiness until it was no longer present. The French novelist, Colette, once remarked, 'What a wonderful life I've had. I only wish I'd realised it sooner.'

We love the things we love for what they are, simply because all men and women are silently drawn to another by the stronger pull of what they truly love.

That's how I know I love my wife, Sheila, because when I first looked into her eyes, I just knew how she worked and I've been jumping for joy ever since. As Mrs Beeton in her famous cookery book remarked in its opening passage for making rabbit pie: 'When making rabbit pie, first catch the rabbit!'

I'm so glad and blessed that my Sheila eventually caught me." William Forde: August 15th, 2017.
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August 14th, 2017.

14/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"I heard a programme on the radio recently about 'Horses and Ponies'. The wild ponies on Dartmoor cannot be controlled in numbers and one of the kindest methods of dealing with the problem is to eat them! The programme presenter also pointed out that on the more domestic front, a number of horses which had been left out to pasture over the past two years were stabbed and badly mutilated by senseless and heartless criminals. Another criminal practice which is becoming more common is 'sheep rustling'. To make it harder for the rustlers to sell their stolen produce, a clever Dales' farmer has dyed his flock Orange. Any crime against a horse or any creature for that matter is a crime that strikes at the very heart of civilisation, for there is no more stable companion a man could ever ask for than horse, dog, or cat.
Ever since I developed a love of reading history, I have been fascinated by the part that the horse has played over the centuries. Whether it has been work, transport, pleasure or companion, the horse has proved adaptable for the time. Even pit ponies spent most of their lives down the hazardous mines pulling tubs of coal from face to pit-head; and having the opportunity to see the light of day only when they'd gone blind or had little sight left! Whatever its task, whatever the weather, horses and ponies have always been by our side and have played their part.
The horse will ride you, work in your fields or pull your cart; whatever you ask of it, it will do in good heart. Your horse will remain a constant companion, it won't judge you or question your motives; it cares not how much you know so long as it knows you care. It will offer unconditional love as long as you rub it down and keep it warm at night, and will delight in the occasional apple and sugar lump treat. I swear that if God ever made any creature more beautiful, more faithful, more industrious and more majestic than the horse, He kept it for Himself.
During the late 1990's, a professionally read-tape of one of my stories, accompanied by background music was produced for radio transmission. The story is based on fact and is called 'Midnight Fighter.' It is suitable for any child aged between 5-10 years old, especially if they happen to be a horse lover or has to cope with cerebral palsy or any other disability. The book can be purchased in paper back fromwww.lulu.com or www.amazon.com or in e-book format from www.smashwords.com. As with all of my previous book publications, all profit from their sales go to charitable causes in perpetuity (£200,000 since 1989).
In the event of the child reader requiring two stories in the same book about the indefatigable nature of a true fighting spirit against all odds (one of them which is about Midnight Fighter, the horse, and the second, being a boy of stunted growth called 'Maw', who resists bullying), both stories are published in the book entitled, 'Fighter', which is also obtainable from the same source.
The audio version which was produced for radio transmission can also be freely listened to or downloaded from my website by accessing the link below." William Forde: August 14th, 2017.
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/midnight-fighter.html


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August 13th, 2017

13/8/2017

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Thought for today:
" Good morning everyone. I had a bad night with my hands and feet and didn't get off to sleep until almost 2,00 am. I did manage to sleep for four hours and eventually dropped back to sleep. At 11,00 am I awoke cuddling my pillow and started thinking how comforting and reassuring cuddles are. I then recalled a time in my early twenties when I was in a park in Toronto, Canada with a young woman who was going through a traumatic time and feeling somewhat fragile. I asked what I could do and she replied to the effect: 'Hold me in your arms, Bill, Pull me close and cuddle me. Make me feel safe and happy for the moment and make me feel a real person again.'

Ah! the power and magical qualities of a simple cuddle. I wonder how many of us had a Teddy Bear as a child that we would cuddle at a time of needing reassurance?

Everyone knows that the former American President, Theodore Roosevelt was primarily responsible for the introduction of the word 'Teddy Bear' into the vocabulary of the western world. What the general public is less likely to know about him is that he had a number of 'firsts' which made him a most unusual man for his time.

He was the first president ever to travel outside the continental United States while in Office. He was the first American ever to win the Nobel Peace Prize; he was the first president ever to fly in an aeroplane when the Wright brothers took him on a four-minute flight in October 1910, and he was the youngest president at the age of 42 years to assume Office. Even John F. Kennedy who was the youngest president to be elected to Office was 43 years old when he eventually assumed Office.

Of all the facts I ever learned about Roosevelt however, the one that has always endeared me to the man has been having his name attached to our much loved Teddy Bear. The Teddy is probably the most cuddled thing that the world has ever known. It is introduced into our lives during our childhood and for many who refuse to discard it, often remains there from cradle to grave. Even the fact that Roosevelt became blind in his left eye as the result of a boxing injury he sustained while in Office makes him just one more Teddy who lost a limb or an eye during the fray of everyday life!

If there was only one thing from the whole of creation that I could claim responsibility for, I would clearly love to have been the person responsible (however indirectly), for having introduced the world to the practice of giving and receiving 'cuddles'" William Forde: August 13th, 2017.
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August 12th, 2017

12/8/2017

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​Thought for today:
"Since the moment of my birth and the very first cry I made, 'anger' has played a great influence in my life. One of my mother's often-told tales was how I disliked my cot so much that before my third birthday, I had shaken it to bits in order to escape its constraints.

I grew up the eldest of seven children within a materially poor household where this week's food was paid for by next week's wages that my father had yet to earn. What I lacked in material things though, I made up for in imagination and positivism. When seven children converge on the breakfast table each morning to find food that will feed no more than three or four, survival instincts soon teaches one to push and shove, and shout a little more than the next person in line. To most outsiders, such loud voices often come across as aggression, but we from large families know it as being no more than healthy argument and fierce discussion.

At the age of twelve after a traffic accident in which I incurred multiple injuries, I was unable to walk for three years, after having been informed that I would never walk again. This state of affairs left me angry with life, fearful for the future and devoid of all manner of loving expression towards myself or others. The amount of anger in my heart carried me through initially and it also helped to determine my unflinching and disciplined resolve over the next eight years as I re-entered a more normal pattern of life while improving my mobility.

At the age of eighteen years, I was an angry young man and the youngest shop steward in Great Britain. I was angry by all the social injustice and discrimination around me; particularly the low wages paid to poorer folk for their eleven-hour-days working in appalling conditions. I became determined to fight the bosses any way I could to better the lot of my mill working colleagues. When I looked around me outside the factory gates, I saw an underclass of non-white people being racially discriminated against in work, accommodation and social circles and I even saw signs in boarding houses that blatantly read 'No blacks, no dogs, no Irish!' Spending two years in Canada and America during the early 60s revealed such colour prejudice to be even worse over there than it was here.

During the 1970s as a young Probation Officer in Huddersfield, I found that I was coming into contact with more and more aggressive offenders daily; offenders who had allowed their anger levels to break the law, break bones, break up families, wreck their lives and shatter all future prosperity. After many years of meticulously researching behaviour patterns, I was very fortunate to develop the process of 'Anger Management.' My research into the behaviour patterns of six hundred offenders revealed that at the heart of all inappropriate behaviour was a body imbalance of anger, fear and love. The 'Anger Management' process I founded, showed how persons who displayed anger levels which they had been previously unable to control under specific circumstances could now learn to manage and control their aggressive behaviour. Within two years, the benefits of this process had mushroomed across the English-speaking world.

During my 70th year of life, I was informed that I had a terminal illness that was treatable, but not curable. While I didn't consider myself neither a brave person nor a man resigned to die, I expressed no anger upon being diagnosed as such. I was greatly annoyed and possibly p...... off for a brief period that my marriage to Sheila, a mere five months earlier, would not last as long as we both had initially hoped. I was able, however, to express what thirty-five years earlier would have been 'anger', as being no more than 'a huge disappointment' rather than feeling bad about the world and the cards that fate had dealt me. Over the past thirty-five years, my anger levels have been controlled and have always been made to work in my favour. While I have often been angry with this or that, my anger has been appropriately and healthily expressed and I have subsequently behaved non-aggressively within the situation I found myself.

What has happened over the years, however, is that I have allowed my anger to work for me instead of against me. Sometimes it has been transformed into a steely determination to fight some cause, amend an injustice or more recently, face and confront my terminal illness. This has only proved possible, however, by finding more 'love' daily in my heart and in the heart of others than I found the day before.

You see, it is physiologically impossible to get the anger out of your body until you learn to put love there in its place. Love and anger are mutually incompatible bedfellows and cannot co-exist within the same body; hence the presence of one will produce the absence of the other and vice versa. As I said in my post yesterday, there is a 'Dragon of Anger' and a 'Dragon of Love' which fight for space within our hearts. Whichever one resides inside a person essentially governs the quality and precise nature of the behaviour that the body displays through its mind, mouth, hands, feets and other organs.

So the next time you hear someone's anger roar out, instead of roaring back at them, which will only worsen and aggravate the situation, offer some love and support instead; unless of course the roar springs forth from the mouth of an angry man-eating tiger who is very hungry and eager for its lunch; in which case forget everything I've just written and run for your life!" William Forde: August 12th, 2017.
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August 11th, 2017

11/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"Today is my son William's 34th birthday, which is happily being spent on his holiday across in England with me and Sheila instead of Australia where he has lived for a number of years. A very happy birthday, Will, from a dad who loves you very much and is extremely proud of you. That's William hanging out of the window of the Play House I built for him and his sister Rebecca in the playroom of their family home. His mother couldn't bear to have his head of curly hair shorne before his third birthday.

I also wish my brother Peter (who shares the same day of birth) a very happy birthday. May your special day be filled with much happiness, peace, love and generosity.

The one thing I like about all my children is their differences in mannerisms, along with their similarities in possessing all the values in life that truly matter. I wouldn't say that any one of them is perfect as I consider each still to be a work in progress.

I'm not one usually for giving my children who are now grown into adults advice, as I genuinely believe that we only accept the advice of another when it puts into words the secret oracles of our own soul. Also, I believe deep down, that the children of all parents, deep down believe that they know better than mum or dad!

At the risk of appearing more knowledgeable than you, William, I do believe that age carries with it, not wisdom, but a good idea of where many of life's land mines have been planted and some of the paths it is safer not to walk.
Don't ever let anyone tell you that there is something you cannot do; not even me! If you have a dream, hold it forever close to your heart, nourish it, treasure it and above all, follow it! In your pursuit of happiness, allow faith to take you wherever it will; to those places that many dream of, but fear to go.

Always remember not to worship at the altar of materialism or false Gods. A man who is not governed by the material things in life cannot be bought. He will remain true to his purpose and not lose direction, even during the harshest of storms, An important lesson I learned in my early twenties was that we all possess enough to be able to share. I also learned that the world is your oyster, but it's up to you to open it wide and find the pearl that lies at the heart of every man and woman. That pearl is love and forgiveness.

One of the first children's books I ever had published was 'Douglas the Dragon', in which I tried to illustrate 'The Power of Love'. There lives within the heart of every man and woman two dragons; a dragon of anger and a dragon of love, with each one trying to gain control over the thoughts, feelings and actions of mankind. The dragon who occupies the castle of your heart will control every aspect of your behaviour. The human heart is unable to accommodate both dragons at the same time and must, therefore, decide which dragon to house within. Those of us who find the 'Dragon of Anger' living within us can only evict him by putting into our heart the 'Dragon of Love'. Once Love enters our heart, Anger, being incompatible, instantly leaves it!

I met you, William, for the first time, on the day you were born 34 years ago, and I've loved you every day of your life since but is only in more recent years that I feel I've grown to understand you. I can finally say that I like the man you have become. However, son, all the liking and love I have for you will not matter one jot unless you always like yourself in equal measure. Or as my own mother would tell me, 'Billy Forde, like father, like son!' Have a very happy birthday, William. I love you. Dad xxx"William Forde: August 11th, 2017.
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August 10th, 2017

10/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"Today is a good day. Today is a day for enjoying all those things in life that we so often take for granted when our passage is smooth and unhindered. This evening we collect my son, William, from the airport and as I haven't seen him for two years, we will spend a nice week together before Sheila and I go away to Cornwall for a summer break. While we are away, my son will be visiting his mum to spend time with her and will return to stay with me and Sheila following our return from Cornwall.

I really look forward to seeing William. When one thinks about things that really matter, all the very best things in life are free; enjoying the presence and company of loved ones, family and friends. Being able to love freely and express without fear or favour.


For some though, many of these 'best things' are not possible due to ill-health, long-term disability, family breakdown and social isolation.Things like being able to breathe without being anxious about the next breath, being able to eat modestly and to taste the food we digest and keep it down, being able to walk without pain in legs that implore one to stop and rest: even being able to sit down unassisted, climb a few stairs unaided, tie one's shoelaces, put on one's socks, touch one's toes or get a good night's sleep is sadly beyond the scope and reach of many!

The acquirement of proper housing, gainful occupation, adequate material provision and good health is beyond the realm of so many people in society today. To have these is a blessing not to be ignored. They represent great treasures in our vault of fortune.

It is so easily forgotten amid the business of our daily lives, just how out of reach can be normal tasks that the able-bodied often take for granted. Add to these physical handicaps an absence of social ones like friendships, good neighbours, adequate community interests and involvement, and it becomes virtually impossible for one to feel a sense of 'belonging'. It becomes easier for a person to believe that their life has no purpose, little meaning and is devoid of all dignity. It is only such differences in the life of one person and another that enables one to gauge the disparity, measure the unfairness of their relative experience and know the wrong that exists and is perpetuated on the altar of economic growth at the expense of social justice! 

A good start to every day is to look in the bathroom mirror and to say, 'Today is a good day to be alive'. A perfect introduction to every person you meet on your daily travels is, 'Good morning' and the best gift you can give them is a warm smile that greets and sends them on their way happier than before. A good introduction to any person who knocks on your door is, "Hello there; how can I help you?" which sounds so much better, more inviting and less begrudging than, "What do you want? 
The enjoyment of life is made so much easier once these simple things and social courtesies become observed as essential ingredients of 'good living'." William Forde: August 10th, 2017.
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August 9th, 2017.

9/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"Many folk are frighten to look out into the future because of the uncertainty they face or the many unwelcome changes in their lives that they find hard to readjust to. Such apprehension and doubt keeps deep within them a yearning for a return to the past when things were much different than today. As a person who grew up during the 1950's as a happy, contented and fulfilled child in a large family, I can easily understand their position, but as a life-long history student with an avid passion to read and learn about both the past and present, I know how easy it is to wear the wrong coloured spectacles when we examine memories and past feelings.


I often wonder about conventions and customs of the past and present, and in particular how so many of the old ways seem alien in today's 'progressive' world. In the final analysis, I am obliged to conclude that a large part of how we view things is governed by one's age and circumstance. Whereas, I wouldn't have minded being part of the 18th and 19th century gentry or aristocrats and enjoying their landed, wealth and titled position, I know that I would have hated to have been some down-trodden scullery maid, hard working/low paid field hand or 9-year-old boy up a factory chimney.

That was a time when to have a child outside wedlock would cast a mark of shame upon a maiden's brow that could never be erased; when to steal a loaf of bread for want of starvation could see some poor soul transported across the world or even hanged, when debtors who were unable to redeem their loan would find themselves in prison. These were the days when men never allowed women to forget that they were men while routinely forbidding them to do 'this' or 'that' as they were constantly reminded by court and custom that they were only women,and as such were the property of their husband who they'd been placed on earth to serve.

These were the days when a woman could be beaten with a stick, no longer than one foot in length by her husband; times when women remained trapped in unhappy marriages and when to leave their marriage partner against his will meant penury, the loss of all contact with one's children and a life of destitution as a social outcast. This was a time when divorce was unheard of and male hypocrisy ruled supreme; a time when wives were there to breed child after child until either their body gave up the ghost or their husbands gave up the drink and his unreasonable demands on them. It was only within the last century that woman got the vote and their right to have or not have children was established. It was not until the 1970's that forced sex by a husband upon an unwilling wife; an undoubted form of domestic violence and sexual abuse, became widely recognised by law and society as being wrong and a crime. It is hard to think that less than 50 years ago in England there was no such concept as 'marital rape.'

Of all the good changes that have occurred over the past century, the best changes in my view have seen the vast disappearance of discrimination practices by man against woman!

I do however sadly miss the absence and bond of a community spirit that once existed in my youth, along with an attitude of 'make do and mend' that was quickly overtaken during the past thirty years by one of 'get now and spend', whether or not the item was really needed or could be afforded! I also regret the change of pace that we tend to live at today as many men drive fast cars, eat fast food and seek out fast women for instant satisfaction.


Of all past customs though, one I sadly regret the passing of is the ability of all class of people of 'keeping one's word'. I grew up at a time when to break it meant instant loss of Office for any politician and the withdrawal of all community respect from the man or woman in the street. Not only was a person's word their bond, but to break it was nothing short of personal disgrace. I always remember my parents telling me, ' Billy, I would prefer you to break the law, break a leg or even break your neck before breaking your word. A poor person has nothing in this world that is worth keeping except their good name and they will forever hold on to that if they keep faith with their word.'

All in all, while my love of history will always enable me to place a favourable slant on times now long past, I prefer to read about the past these days than to have ever been obliged to live it." William Forde: August 9th, 2017.
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August 8th, 2017.

8/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"The pain in my hands and feet were tolerable last night and enabled me to get four or five hours sleep.

Before going to bed I watched the television and was pleasantly surprised to have thoroughly enjoyed the conclusion of 'Man in an Orange Shirt.' This BBC2 drama was part of the BBC'S substantial 'Gay Britannia Season' commemorating the 50th anniversary of homosexuality being decriminalised in Britain. It was written by the novelist, Patrick Gale and is loosely based on the discovery he made about his own parents' relationship. His father was 'Gay' and because one risked imprisonment and the disapproval of society during the 1940's for one man to express love towards another, many gays married to provide a respectable face. This gently wrenching story of the secret romance between soldiers Michael and Thomas, and the increasingly frayed marriage of Michael and his wife Flora revealed both the harsh cruelty of the times and the dilemma a wife feels when she discovers that her husband is not the man she thought him to be.

I must admit that having been brought up in a Roman Catholic household and having always been led to believe that it is wrong for man to lie with man, watching men kiss and be intimately physical with each other has varied throughout the years from feelings of 'disgust' through to emotions of gradual and begrudging 'tolerance', finally accepting the fact of what is and arriving at a greater understanding of my fellow man.

What I can easily accept now which I couldn't previously have entertained, is that a man can truly love another man in as emotional and physical a way as heterosexuals can love, and that to deny that fact is not to acknowledge what is. I can also say that I understand these relationships much better now and do not view their existence as representing anything ugly or unnatural in the men or women who share them.

In many ways, one's age is as great a discriminatory factor in one's judgement as is one's values and that is why the youth of today find it much easier and more natural to accept ways and changing times in a manner that no old man like me, ever could!" William Forde: August 8th, 2017.




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August 6th, 2017.

6/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"The life of a parent can truly be considered to have been well spent when one's children are rewarded with the starting impetus to do good and do well in their dealings with others. Forget lavishing money and material wealth upon them whatever the practice of contemporary society is. Instead, safeguard their good health and firmly establish good principles in them: encourage them to dream, help to shape their character and build their childhood in the foundation of good breeding, conviction, a love of truth and a desire to seek out justice. Above all lavish them with your love and teach them through example, the practice of tolerance, sensitivity, perseverance and forgiveness of self and others. In general, dress them well in the 'full outfit' that enables them to face life with a positive attitude and a belief in self. If they can rejoice in coming first, second, third or merely competing in the race, they will never be considered 'a loser' or regarded as 'an also ran' when their lives are finally assessed by those they leave behind. As my dear mother often told me, ' Billy, when your heart's in the right place, the rest of you will follow.' I suppose that 'goodness' is like a shadow of one's character; have it and you'll never shake it off!" William Forde: August 6th, 2017.
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August 5th, 2017

5/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"When I woke up this morning, I thought about Molly Perkins, the school bully who likes to pull my hair hard in assembly and won't let go until I cry out. She sometimes frightens me. But today I'm going to stand up to her. Mum says everyone gets frightened about something some time and if I'm not scared when I stand up for something, then I'm not standing up for very much. I'm going to bring you to school with me today, Scamp.

As long as I have my dog beside me, nobody will boss me about! If I keep giving you extra dog biscuits Scamp, will you make sure that nasty Molly Perkins at school never pushes me to the ground again or pulls my hair in assembly? I keep telling her that if I bring my dog to school I'll teach her a lesson, but she said, 'Your stupid little dog doesn't frighten me!' I bet if she saw you she'd run a mile and if she heard your loud bark, she'd wee her knickers. She's not going to push me over and pull my hair again. No, she isn't! Today is a good day for standing up to the world." William Forde: August 5th, 2017
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August 4th, 2017

4/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"I had a long sleep in this morning and was as fresh as a daisy when I eventually got up. I have always considered myself a pretty tolerant person and someone usually needs to be blatantly offensive to offend me. Having expressed much uncontrollable anger in my youth, I have no intention of wasting my energy today upon someone so undeserving.

So while most moods don't upset my apple cart or disturb my sensibilities unduly, I must confess to losing my patience with people who seem determined to have a bad day as soon as they draw back their curtains on a morning.

One of the advantages of having an illness that will shorten one's life is knowing that life is too short to stay a sour puss for a moment longer than is necessary. If you approach your milk expecting a sour taste, then don't be too surprised when you get one. Stay sour and you will never enjoy the cream of life. There is nothing that is either 'good' or 'bad' in this world that thinking it so will not make it so. I've a strong feeling inside me that today will be a good day, so enjoy it while ye may." William Forde: August 4th, 2017.
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August 3rd, 2017

3/8/2017

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Thought for today:
​"From my favourite painting images, the sight of a man or woman hard at work moves me most. From my historical interest in Great Britain, I have always been enthralled by the 'Industrial Revolution' which took place between the late 18th and early 19th century. My favourite poem is William Blake's, 'Jerusalem' which Sir Hubert Parry wrote the music for in 1916, turning it into that most uplifting of anthems, 'Jerusalem'. I'm a 74-year-old Irish man who has lived in England since the age of 4 years, but I cannot hear that beautiful hymn without welling up with pride and gratitude, in the knowledge that England has given me every advantage in life I ever had.

My dear father who has been dead many years now, although unschooled and sent out to work in his early teens, always valued the merit of hard labour. He was reared in a time when a man who didn't break sweat ten hours a day hadn't the right to think he'd earned his wage. Unlike my mother, who was constantly giving me her advice whether I sought it or not, my father was very sparing in both his conversation and imparted wisdom. One of the few pieces of advice he gave me was to always do whatever I worked at to the best of my ability or else I was cheating myself and my employer. I was reared in a time when it was not unusual for men to work in the same job and with the same employer for the whole of their working life and changing one's job was not something one did often or undertook lightly. Another piece of dad's advice was, 'There is no shame in hard work, Billy, and no honest job is ever beneath any man. Never give up your job without doing it well until the hooter goes. If you're a good worker and leave it properly, they'll always take you back if the new job doesn't work out!'

My value of hard work and having an industrious attitude undoubtedly came from my father's influence and example, and there remains in me today a sense of profound satisfaction when I have done any work that I cannot better. Let your good work take you to the core of life and the heart of man. Do not sow any seed that does not grow love, nor place your soft coat on a harsh jagged rock to hide the hard contour of the land in which you live. Be proud of your God, country, family, spouse and self. Strip away all false pride, yet bow to no man nor raise yourself above another and your humble garments and honesty of motive shall not be mocked." William Forde: August 3rd, 2017.

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August 2nd, 2017.

2/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"From within my worldly pleasures, being able to write is probably the one that most preserves my sanity and gives my existence an added meaning. Having been an avid reader for most of my life, along with being a student of British history, I have always been fascinated by the practice of keeping a diary by both men and women. There are too many famous diarists to mention, but imagine the loss to the world of literacy and history had pen not been put to paper during moments of greatest secrecy.

An old lady called Etta, who became my 'adopted mother' after the death of my own mother, lived as a spinster until the age of 94 years. Among her many treasured possessions was her diary that I read after her death. All of her life, Etta, who was the youngest and only girl of two children, was expected to look after her invalid and bed-confined mum, besides keeping house for her strict father and brother. She rarely had any leisure time for herself throughout her week and was not allowed the freedom of mixing with other children of her own age outside school hours. She loved only one man in her life; a serving soldier who she kept secret from all others except one close friend. The couple planned to marry when the 'Second World War' was over, but her sweetheart soldier was killed in action and Etta was left to mourn in private.

Upon reading Etta's diary, one entry as a young woman in her late teens made a profound impression on me as to the importance of diary keeping for many similar girls of her day. I don't know if the words written were hers or of another which she'd read and copied, but they are so poignant:

August 4th, 1936
'I write of things in my secret book that no one would believe if I told them. I write my most secret thoughts, both good and bad and some of the body feelings that I cannot yet understand. My diary is my imaginary friend who will never lie to me or tell me anything that I do not wish to hear yet will always accept unquestioningly what I tell it. My diary will never impose its thoughts on me as I am able to open and close it at will. I can even change my mind today about something I thought yesterday and if I don't feel like picking up my pencil and instead pick daisies, my diary will not be offended. It will understand. When I write something that on reflection shouldn't have been expressed, I can simply take it back by crossing it out. I love my diary.'" William Forde: August 2nd, 2017.

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August 1st, 2017.

1/8/2017

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Thought for today:
"I slept much better last night. When I was in pain the previous night and got no sleep, I couldn't stop my thoughts returning to my mother. She was the one who counselled me as a boy and young man when the pain in my legs was often bad and brought tears to my eyes.

When I was young, my mother frequently told me to make the most of every day, as each day could be our last and we wouldn't know it until it had come and gone. Despite the many hardships I know she endured throughout her life, her face was never far from the next smile breaking out and her heart never knew coldness.

Indeed, I never once met a person who spoke badly of her or disliked her. Despite having received a basic education, she was in many ways wise beyond her comprehension. Her knowledge came not from books, but from the observation and experience of life itself. Rarely a day passed by without her issuing a piece of her Irish-spun wisdom to her children.

Dad always had to work over in order to provide more adequately for his large family and would retire to bed shortly after eating an evening meal and having a bath, to store up energy for the next day's hard work down the mines or in the foundry. Mum would then stay up until the late hours darning and ironing to get us off to school the next day. Being the eldest I would be allowed to stay up and talk to her when my younger siblings were in bed. This was a part of the day that I most looked forward to and now treasure most in my memory of childhood years.

I still recall the core of most of mum's stories and sayings though when repeating them today, I may not remember her precise words and often use a few of mine without changing the essence of her message. Being an avid reader for most of my life, I frequently find the essence of many sayings she passed down to me worded from the mouths of great men and women stretching back hundreds of years. I know that she never read such sayings from the pages of scholarly books and can therefore only conclude that whatever wise words a person speaks and groups together in message form, that others will have previously thought, spoken and written long before them. There is no greater proof that original thought is so rare a thing to find that if we come across it, we will never know it.

Since I met my wife Sheila, the last dozen novels I have written and had published have contained the seed of some of the many stories my mother told me during such nights when the rest of the household were in bed fast asleep. Naturally, there was a germ of truth in many of her stories, which she stretched in credibility for her devilment and my pleasure; stories which remain the same in the message though I have also stretched them into print, using artistic licence. These stories come under the umbrella title of 'Tales from Portlaw'(The place of my birth in Ireland) and can be purchased in either e-book or hard book format from www.amazon.com or www.lulu.com All profit from their sales will be given to charitable causes in perpetuity.

As a lasting tribute to my mother and in memory of her life and vivid power of imagination, all twelve of these romantic stories can be freely read on my website by following the link below:
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/tales-from-portlaw.html

During the past five years of my life, I have been visited by two terminal cancers and have twice had chemotherapy treatment for six-nine months to manage my condition. Such treatment has not been without cost and my worse side effect of the treatment has been a constant pain in my feet and hands which varies from 'very bad' to 'bearable.' Often my sleep pattern is interrupted/broken and my daytime experience made more difficult, but at such times I never allow the pain or my illness to define me or my mood. To do that would be to contravene my mother's advice as a child when a traffic accident left me unable to walk for three years and was to produce rheumatic pains in my legs that lasted a lifetime when eventually I did walk after more than four dozen operations of correction. I paraphrase her words, but her message essentially was, 'Though pain is a constant in your life, always let your positive attitude be a variable.' Love you, Mum. The pain has eased from yesterday and the day ahead seems ever brighter. Your eldest child, Billy." William Forde: August 1st, 2017.

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