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
  • Celebrity Contacts
    • Contacts with Celebrities >
      • Journey to the Stars
      • Number 46
      • Shining Stars
      • Sweet Serendipity
      • There's Nowt Stranger Than Folk
      • Caught Short
      • A Day with Hannah Hauxwell
    • More Contacts with Celebrities >
      • Judgement Day
      • The One That Got Away
      • Two Women of Substance
      • The Outcasts
      • Cars for Stars
      • Going That Extra Mile
      • Lady in Red
      • Television Presenters
  • Thoughts and Musings
    • Bereavement >
      • Time to clear the Fallen Leaves
      • Eulogy for Uncle Johnnie
    • Nature >
      • Why do birds sing
    • Bill's Personal Development >
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      • Cleckheaton Consecration
      • Canadian Loves
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      • 'Early life at my Grandparents'
      • Family Holidays
      • 'Mother /Child Bond'
      • Childhood Pain
      • The Death of Lady
      • 'Soldiering On'
      • 'Romantic Holidays'
      • 'On the roof'
      • Always wear clean shoes
      • 'Family Tree'
      • The importance of poise
      • 'Growing up with grandparents'
    • Love & Romance >
      • Dancing Partner
      • The Greatest
      • Arthur & Guinevere
      • Hands That Touch
    • Christian Thoughts, Acts and Words >
      • Reuben's Naming Ceremony
      • Love makes the World go round
      • Walks along the Mirfield canal
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        • The Ballad of Sleezy the Fox
        • Be My Life
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    • The Role of a Step-Father
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Thought for September 30th.

30/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"True happiness and contentment with life are open to all manner of creature, great and small, who is prepared to climb the heights of greatest expectation and assured uncertainty.

If one aspires to the highest of places, it is no disgrace if you do not reach the top. Set your sights high and live in expectation of wonderful things to happen, for in our aspirations rest all possibilities. Far better to set a goal and to fall short than set no goal at all! Far better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all! Far better to walk and never reach journey's end than to resign oneself to the rocking chair of old age and regretful recall. Far, far better to struggle to live than to die in comfortable surroundings."

So enjoy life to the full and learn to laugh at life in all its excesses. Even a poor church mouse becomes enriched once they learn to laugh at life in the face of adversity and triumph!

During my life to press, all manner of action has amused and entertained me as I have gone about my daily tasks. One of the troubles with some people today is their tendency to become over-serious about essentially small things in life. They remain entrenched in their 'drama queen' role from cradle to grave, refusing to lighten up at every opportunity presented to them.

When I was a Probation Officer, one two-month experience during my probationary year of training was spent working in H. M. Prison Wakefield; a category one prison that houses Lifers. During that time, I witnessed inordinate amounts of time of their day spent by many prisoners creating and planning mischief against the Prison Officers and other inmates; all in search of obtaining 'a laugh' at someone else's expense. One prisoner told me when asked, that serving a life sentence behind bars was so demoralising and destructive to his sense of well-being that if he couldn't have a laugh during his day, he would never get through the boredom of it.

What a change in the times that fifty years brings! Today, prisons are some of the most dangerous degrading and unruly places in the world to work and too few Prison Officers are expected to manage the prison population that exceeds their numbers 30-01; working in an environment where excess drug taking and violence is a constant occurrence by prisoner upon prisoner and prisoner upon Prison Officer and vice versa I am sad to say.

When I was twenty-seven years old and still hadn't settled down fully, I foolishly got myself entangled in what could be described as a potential 'road rage' incident. One day, I was travelling along the road in my car minding my own business when another motorist in a hurry 'cut me up' (overtook me on the inside at great speed). I was enraged and without giving the potential consequences any thought, I raced after him. I didn't know at the time what I intended to do when I caught up with him, as I was fuming, but whatever it was, I didn't intend to shake his hand and invite him back to mine for tea and biscuits! My chance came as I advanced on him and saw the traffic lights ahead change to red. He was obliged to stop and when I pulled up and opened the car to give him 'what for', at the precise same moment, he jumped out of his car, presumably with the similar intent to that I had. For a few seconds, we each set off running the twenty feet distance between us shouting abuse at each other with threatening gestures of a waving fist. Then, when we both noticed each other running towards each other and the traffic lights changed back to green, a number of other impatient motorists started pipping their horns at the two of us. We automatically found ourselves angrily remonstrating with the other impatient motorists who were simply wanting to get on their way and started to turn our anger away from each other and towards them. At that precise moment, he looked at me, I looked at him and seeing the funny side of the entire incident we both finished up laughing instead of in the hospital. We calmly returned to our respective cars, giving a Harvey Smith and Winston Churchill V-sign of 'up yours' to the other honking with annoyance queuing motorists we passed as we resumed our rightful place back in the driver's seat.

This was a perfect example where breaking into an automatic smile followed by a burst of laughter simultaneously by two very angry people defused a potentially volatile and explosive situation.

​I also recall when I had two six-month periods of weekly attendance at The Airedale Hospital in Keighley a few years ago for chemotherapy and blood transfusions that lasted four and five hours minimum, I would be one of a few dozen chemo patients sitting in chairs in a large lounge receiving our treatment. For the vast majority of the patients who had terminal conditions, the chemo treatment was self-enhancing and not life-saving. I have never seen such positive responses emanate from a room of living corpses waiting to happen. Yet, had one passed that lounge without knowing the reason for the patient's presence that day, one would have heard laughter and jokey banter as they walked by. A common response from room members would be ''If they didn't laugh, they'd have to cry' They didn't laugh because they were happy; they were happy because they laughed!

It just goes to show that at the height of laughter, the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities. So whatever by your present circumstances, whatever dizzy heights you may climb to, take a leaf out of my late dear friend's book, the author Stan Barstow, who once told me whilst we dined together, 'The trouble with life, Bill, is that folk take themselves too dam seriously'."
Love and peace Bill xxx


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Thought for September 29th.

29/9/2018

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​Thought for today:
"When I was young there was a favourite spot to which I would regularly go in order to think things through and look towards the future. Mine was a bridge that overlooked water below. Sometimes I would convince myself that if I looked hard enough towards the horizon, somehow I would be able to see what lay in store for me during the years ahead, the places I would travel to and the things I might achieve. This bridge was located at the bottom of William Street, at the entrance to the village of Portlaw in County Waterford, Ireland where I was born. It is an image that I have often used in a few of the many published books I've written since 1990.

By the time I'd reached the age of twelve, I found myself unable to walk for three years following a bad accident that resulted in me being run over by a lorry and having my body entangled with the drive shaft. In a matter of moments, dreams of a glorious football career vanished before my eyes and none of my previous future expectations seemed remotely possible of ever materialising.

I readily accepted that I would never be able to look into the future with any degree of certainty again, but in later years I did discover the great advantage to one's well-being of being able to live life in the present and look into the past and reflect upon and learn from some of the things we have seen and done. Without seeing past mistakes we could never learn to do things correctly. Without recognising past wrongs, how could we ever hope to put things right once more? In short, without the past, there can be no future for any of us.

This wonderful photo which my Facebook friend, Shirley Robson, gave me her permission to reproduce a number of years ago reminded me of the bridge of my youth. As my life progressed, favourite places where I would go to relax changed with my advancement of years.

Between the ages of 14 and 17 years of age, my secret haven to which I travelled daily was 'Bluebell Wood', down Green Lane in Hightown. Each day as I started to walk better following three years of being unable to walk, I would select a big oak tree in the centre of the wood and lay down and close my eyes. As I lay there, the only sights, sounds and smells I encountered were the tweets of birds, the occasional scurry of a hare or squirrel, the water of a nearby stream flowing over some boulders, the freshness of the breeze, the warmth of the air, the aroma of the woodland fern and the rays of sunlight breaking through the high branches of the oak tree up above.
As I lay beneath the large oak tree, my body would effortlessly sink into the ground beneath and my thoughts would float into the sky above as my whole being became synchronised with the peaceful surroundings of woodland life. I would achieve a state of total relaxation.

Over the fifty years that followed, I was to become one of the foremost Relaxation Trainers in Great Britain and I went on to teach literally thousands of people how to relax; occasionally with assembled groups of over one hundred participants, but more usually, a few dozen at a time. This magical woodland place would form the image of a 'Relaxation Tape' that I would professionally produce at the age of 32 years, of which 10,000 were freely given to highly anxious and tense people:
http://www.fordefables.co.uk/relax-with-bill.html

When my children were growing up, we would take weekly walks in Hopton Woods, Mirfield. My love of nature never left me and never will. In more recent years, especially since I was diagnosed with a terminal blood cancer that has destroyed any effective immune system, I have found refuge in a new place where I daily relax; our allotment that is situated fifty yards away from where Sheila and I live. Being in the allotment is safe for me as it keeps me away from the risk of mixing with infected humans, and my companions, the birds, squirrels, flowers and vegetables will never make me feel worse for their presence in my life. Incidentally, the book I like better than all others I have ever had published from my 67 to date is 'Tales from the Allotment' which can be purchased in either e-book format or hard copy from :
Amazon or www.lulu.com
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/387105

I believe that everyone should have a special place where they can go to that they feel safe, to think things out, get away from the stress of life and to simply relax. Each one of us needs to find that special person or thing that provides the necessary moments for calm, for stress reduction, for motivation and for inspiration. Your time to find that special vehicle is now; you never know when you'll need a little bit of comfort and relaxation.
For some, it is home where they feel more relaxed and others require to get away from home for a while as they need to break all association with their daily routine before they seem able to wind down.

I have now practised and taught Relaxation skills for over sixty years and I tell you that there are physically only four stages a person needs to negotiate to reduce tension 'wherever they are':
(1) Breath calmly and slowly extend the depth of your breathing. Then change your breathing pattern to the 'abdominal breathing pattern'. This is the pattern one automatically uses when asleep. As you breathe in your tummy goes out and as you breathe out your tummy goes in.
(2) Make your body muscles as floppy as possible by first tensing them up as strenuously as you can and then releasing the tension in a burst of energy. It helps if you hold your breath while tensing up muscles and breathe out forcefully upon releasing your muscle tension. AREAS OF THE BODY TO TENSE UP AND RELAX INCLUDE HANDS, FEET, LEGS, AND FACE. You can also shake yourself to release excess muscle tension.
(3) Find yourself a comfortable place to sit down or lie down, where you will not be interrupted and which is safe. Then close your eyes and open your hands and spread your legs. No body part should be touching another ( space fingers, legs, feet etc). Then imagine any scene that you find pleasing, safe and relaxing.
(4) Put all (1)(2)(3) together. A mere ten minutes daily is sufficient to relax you. The more you daily practise a part of this process, or better still, all of the four stages I have outlined above, the easier you will find it to relax.

​Do you have your favourite thinking place?"
Love and peace Bill xxx
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Thought for September 28th.

28/9/2018

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​Thought for today:
"'When I grow up I will never cry for what I do not have or never need. I will listen to all argument whether I agree or not and will never come down on the side of wrong over what I know and believe to be right, however close or distant in my affections the debater may be.

I shall keep my friends forever close and will never lose sight or contact with my family or my parents' values. I will continue to love all form of Nature and seek to protect all species of animals from its greatest predator, mankind. I will also welcome strangers to my shore who are homeless, the beggar to my door who is destitute, help the aged, protect the young and befriend the widow and widower.

And as for you 'Teddy', do not fear that you will be discarded and banished to the darkness of the loft, for you will always sleep beneath the warmth of my bed sheets and share the comfort of my pillow for all the days of your life. And if any man dares to object to your presence, then they will do so from the confines of their own bedroom.'


Have you ever wondered why some women will stop cuddling their partner, stop sleeping with their husband and even abandon their man just because his hair is thinning into a bald patch, his belly is getting larger and he no longer finds it affectionate or delightfully playful when you chew his ear as you drop off to sleep in the marital bed. Yet, however bald, fat, grubby or smelly their old 'Teddy' eventually gets, that old bear is never excluded from their affections and bedroom.

During my life, I have come across a few female beds which I have unknowingly shared with her favourite 'Teddy'; usually found at the bottom of her bed or snuggly hidden beneath the pillow whilst the love ritual is in play. I ask you, 'What's all that about?' I wonder what any of these women would have thought if, before I slipped beneath the sheets for a mad, passionate session of lovemaking, had I non-nonchalantly placed a Corgi car I used to play with at the age of five years beneath the pillows before the action started or placed some Dinky Toy in her hands to play with before we started? As my dear old mum would say, 'What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander!' Come to think of it, there may have been more than one reason that I was a 'Teddy Boy' in my youth?''
​Love and peace Bill xxx
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Thought for September 27th.

27/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Your past follows you like a field of fallen snow with differing depths of feeling imprints to match your many experiences. Feelings that weighed you down more one day than another; feelings that lightened your spirits 'til you felt you walked on air, and feel so sad that their tears sank beneath the earth's surface and formed an ice cap of bitterness that seemed impenetrable.

Be wary not to carelessly step upon the fragile feelings of others as you walk through life. How hard or soft you touch them will leave a corresponding footprint of your presence on their life. Be careful how you pave your own path, for every step you choose will leave its imprint and reveal in its wake the nature of life's traveller you truly were.

At the age of twenty-one years, I set off for Canada on my own. Initially, four working friends from Harrison Gardener's Mill were intending to go together, but one-by-one they each found pressing reasons not to go. I finished up boarding the S.S.Sylvania in Liverpool docks during a cold December of 1963 alone and somewhat apprehensive as to what I'd face in a brave new world outside Windybank Estate, Liversedge. These were the days before travel abroad became popular for the masses, and if one travelled from home, it was usually no farther than the seaside of Blackpool or Scarborough. Should one travel outside England, the means of transport would be a combination of bus, train and ship. Planes were for the likes of television travel correspondents like Alan Wicker and the rest of the wealthy jet set.

Twenty-one was the time in a young man's life when they shifted gear from the routine of daily life. Young men either joined the army, got married or did something that pushed the boat out from their parental moorings. I decided to emigrate, being financially able after receiving the tidy sum of £2000 compensation from a traffic accident I incurred at the age of 11 years that prevented me walking for three years.

I learned many things during a couple of years I was in Canada. Nothing widens one's experience as much as travel does. At twenty-one, I was fearless and believed that life was a daring adventure if it is anything of significance. Over two brief years, I discovered travel to be one of the few investments that truly makes one richer.

During the first three months of my time in Canada, I travelled extensively as I held a waiter's job on the Canadian Pacific Railway. This work enabled me to travel to the farthest corners of Canada and also into the States of America frequently on long distant journeys, free of charge. I met a lot of people on my travels around Canada and learned much about human nature. mankind's strengths and frailties. On my travels, I even encountered myself and found the company more rewarding than I would ever have imagined. The farther I went, the closer to me I came.

I was to meet many people who left their imprint on my life and enriched my experience. By the time I returned to England two years later, I was a changed person. Not only had I grown up in large measure but I liked myself better than when I'd embarked on the S.S.Sylvania a few years earlier. I'd learned many things in such a small space of time; mostly that success in life is when one's journey is measured in friends not miles, in the many different people you meet and not the numerous places you see. One's destination should never be a place, but a new way of seeing things. To travel should be nothing less than to evolve.

Although I loved Canada, I came home after I'd fallen in love with a wonderful young woman who was the daughter of the British Trade Commissioner and realised that I could never provide her with the standard of living to which she'd been accustomed to since birth. In truth, I was also homesick for dear old West Yorkshire and I missed the presence of my family more than I ever would have imagined.

All journey's of fruitful travel usually leads one back home. I was most certainly a changed person upon my return and from that moment of being back on home ground, I knew that I'd found a settledness of mind, the absence of which had initially spurred me into travelling to a strange land.

I will end today's post by a saying that my mother often quoted. It was initially quoted by Lewis Carroll and mum had pinched it as one of her own pieces of Irish spun wisdom, 'If you don't know where you are going, any road will get you there!' "
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 26th.

26/9/2018

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​Thought for today:
"Over the past forty years, women have gradually started breaking through the glass ceiling of corporate finance and high business. Once, it was thought only possible for a woman to climb to the top of the corporate ladder, provided it was leaned against the bunk bed of some male executive and to whom she waited on hands and knees.

For centuries, women have had to take a back seat in all aspects of life, including specific roles in the church, state, law, business, society and the home. During the years preceding the New Millennium, whether a woman chose to get on in the world of high finance or even in the film or modelling industry, such progress would often only become possible if she was prepared to do for her male boss, that which his wife wouldn't!

Thank God for a more enlightened change in general attitude and the introduction of sexual legislation today. I hold out a warm welcome to discrimination tribunals, more assertive women and the right of women being able to wear the trousers if they chose to do so at work, socially or in the home. It makes me proud to live in a country where we have a female Monarch and a female Prime Minister, and I know all of my 'gay' friends will forgive me when I say, 'I'm glad I'm married to a woman of substance'.

There is much benefit in looking in the mirror on a morning and issuing a statement. I don't mean a wicked Queen statement like, 'Mirror mirror on the wall who is the fairest of us all' , but instead a self-affirmative and positive statement such as, 'Today is going to be a good day'; something I have done for most of my life. If you happen to be a woman lacking confidence, and who requires self-enhancement in thought and deed, try the words below as a daily tonic:

'I am a woman of substance. Don’t judge me by my looks or my clothes. I am more than what meets the eye. Define me by the tough battles I fight each day. Define me by my courage to face them as I rise above no matter how difficult. My life is not glorious and I don’t have medals to flaunt but my biggest trophy is my heart. I value love, friendships, honesty and trust. I will survive despite all odds in my life because I am strong through and through. I am me, a person of worth, a woman of substance.'"
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 25th.

25/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Most people, if they are honest with themselves, would like to be remembered when they have passed over to the next life. For those who may have been awarded the Nobel Prize for this or that, ran a mile faster than any other man or woman in the world, invented penicillin, held the first position in their country as King, Queen, President or Prime Minister, or managed to climb all the way up Mount Everest blindfolded with hands and feet bound, their place in the history books are guaranteed. And yet, there is no guarantee that their names or person shall be remembered by anyone outside their close family.

People may someday forget who you were, what you said and may even overlook all you did in life, but they will never forget you if they never forget 'how you made them feel' yesterday, today and tomorrow; they will never forget 'how you positively influenced their actions and impacted their lives for the better'. A person's soul need only be touched once for the briefest of moments to ensure that it ignites an eternal torch in one's memory bank. When there is light in the soul there will be beauty in the person. We will never forget another who has touched our soul and made us happy; someone who gave us the spiritual experience of living with love, grace, and gratitude.

Most of us will have had a teacher in our youth who believed in us and therefore made a positive difference in our life. A positive and everlasting change in our lives may even have come from a piece of advice that another gave us at a crucial moment in time, and which made a significant difference. Our significant shift in mental and bodily gear may even have resulted because of an idea we discovered in some book we read, or even emerged from the slogan written across some public billboard that one viewed from the top deck of a bus. 

I have not the slightest doubt that the person who made the most positive influence in my life (leaving Jesus to one side), was my mother.

My mother often told me to believe in self and others. Whenever I felt that something was too difficult to bear or too difficult to do, she would remind me that we are all stronger and better than we know; it's just that we sometimes forget it! She displayed this capacity to forget those things that hurt the most and prevents a person moving forward with their life. When she did look back, she did it with a forgiving that illustrated her love of all. She lived each day of her life gratefully and always looked forward to the next day hopefully. Forever, the dreamer and eternal optimist, my mother saw the innocence in every child, the potential greatness in her own children and the miracle in every experience. She also was able to let go of the thoughts that didn't help or make her stronger. The one thing she could never do, however, was to break her tobacco addiction and sadly she ended up a chain-smoker in her mid-forties that undoubtedly contributed to her early death at the age of sixty-four.

Was I to put in my mother's mouth words that her limited vocabulary would prevent her uttering, but sentiments that her way of life and her beliefs would wholeheartedly endorse, they would be,'Let me live in a simple house by the side of the road and be a friend to all who pass.' Her way of life was how my mother touched my soul; that is why I'll never forget her.

There are so many things she told me that I have treasured and used in my life, but the one thing I have used most often and had incorporated into my general behaviour pattern by the age of twenty years was the accumulated learning our experiences with others offer. She once said,  'Billy, everyone you meet has something good to give you, if only you can see it. Never know a person without taking away one good thing from having met them'. For the past fifty-five years, I have never experienced one relationship, whether I considered it to be good or bad at the time, that I did not take away one significant piece of knowledge that would help me with the next relationship I developed.

I'll never forget you, Mum. Love from your oldest child, Billy."
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 24th.

24/9/2018

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​Thought for today:
"When I was young and I first heard one woman tell another that she was 'going through the change', I wondered if she meant that she was changing her job, house or husband! Menopause was a subject that had not yet registered in my brain, and until the 1970s raising the issue of female menopause was a taboo conversation in any mixed social circles. Indeed, the comedian, the late Les Dawson and Roy Barraclough acted out the roles of Cissie Braithwaite and Ada Shufflebottom. These two characters became much loved for their realistic parody of the times. Barraclough's character, Cissie had pretensions of refinement and corrected Ada's malapropisms or vulgar expressions. Representing authentic characters of their day they spoke some words out aloud, but mouthed others, particularly those pertaining to bodily functions, sex and 'women's troubles'.

There are, however, many changes that some dissatisfied and unfulfilled women could productively have; changes that they have a choice in instead of those that result in them coming down with the hot flushes.

Have you ever had one of those days when nothing has gone to plan and you haven't had the time to take a pee? Don't despair because help is at hand. Rinse out your mop, sit yourself down on your bucket and take in three deep breaths; then count to ten and resolve to do something about it. Now, doesn't that make you feel much better?

Now seek out the gaffer and tell him that you don't feel you were destined for the job of a cleaner and general dog's body. Just because you married a Mr Mopp or a Basil Brush only makes you one in name only.

Look your boss straight in the eye and in your boldest of voices tell him, 'Stick your job Buster where the sun don't shine. Come next Monday, I'm off down to the Job Centre and see if there are any of those fashion model jobs going. Or I might go back to Night School and become a teacher, a doctor or a barrister. My body and brains are as good as the next girl's, so pick up a brush and clean your own floors and lavatory!'

Now, doesn't that make you feel better?

It always seems impossible to do until it's done and then you think, 'Why did I wait so long to seek change?' And even if your change doesn't entirely work out as you planned/hoped it would still remind yourself that even when you fall on your face, you still move forward. My mother often told me as a child when I promised to do something but didn't, ​'Billy Forde, well done is better than well said!' Mum always believed, like, Mr Micawber, the clerk in Charles Dickens's 1850 novel, 'David Copperfield', that 'something would always turn up.'

'Leap for your dreams and the net will appear' was her motto of blind faith in self and others. I have found in my life to date that when one acts as if what one does make a difference, it usually does!

So remember that neither reputation nor self-respect can ever be built on 'what you are going to do'. Opportunities are never nebulous happenings that appear from the blue; you create them. Often success is down to making the right decision as to what to do next because it is only when you stop chasing the wrong things in life that you give the right things a chance to catch up with you. Mum used to tell me, 'Billy, God didn't place us on this earth to have a cushy life. Life is hard and you have to work at it if you want it to work for you'. She was so right, and when one thinks about it, the only place where 'success' comes before 'work' is in the dictionary,

When I was a teenager, the confidence that mum instilled in me essentially made me fearless where facing life and truth were concerned. In the years that followed I discovered that everything one wants out of life can usually be found on the other side of fear. So my simple advice is to always start where you are, use what you have and do what you can as well as you can do it. Such a positive approach to life will act as a good first rung on the ladder of success.

I will end today's post with a quotation from the Chinese Philosopher, Lau Tzu who gave each of us the secret of flight when he said, 'When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.' So do what you feel you want to/have to do and at the end of the day, whatever the outcome, let there be no excuses, no explanations and no regrets, as the greatest thief of future happiness has always been permanent regret."
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 23rd.

23/9/2018

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​Thought for today:
"Hold on fast to Nature for it is the most nourishing of all assets in one's daily life. I once remember reading the words that Nature and God are one and the same and that to love Nature is to love God.

If there are but three things on this earth that reveals the very purpose for being here, it is the birth of a creature, the innocence of a child and the presence of Nature's influence all around us.

Little does this child know and truly appreciate that what now fills her hands is the source and sustenance of all contentment; the capture of nature's sun trap, the secret of earth's secret smile, the changing of one season to the next and the growth of a child into the adult. Children represent the cradle of civilisation. They are the maps of our future. In the hands of this little girl, like all our young, lies the essence of goodness and on their shoulders is placed the heaviest of all burdens; for like the Greek mythological Titan, Atlas, their hands hold heaven and the shoulders of our young support the earth; the future of all mankind."
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 22nd.

22/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"The 18th century Methodist founder, John Wesley believed that prayer is where the action is, and I cannot but accept from my own experience that he is so right. As a bad boy turned good, please believe me when I tell you that true redemption is open to anyone, whatever bad they have done, who is prepared to open their hearts to God. And for those who do not or cannot believe in God, redemption is also open to all those who are prepared to open their heart to others.

According to the Hebrew Bible, 'The Book of Jeremiah', the second of the Prophets in the Christian Old Testament there is one line that sums up completely my own belief in the 'power of prayer'. 'Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you': Jeremiah:29:12.

Throughout my life, I have personally witnessed the 'power of prayer' in a number of circumstances that appear incredible, and I tell you most sincerely never to underestimate the power of prayer, love and faith if you want to maximize  the best possible outcome in all things important.

My work as a Probation Officer for twenty-six years, and particularly as a group and stress and anger-management worker during that time, taught me one of the most important truths in my life; that God works through each of us in ways that few men and women fully appreciate. During my working life I have witnessed the lame walk and the dying live on, despite medical prognostications to the contrary. I have been at the death beds of those who believed in a God and those who didn't, and I know which ones died in greater peace.

I have interviewed men and women prisoners in jail who ought never have been sent to prison in the first place and have eaten at table with many rich company who ought to have imprisoned had there been any justice on earth. From all the good people I have ever been privileged to know, as many have not been believers in God as those who were professed Christians, but all the good non-believers in God I have known lived a Godly life and displayed a deep belief in their fellow man. From all the Good and the Just people I have known, at least one quarter have had different skin shades of white, black, brown and yellow in equal measure. From all the Good people I have met, approximately one third have not been heterosexual.

It is often said that things in life are sent to test us and I view all manner of experience, incident and person I daily encounter as being part of my testing ground. I cannot help but believe that we are all spiritually connected and exist within a cosmos of positive energy that some  of the more foolish and negative among us insist on shaking off instead of embracing. Every day I live, I believe stronger and stronger in the 'power of good' and the 'power of prayer' and I know longer have to look for it or seek it out as I cannot walk ten yards down the street without witnessing it in action. Only three days ago, I needed the help of some kind person with a wagon to travel to York with me and collect one hundred pavement slabs I bought cheaply for my allotment. My friend who helped me told me on our journey that he had been disowned as a child by his blood mother, who still continued to rear his siblings, that he had been brought up in care and that he had served ten years imprisonment for killing a man in a brawl. I can honestly tell you that in my view, I would place my friend in this category of 'good person' today who exemplifies how love has radically transformed his life for the better. I don't think he is a Christian but his daily acts of kindness and consideration outweigh those of most Christians I know.

There are people in this world, whom upon meeting and getting to know, reinforces the self-evident truth that they were meant to be in this world the 'good' person they truly are. I would include in this list so many of my Facebook contacts, and it would be churlish of me to start naming some of them without naming all. For illustration of my post today, however, I will identify my Facebook friend Joseph Newns as a good person who believes stronger than any other person I have ever met in 'The Power of Prayer'. Through his many good thoughts, ideas and actions, I have learned from Joseph that true prayer is measured by weight of worth and not length of words.I have learned that a single groan before God may have more fullness of prayer in it than the finest oration of great length. I ask forgiveness for omitting all the names of every 'good' person I have as a Facebook friend whose goodness daily is displayed in different ways to those as I have cited Josephs' being acted out.

Over the past twenty-four hours, my Facebook friend Steven Spencer messaged me to say that after a very difficult and struggling time, his partner, Ken, is slowly on the mend. His dear mother, Gladys, however, who has vascular dementia has been diagnosed as having a few days left to live and today seems to be the day that she is most likely to pass away from this life. Anyone who is out there and who believes in my worth as an individual, I ask you, be you a believer in God or Mankind, please say a prayer for Gladys today that her passing is as smooth as can be. Thank God for her presence on this earth over the years and also keep in your thoughts the difficult feelings her son Steven and other family members are having to deal with.

As I lay in bed early this morning, I thought about Steven's present trial and as I prayed for his mother I thought about all my other Facebook contacts who are going through their own personal tests and struggles with death, illness, and other difficulties. My thoughts went to my church bulletin that weekly has my name in its list of 'the sick' to pray for. I also thought (especially as Facebook no longer automatically brings up the posts of one's total contacts as they used to),wouldn't it be nice if one person could set up a daily post that enabled any Facebook member/contact to indentify their situation that they would appreciate the thoughts and prayers of others being given to. The person managing this service would be in effect a prayer collator and more people would be able to check out the daily sick list more easily.

I know that he is a very busy person but I would ask my dear friend, Joseph Newns to give this idea some thought as to its feasibility. Please note, it would be like a notice board that is daily added to and altered, but at least anyone going through such trying/significant times would be able to feel that their weight/relief/happiness/sadness is being shared and that they are not alone. I include the emotions of relief and happiness because I would also want such a daily bill board to identify the beating of cancer and the health improvement of a once ill person. It should be a bill board of both sad and happy news to share with our Facebook buddies. Please consider, Joseph and I promise it will be the very first and the  last thing I ever ask of you.
​Love and peace Bill xxx" 

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Thought for September 21st.

21/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"This afternoon we will be picking up an Italian visitor from Rome called Josie who will be our guest for the next week or two. We met Josie for the very first time during our European holiday this summer. Josie was one of the landladies who rented us part of her house for three days. To save us the hassle of trying to drive into and around a busy Rome City, as well as find a parking place, Josie's husband drove us there and collected us at the end of our day at the Vatican. Each of our evenings, we were invited to join the couple for an evening meal and a bottle of wine.

It was not only a meeting of minds between ourselves and Josie and husband but within such a short time, our relationship bond became as cemented as many long-term relationships. Upon leaving, Josie invited us back, the next time as her guests and not as paying tourist and we reciprocated the offer should ever Josie find herself in England.

Two months after returning from our European holiday, Josie phoned us out of the blue and said, 'I'm coming to stay with you in Haworth in September if you will have me?' Today, Josie arrives to taste the pleasures of Haworth and its rugged moorlands, and we are looking forward to reviving and extending our friendship. 'We look forward to seeing you both in September' Sheila' replied, to which Josie responded in her broken English that she wasn't bringing her husband with her as she wanted a holiday and would, therefore, be arriving alone!

Two things I draw from this experience. First, it ceases to surprise me how many married women go off on holiday these days without the accompaniment of their husband. My own sisters Mary and Eileen frequently engage in this behaviour, although I have to add that latterly, my sister Eileen and her husband have been going off together two or three times annually. However, Eileen still remains partly tied to her old behaviour pattern and opts to leave John at home while she dances off to Jersey two or three times a year.

Without going into numerous accounts of different women I have known to discover the advantages of abandoning their husbands for a holiday without them in the summer months, I will mention but one other; my late mother. So many times in my youth, when mum had three children instead of the brood of seven she was to give birth to, mum would frequently give myself, and sisters Mary and Eileen a weekend surprise. Mum always keep us on her toes with her spirit of spontaneity. I still recall one Friday afternoon in 1951 when I was aged 9 years and sisters Mary and Eileen were 8 and 7-years-old respectively. One minute mum was about to serve us Friday tea before she started to cook dad's tea for when he returned from his shift down the pit. The next minute, mum, abandoned our teas, asked us to put on our coats and after hurriedly packing a case set off on holiday. 'Come on, and hurry up you three' she told us, adding 'if you get a move on, we'll get the train and land in Holyhead to catch the midnight cattle boat. (Our transport across the Irish Sea was colloquially known as 'The Cattle Boat' because it was the cheapest way of steerage if they housed human passengers on the top deck and cattle below deck). We will be in Dublin by tomorrow morning and at your grandparent's house in Portlaw by teatime!'

Before mum left the house she would leave my dad a note telling him she had gone to Ireland for three weeks and asking him to avoid the rent man and the tallyman when they called for their weekly monies as she had borrowed the rent, plus the tally man's money, and had also raided the shillings from the gas meter by breaking into the box. Seemingly, when the gas man came to empty the meter of their shillings, householders could look forward to a cash rebate. If the shillings in the meter were short (reflecting a break-in by the householder), the gas man would simply reduce the shortage from the householder's rebate due. There was no such thought of reporting the householder for theft, as to prosecute one person on the council estate would mean prosecuting every other householder who had also 'borrowed' a shilling or two mid readings. As soon as we arrived at my grandparents in Ireland without warning, they would put us up and feed us for the following three weeks. Before mum took her coat off at my grandparent's house she would write and post a letter to my dad. The letter would be brief and absent of all endearments and simply read: "Have arrived at my parents, Paddy. Please send some money when you can. Will be back next month. Maureen' For the next month, dad would then work over if possible at the pit and even go into work on Saturday morning to clean the machinery, 'just to pay for mum's spontaneity'.

Secondly, how often do we meet people on holiday who we say upon parting, 'Please visit whenever you are over our way. We'd love to see you', without ever expecting them to take up the invitation.

​We are so pleased that Josie took us at our word which was genuinely meant, instead of simply accepting it as tourist courtesy to which nothing more than lip service is ever paid. It is nice to make another genuine friend, but I just wish she had brought her lovely husband with her also!"
Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 20th.

20/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"The way that many young children speak to their parents today leaves much to be desired and also leaves one in no doubt as to the general demise in their level of respect; particularly in areas of manners and consideration for their elders.

In my day there was a clear pecking order. With regard to child safety, children were of paramount consideration to the whole community, but in respect of child consideration, children came to the bottom of the pecking order.

Children gave up their seat on a bus for any standing adult without being asked to and never spoke without invitation in the company of adults. The old saying of 'children being seen and not heard' was far from being an old wife's tale. These were the days when both boy and girl in their teens often rode the tandem of both school and work; occupying themselves on paper rounds, potato picking, hay ricking or any other spare-time activity that could be performed outside the school day and contribute to family coffers.

Even when a young person went to work, all of their unopened wage packets found its way into the family budget (with the exception of a few bob that was returned for spending money), and it stayed that way until one either got engaged or left home and got married. And children took this as a perfectly proper thing for them to do. Indeed, how could they possibly think this custom strange or otherwise when even all working class dads tipped up their unopened wage packet to the mother of the house? (I was led to understand that middle and upper-middle-class husbands in white-collared and salaried jobs never told their wives how much they earned. How different things are today; for better or worse, I'm not quite sure?

As a life-long student of history, it has always amused me that during those olden days of abject poverty where there was always less money coming in than going out, most mothers kept control of the purse strings and was held responsible for there being food on the table. Surprisingly, when household income started to exceed expenditure and there started to be more coming in than was owed out, that was when the father of the household started to assume budget responsibility. It's a funny old world, aint it?"
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 19th.

19/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Reflect on present blessings and stay happy. Think not upon past misfortunes whose principal home of residence is sadness and bitter regret. Be kinder to self; stay blind to the faults of others and your eyes shall see the shadows of mankind's positive intentions and the substance of his good deeds.

One of my favourite quotations is by the author Leo Tolstoy who said, 'If you want to be happy, be.' My dear mother once told me that because people like certainty, it is as though most seem to prefer the certainty of misery than to risk being happy.

Be like a child, innocent in intent and pure of thought and you shall mature into a good person of purposeful direction and profitable existence. Above all, be who you are, not who the world wants you to be."
​Love and peace Bill xxx


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Thought for September 18th.

18/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Over the past twenty-eight years, I have spent the greater part of my leisure time writing books for publication, and whilst I will never hang up my pen permanently, I have, during the past two years radically altered my daily habits. I have had sixty-seven of my books published since I first started writing in 1990 and they have raised over two hundred thousand pounds for charitable causes through the profits of their sales. They have also brought me much pleasure and satisfaction in their writing.

Over the past few years, however, my priorities have significantly changed; no doubt helped in large measure by having to cope with the management of a terminal blood cancer and its physical effects. Added to this physical burden has been a worsening of my lung capacity from two successive heart attacks many years ago. The failure to have a stent inserted left me operating my breathing output on three working heart chambers. Also, my immobility has worsened significantly as my legs no longer seem able to straighten and bend sufficiently; thereby making any distance of walking harder to negotiate and more painful in the process. I have even had to climb over that psychological mountain of affording myself a wheelchair when I need to travel a good distance without the car in town.

Over the past five years, my current daily output has significantly altered from writing and having published three books annually to one book a year presently. I have reassessed my priorities to both self and others in determining how I now spend my hours of the day throughout the year. My three prime activities today to help self and others are writing, gardening and singing.

I decided last year to write one book each winter for publication when the weather does not allow me and Sheila to garden in our allotment. Being in our allotment and the fresh air is extremely good for me as it strengthens my lungs, exercises my limbs, soothes my mind and provides my weakening muscles with necessary exercise. Having no effective immune system with which to fend off bugs and colds, the allotment also enables me to lose myself in the companionship of birds, flowers, plants and vegetables and not face crowds of infectious humans. Even doing small energetic things in the allotment has done me the power of good health-wise, and this past year has been the best year I've had since I developed a blood cancer six years ago; especially as the average lifespan for my type of cancer is three years and six months according to the statistics one of my cancer consultants showed me after I'd directly asked him five years ago while having my first six-month course of chemotherapy.

Since I developed blood cancer, my daily posts have become more important to me as a way of helping others come to terms with death, dying or living with pain. My expertise in other areas concerning stress, poor sleeping, emotional disturbance and anger management etc. have undoubtedly been able to help many hundreds either die better or live more positively and purposefully. Indeed, between one and two hours daily is spent providing advice to numerous contacts seeking it. Consequently, this writing has become more meaningful to myself and others than publishing another novel.

Thirdly, since I read that singing practice can significantly improve one's lung capacity around the beginning of May 2018, with the exception of one month's holiday in Europe, I have practised singing daily, which I have put up on my Facebook page. Let me say that my lung capacity has greatly improved. My daily SATS (which I record four times daily to measure the amount of oxygen in my blood) has moved from a rating of 83 to 99. Please note that between 88-92, signifies the presence of OCPD or emphysema in the body and 99 is the highest possible score anyone's lungs can possibly have. So, I would advise anyone with breathing difficulties and oxygen deficiency in their lungs to take up singing practice daily. It matters not how well or badly you think you sing, believe me, not only will your oxygen blood levels greatly improve, but so will your singing. I have always been my own biggest critic, yet I have to acknowledge my progress from croaker to crooner the more I practise. My breathing is more efficiently employed when I sing now, and the range of songs I can tackle today of both slow and fast beat and all manner of styles becomes more effortless daily.

Every now and then when I go through my drawers, at the back of one I will often find some scribbled notes about some story theme I might write at a future date. Recently I came across these few introductory paragraphs for one such story yet unwritten, and which I include below.

'Goodbye, my love. I will not do a thing to shame our young family in your absence. You are my one true love, the one that I adore. They could never be another like you; never could there be another who touched me, kissed me, moved me as you did during our brief years together. When our daughter grows into a woman, I hope that there will be no more wars in foreign lands to deprive her of loved ones.

I'll tell her of your bravery, of how you gave up your life in Afghanistan so that life there could be better for its peoples; a people who never wanted us there in the first place. I'll tell her of your many worthy traits, but most of all I'll tell her about that side of you that even your own brothers and sisters never discovered while you lived; those most private of things that only a wife and lover could ever know. I'll tell her how we used to laugh and cuddle in bed on a night when other bedmates were probably preoccupied with other physically important yet lesser things. I'll tell of how you used to let me win occasionally at the games we played whenever you noticed that look of steely determination on my face. I'll tell her how big a hole that your absence has made in my life, but I'll also tell her that I wouldn't have had a life half as good with any other man. And I'll tell her that brave though you undoubtedly were, you were never foolish enough to believe that men don't cry when they are emotionally hurt.

It only seems like yesterday when you last came home on two week's leave, although it was five months ago. I'll never forget that last afternoon we spent at the zoo with our little Annabelle or those precious nights and time we had to reacquaint ourselves with the magic of each other's smell and touch. Neither shall I ever forget that visit from the army officer only two weeks after you returned to duties that you would never be taking home leave again, and that you and three other soldiers in the platoon had been killed by the enemy while on a routine patrol.

I find it hard thinking of a future without you. The army officer who informed me of your death four months ago also returned the last letter I sent to you a few days before you were tragically killed, along with other personal belongings. The last letter I sent you my love, was unopened. It is a letter that you sadly never got to read, I will read it to you tonight after I have put little Annabelle to bed, and tell you of our marvellous news.

'Darling Ben,
I am over the moon with the result of the pregnancy test I have now taken twice. We are to have another child, sweetheart. I have to keep this letter short as little Annabelle is crying upstairs. Something has frightened her or she has probably had a nasty dream, but I will write more fully tomorrow. Good night, darling. I can't wait to see you back home again where you belong. Me and little Annabelle miss you terribly. Lots of love.
Mary and Annabelle...and this other little one growing inside me xxxxxxx'"
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 17th.

17/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"There are four things in this world that every child born could undoubtedly benefit from; their love and relationship with a pet, the opportunity to mix with as many friends and social groups as possible, listening to all kinds of music and being introduced to the reading of books at an early age. I could, of course, include many more, but these four selected areas are the experiences that are most capable of instilling a love of life and ensuring the greatest pleasure in living it, along with a better understanding of one's purpose and the advantages of an adventurous spirit.

Of all the innocence that is to be found on this earth, none can surpass that of a growing child oblivious to most of the world's brutalities. A child invariably presents as a dumb creature, yet they often display an intelligence that is far more comprehensible and compassionate than that of mankind.

If you want your child to truly grow up compassionate sensitive and loving; if you want them to have the strength to face life and death and to look for meaning where meaning is often hard to find, then forget the computers, laptops, bedroom television sets and top-of-the-range mobile phones as presents when their birthday or Christmas next comes around. Instead get a pet that will bond the humans within a family as a unit far more effectively than any inanimate object ever could. A loving pet brings so much more to a family that can ever be imagined. It brings added life; it brings soul!

Allow and even encourage your child to mix and socialise freely with as many social strata, nationalities, different faiths and customs as opportunity presents. During times of war, nationalism can be essential to maintaining the courage and togetherness within communities to win through the struggle, but often what was a welcome trait for a country to exhibit during war years can be counterproductive behaviour during times of peace, where building international cooperation is more important than building bombs and is infinitely more crucial to a country's long-term success.

It annoys me today that the politicians who allocate the money for educational learning and pursuits in our schools do not see the great loss that is incurred in a pupil's life when there is no money allocated to music lessons. To many educationalists and politicians, music does not deserve the money required to promote it in our children as do the sciences and other topics of education.

Without music, life would be a mistake. I would teach children mathematics, languages, religion, philosophy, history, geography, but most importantly, music; for as Plato said, ''Patterns in music and all the arts are the keys to learning'. Music not only excites, relaxes and soothes, but it gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and brings life to everything it touches.

Finally, civilisation without culture is a barbarity and crudeness of existence. The reading of books not only brings wisdom but also escape, excitement, knowledge, the development of the mind and the creation of new ideas. Many a good story read has led to better stories being written by the reader. Some books and their contents have changed lives. On the positive side, they have improved and changed minds. On the negative side, books have been known to alter the course of history, indoctrinate the minds of the masses and destroy freedom (Chairman Mao Tse-tung's 'Little Red Book' and Adolf Hitler's 'Mein Kampf' to name but two), Books are one of mankind's most powerful tools in the art of persuasion. I recall that reading Victor Hugo's 'Les Miserable' had a significant impact on my life for the good as it reinforced the importance of giving and receiving 'second chances.'

Was I to name three books that had the greatest influence on me they would be 'The Bible', 'Les Miserable' and 'The Power of Positive Thinking'. Was I to name two of the sixty-seven books that I have written and had published since 1989 which have had the greatest influence on tens of thousands of children, they would be 'The Douglas Dragon Stories ' ( that states only by putting love in one's heart can hate and anger be evicted from the body), and 'The Sleezy the Fox Stories ( that states everyone deserves a 'second chance').

I consider all these aspects of development crucial in the life of a growing child to make them wealthy, healthy and wise in areas of prosperity, physical and mental well-being and worldly knowledge.

Children are our future and we should do everything in our power to make their lives as secure, healthy and happy as we possibly can. A while back, I lay in bed listening to Nick Ross on Radio Five talk to people who had been diagnosed with different kinds of cancer. The remarkable thing I learned from the programme was that courage rests in the domain of the majority, not the few. While I felt for every person on the programme, I cried when it came to hearing about cancer developed by innocent children; little ones who had not yet reached their teens.

As someone with terminal cancer, I would willingly give some of my remaining time to any child with a terminal illness was that possible, and if I was an influence in our Government, I would prioritise the cost of children's treatment in the NHS over and above that of adult treatment any and every day of the week. Children are our best future; always have been and always will be."
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 16th.

16/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Between the ages of 8 and 11 years, I attended an Old Time Dancing School in Heckmondwike, and in doing so, I discovered dancing to be the hidden language of romance. Even in those early years, I would do whatever was necessary to get into a girl's good books, if I fancied ever making it into her arms. Though fancying at that young age never amounted to any more than the occasional peck on the cheek. Moving from Old Time Dancing to the Modern Waltz proved to be a masterstroke on my part, and I found the mere holding of a female's waist for a full three minutes as one glided around the floor, sufficient to stir my imagination and excite the senses of pulsating youth bursting to free himself from the straitjacket of preadolescence. Dancing taught me that in emotional terms, movement never lies or stands still. It resonates with the body's twists and turns and synchronizes in pulsation with the flow and ebb of a young love's heartbeat.

It was only after I started to learn the tango that I started to recognise that dancing is the most sensual means of movement known to man and woman. Indeed, some might even claim it to be sexual at its heart; a form of perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire!

Just as I was started to take the floor by storm and had won two medals for old time dancing before my twelfth birthday, I was run over by a wagon. I incurred extensive injuries, was in the hospital for almost a year and didn't walk again until I was well into my fourteenth year of life.

For the latter half of my hospitalisation at ' Batley General Hospital' (now a school), I slept in a veranda wing of the hospital with two other long-term patients. One was a seventeen-year-old lad who had Polio (a common condition in the 1950s that globally paralysed and killed half a million people yearly), and the other man had broken his back in a fall and would never walk again. Veranda patients were always the ones with more extensive injuries, and who was presumably assessed as being in need of more rest than the general run-of-the-mill everyday patient. Thus, the three star patients of the 'Veranda Wing' included two who would never walk again and one whose body would be left twisted and distorted, and destined to die much earlier than the normal lifespan.

Brian (the polio patient), should have been isolated in his own ward but stayed in the Veranda Wing of the hospital. He was separated from myself and Terry, (the patient with the broken back in a full plaster body cast from neck to waist) by the constant isolation of no more than a netted surround around his bed. The greatest privilege about being a Veranda patient was having our own television set, whereas the rest of the big ward had to share theirs between forty patients; which essentially meant that unless you were fit enough to get out of bed, you never saw it and only heard it from a distance!

One night, one of the night nurses asked if she could watch the television quietly at 9.00 pm. As pain kept me awake most nights, I had no objection. The nurse was a ballet fan and 'Swan Lake' was being performed by the great Margot Fonteyn de Arias on the twelve-inch black-and-white television screen.

I watched 'Swan Lake' with the young nurse at the side of my bed. She looked spellbound from start to finish. There was a poignancy about the whole episode, with my legs having been severely shattered, along with having incurred a spinal injury and a medical prognosis that I would never walk again. As the nurse watched the ballet dancers glide, pirouette and leap through the air, I started to cry, knowing that dancing would never be on my cards again.

As I watched the ballet dancing that night, I soon became enthralled by the intricacy of the movements, along with the agility and strength of the dancer's leg muscles. I thought that Margot's movement reflected all that was divine. I knew then, that dance was no less than the highest art form; an expression of the body that no words can ever describe and no emotion ever deny. It holds itself in perfect poise and posture and its beauty moves in curves and contours of the spirit.

When I look back on that night when the attractive young nurse sat beside my bedside and I now think about my love of dance, I sometimes wonder whether it was my infatuation with the nurse's presence or Forteyn's grace of movement that made the occasion one I've never forgotten.

I was in the hospital almost nine months and it wasn't until three years later I got movement of my lower body and legs back, just about that time that rock and roll entered the British scene. Because all movement of rock and roll was free and wild in its expression, I found that I was eventually able to take to the floor again without seeming to be out of step, as I learned to bop and gyrate the night away with the best of them. After meeting my wife Sheila in 2010, I renewed my interest in Rock and Roll, and for the following three years, we visited a Rock and Roll Club in Batley weekly. Sadly, gradual immobility started to creep back into my life and worsened after I contracted terminal blood cancer in early 2012. My ill-health depleted my energy levels and meant no more rock and roll for me. The spirit was willing to take to the floor but the flesh was weak. Even though I can no longer move my legs on the dance floor to the rhythm of the beat, my feet continue to tap each time the music plays. Also, since I commenced regular singing practice, I am slowly teaching my vocal cords to dance to my beat of life.

Though it is over sixty years now since I first saw Dame Margot perform Swan Lake, her perfect poise and grace of movement will never escape my mind until the day I die. A few times in my life since, I have been tempted to see Swan Lake performed by the finest of ballet companies, but haven't. I essentially feared that if I did, I would mar that special memory of 1954 in the quiet of night with a beautiful nurse at the side of my bed in the Veranda Wing of the old Batley Hospital. " 
​Love and peace Bill xxx
https://youtu.be/AQKF_eVvytY



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Thought for September 15th.

15/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Common logic would seem to indicate that mankind would find it a cruel joke of nature were we to find ourselves attracted to people very much unlike us or even the very opposite to us. It would seem a lot easier and far less messy if we tended to be drawn to those whose personalities are more like our own than those who seem like they are polar opposites to us. Especially as we humans see ourselves as the correct way to be and naturally feel more comfortable in the presence of others like ourselves. Where the tendency to persuade and influence exists, we try to make the other person like ourselves, rather than vice versa.

But consider the possibility that those differences that can seem potentially problematic may actually prove to be the very things that add passion and spice to your relationship, particularly its sexual aspects. It is unfulfilled needs and desires that essentially draw us to others, such as to experience greater connection, love, security, support, comfort and reassurance. On the other hand, however, some of these unfulfilled longings have to do with their polar opposites being absent from our lives; like a need for adventure, risk, freedom, challenge and emotional intensity. While these needs and desires may appear to be mutually exclusive, not only can they co-exist with each other, but in the process of their cohabitation, they generate a 'tension of the opposites' that produces a passion that deepens, sustains, and even enlivens relationships.

While security, safety, closeness and comfort are certain qualities that characterise the search for all fulfilling relationships; without the provision of a balance of excitement, passion, adventure, uncertainty, risk, and even a certain degree of separateness, the potential of remaining unfulfilled will most likely be present after the honeymoon phase of marriage has faded and become a little threadbare. In such circumstances, security becomes boredom, dependability becomes indifference, comfort can even transform into stagnation and unwanted intimacy starts to suffocate the partner trying to break free and breathe life anew.

Still, the vast majority of us will tend to marry people like ourselves and reinforce this paired image in their offspring that follow them, despite opposite personalities holding out the prospect of greater attraction. I know that I would prefer to be married to someone opposite in trait to me for one month rather than share the same routine life day in and day out living alongside someone that was my mirror resemblance.

Those who marry partners of identical character traits and similar taste eventually reveal their inbred tendencies by conceiving one of life's unnatural conundrums. The longer their marriage exists, the more like each other the couple grow and the shared mannerisms they gradually adopt. It is not unheard of for such couples to have a pet that displays their prominent trait or a dog that grows to look like them.

Just to strengthen my argument, I would cite the choice of lover that an unhappy married person will usually make when/if they have an extra-marital affair. Take for instance any man or woman who finds themselves in a queue of a self-service eating establishment like a motorway restaurant, selecting the food they want and getting to the end of the queue to pay for their meal. I cannot imagine most people progressing from the start to the end of the queue without having a glance at the food on another's tray along the way. If you are the type to glance at the food on another's plate, you are also the type capable of eating from it if the need ever arose resulting from your failing marriage. Such people engaging in an extra-marital affair, if they decide to take a 'second helping', not having been able to happily swallow all they have had to eat since they first wed, are most unlikely to repeat the recipe for failure 'by having an affair with someone like the person they are cheating on; the person who does not make them happy!'

Of course, if they are going to risk every bit of security they possess in their marriage, they are most unlikely to do so for someone who cannot make the ground beneath them shake with excitement, passion, adventure, the intensity of feeling and with the frisson of risk. It is these very opposites they have come to crave the taste of in making them feel alive again.

And yet, few affairs, especially where children already exist, rarely last before yearning for security and all those other characteristics return; those ones once found in one's spouse of likeness. Such dependable traits of character start to look attractive once more.

Given what I know today, I would have to say far better to marry, and far more likely to stay happily married one is when one marries someone whose diversities they can respect and whose similarities they can love. Get this combination right and one achieves the perfect recipe for a contented couple, and never again will you enter a self-service establishment and before reaching the end of the queue, look at the food on another's plate!"
​Love and peace Bill xxx.

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Thought for September 14th.

14/9/2018

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Thought for today:
" Good relationships between man and woman, man and man, don't come about by mere chance; they have to be nourished, maintained and worked for. I often think that if partners wanted to increase the length and quality of their relationship together, they would do well to cuddle more often. I also think that such a philosophy would be good for all people throughout this world of fragile security of mind. Below is a poem of mine that advocates increased care and concern for what we do in this world, how and why we do it, and to whom?


'If Carrots Cuddled': Copyright William Forde: September. 2018.

'If consumers cared and carrots cuddled, then balance and health would easily be restored in an ever-growing non-green world of climate destruction.

If clowns laughed and cried with makeup off and make-up on, then all might know their present mood and be able to both laugh and cry with them in support of their true nature.

If no kiss ever lingered beyond love's natural life, but instead fended off the blow of vengeful Brutus, then poisoned lips would never pass the chalice of deceit and contempt betwixt wife and mistress of heart's desire.

For it is well known fact that no man or woman ever knew a love profound; a love so powerful that moved the very ground that shook the earth below; no sweetheart ever smelled a lover as sweet as honey on a spoon or saw a star above so bright it lit the moon of earthly temptation and eternal bliss, redemption and salvation, who couldn't cuddle like two carrots in lasting love.
Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 13th.

13/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"The Victorian age with its women's waif-like waistlines of 18 inches and its pear-shaped hips adorning all adorable and desirable beauties of the fairer sex has much more to answer for in the annals of British history than all the colonisation and exploitation of its Commonwealth and overseas territories.

Often, one of the gravest exploitation in society spring from mankind's desire to shape the pattern of 'ideal' womanhood and the image of 'female perfection'. Great Britain has ironically been able to right other wrongs it has done in its past, but with regard to the wrong it has done to women, it has been a tortoise of the progressive movement.

Even Great Britain, at the height of its supreme power, when we colonised and governed two-thirds of the globe and ruled the seas eventually saw the injustice of slavery and colonisation, and after developing an international conscience, we outlawed slavery and granted dependent colonies their freedom. However, when it comes to granting our women comparable freedoms and equality with the men in society, we have been sadly lacking in political will to change/reform as quickly as we ought to instead of merely paying lip service. We have undoubtedly enshrined in law, society's adoption of a politically correct language towards women, yet such reform is often merely cosmetic as male thoughts and inner desires secretly remain as they have done for centuries. For instance, why the need to have a discussion on the obvious wrongness of 'Upskirting' today when a similar action perpetrated by women against men would not go unpunished. Can you possibly imagine loose women being able to pull down a man's trousers in public and take a photograph of his private regions, and get away with it?

I recently had access to a few magazines that literally shocked my senses. I refer not to those 'top-shelf men-mags' that are often found within the reach of most testosterone-driven teenagers, but those magazines that seemingly cater for the tastes and interests of young girls and 'teeny weenies' who have hardly been long enough upon the voyage of puberty to recognise the many masculine snares along the way.

However much these magazines for young girls tend to dress it up, their underlying message of promotional female fashion is, 'less means more' in the beauty stakes of male desirability. No wonder that the incidence of young girls dieting and being preoccupied by their weight and shape is daily increasing, and that the young girl who carries those few extra pounds around her waistline is the butt of peer bullying and self-deprecation, even in the playground of infants as well as on the mobile messages/images sent by their taunting teenage peers to one another.

Over the past ten years, Great Britain and the U.S.A. have been beset by an obesity crisis that threatens increased deaths at earlier ages and total depletion of health budgets. And not only does this bode badly in health terms for many overweight girls and boys, but those girls who previously were preoccupied maintaining a slim figure have tended to become even more obsessive by not overeating.

For any family member who has ever experienced the physical and emotional trauma of having to cope with the self-starvation of any daughter, sister or niece displaying anorexia, they will know how hard the condition is to overcome and control. To have one's teenage child stood there as thin as an inmate from Auschwitz Concentration Camp while they genuinely believe themselves to be too fat and ugly is not an experience that any parent should ever have to face. To have to bury one's child before they have reached the age of maturity is an experience beyond the realms of parental endurance.

Isn't it time that fairness for all, justice for everyone and universal law banished all manner of inequality between the sexes? Isn't it time to stop this nonsense, time that all wafer-thin models were consigned to the bin of past indignity. Why won't Parliament legislate against treating our young girls with inferior expectations to those experienced by our sons? Why don't we banish those expensive, silly-girly magazines and all television and media advertising which inappropriately sexualises and debases the image of females?

I cannot believe that a comparable 'sexualisation' of males in society would ever have been seriously considered, let alone tolerated and promoted. Let's cut it out once and for all!"
​Love and peace Bill xxx
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Thought for September 12th.

12/9/2018

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​Thought for today:
"Today's poem describes a young boy searching for the sense in war, whom despite the bravery and patriotism of his beloved father serving and fighting in foreign lands, is determined never to don the uniform of a soldier and to remain a devout pacifist and peace lover until the day he dies.

'Pacifist of Perfect Peace' by William Forde
Copyright William Forde: September 12th, 2018.


'If visiting hours heaven had,
you'd see me every day.
handing out arms and legs to amputees
and hands and hearts to pray
for peace to spread across the world
and touch down in every land,
to see children laugh and play all day,
not have to understand
the senseless violence, the midnight screams
of hurt, shock, death and pain,
to look up at the night-time sky just to see it rain
down bombs and bullets as they lie frightened in their bed,
while homes are bombed and blown to bits
with a searching torch of infrared.


Please let my daddy home again, don't let him die on foreign ground,
all alone in pools of blood, surrounded by the cold and cruelty
of blind and indifferent humanity
I love you, daddy, you know I do,
there's almost nothing I wouldn't do for you,
except to kill for flag and country
and rob another child of a daddy too.'


William Forde: September 12th, 2018. Copyright, 2018.
Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 11th.

11/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"There are many ways to persuade a good-looking woman who has never held a hot rod in her life to go fishing with a man on a sunny afternoon.

I remember from my days of youth, a saying that my mother told all her boys and girls without fail whenever we left the house. 'Never leave the house without wearing clean underpants and knickers. You never know what will happen and I don't intend being shown up if you have an accident and the ambulance man has to rip off your clothes in public to get to the wound!'

My reading of history over many years informs me that it is only a few centuries ago that women started wearing today's equivalent to knickers next to their skin and up until the early 1950s, most males from working-class backgrounds did not experience the luxury of wearing underpants, at least during the working week.

Virtually no man would feel properly dressed today without a clean pair of kecks wrapped around his thighs and private parts unless of course he was going on a fishing trip to make a perfect partner catch and wanted to make use of the best bait and tackle in his toolkit to give him the edge. There again, I suppose there's something to say for 'Going Commando' for certain guys for whom the boot fits."
​Love and peace Bill xxx


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Thought for September 10th.

10/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Today is my son, Matt's 44th birthday. I wish you a very happy birthday, Matt. All my children are special in their own way and I love each of them for their many different qualities. I have always considered our Matt, perhaps my most special of children. He came into my life at the age of three years as my step-son when I married his mother. Since that moment though, he has been as much a son that any father could ever wish for. From all my children, he is the only one never to have spoken back to me or challenged my authority when he was young. Whenever Father's Day or my birthday comes around, his is the first card and present to come through the door,

Matt's development wasn't the easiest that any child could have. He was always what they used to term 'slow' at school and was invariably a number of years behind his peers in educational attainment. Yet, since starting work in his late teens, I can never recall a time when he was out of work in his factory job. Indeed, for the past fifteen years plus, he has held down work when others in his firm were being made redundant. He has also owned his own terraced house and is able to manage his outgoings and household expenses with occasional oversight from his mother.

Matt is a loveable person who is always the last to offend another, and never then intentionally. He is a gentle giant who stands head and shoulder above his peers when it comes to caring, gentleness, politeness and consideration of other's feelings. His greatest blessing since he came into my life is that he has always had two dads who love him dearly. His blood father is the best of dads and I have never tried to usurp his role in Matt's life. This has obviously helped Matt readjust to his parent's separation and divorce as a child.

Matt, in every older person, is a younger person wondering, 'what the hell happened?' What happened to you son since we first met was that you have become a better person each day you have lived. I will leave you to enjoy this birthday revealing the secret I learned many years ago when I passed my forties of how to stay forever young: live honestly, eat slowly, fart in private and above all, lie about your age.

A very happy birthday Matt on this your special day. May your day be filled with much love, happiness, peace and generosity, Dad Bill xxx"
​Love and peace Bill xxx


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Thought for September 9th.

9/9/2018

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​
"Thought for today:
"Imagine any year without the months of late September or October to grace it after summer has collapsed into fall and the last smile of Nature's year is seen within faded woods, amid autumnal wind that scatters woodland leaves across October's floor.

I love all four seasons, They each possess their own spell upon my senses and wonderment. Both spring and autumn represent to me both start and slow down of the year and remind me very much of human life in progress; the growth spurt of a child born new into the world gradually being transformed to seasonal settledness.

Just as spring is a time to look forward to the year ahead, the autumn is a time to take stock of what has passed and to prepare for the season yet to come. It is a time to rejoice in the splendour of what the surrounding environment has yet to offer before all the trees shed their colourful leaves and many of the woodland animals prepare to hibernate.

Soon the days will grow ever shorter and colder after the Autumnal Equinox on September 21st, and the nights will draw down sooner. Before we realise it, another Christmas and brand New Year will be upon us once more as visits by family members and seasonal get-togethers with friends who we only meet up with occasionally are pleasurably anticipated.

When my children were young, I would take them up to Hopton Woods in Mirfield every weekend. I will never forget the very first time their little feet scattered the fallen leaves and made them airborne amidst whoops of glee. One of my regular sayings to them as autumn approached annually was, 'When the leaves are falling, that's when autumn comes a calling'. I never knew why I grammatically inserted an inaccurate 'a', saying 'comes a calling' instead of 'comes calling', but it always sounded better that way.

My daughter Rebecca grew attached to a particular growing sapling of a copper beech in Hopton Wood as a four-year-old and to cement the memory for me in old age and for her in her own old age when that time arrives, I arranged for an up-and-coming artist then, Bruce McCulloch of Dewsbury, to go into Hopton Wood and paint the growing tree as it then was. It was at the outset of one autumnal season many years ago. Bruce did all his landscape paintings like Van Gogh, outdoors in all weathers. His prominence since has since increased the value of the £300 price tag I then paid for his work thirty years ago, eightfold. Bruce now commands over £2000 for every good-sized painting he does. More important though than all the money the painting might command today is that memory of an autumn day spent with her dad and siblings, captured over thirty years ago to recall by my daughter when she no longer has the legs to move from her rocking chair of old age.

This year, Sheila and I hope to have built all our retaining walls in our allotment before the cold weather sets in. I feel sure that it's the abundance of fresh air outside in the allotment this year that has made me feel better than all the preceding five years since I learned I had a terminal blood cancer. I look forward to seeing the last vestiges of autumn in our allotment where we planted our very own Christmas tree last year to remind us of the winter to follow.

I will end today's post of mine with the wonderful words of the poet John Donne when he wrote, 'No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face': Elergy 1X: The Autumnal."
​Love and peace Bill xxx

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Thought for September 8th.

8/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"The train of life rarely remains on track forever without needing some sort of overhaul or repair. Like the human body, run it too long and too hard and it will show signs of wear until breakdown is in the offing.

Our behaviour and response pattern to life's events are controlled by our thinking, feeling and doing components of our behaviour. Whenever there is a breakdown in the sequence of thought, emotion and action, our body comes into turmoil and our health is automatically affected for the worse. Confusion of thought, unsettledness of feeling and uncertainty/inappropriateness of action emerges, resulting in increased anxiety and tension, irritability and loss of sleep at one end of the spectrum and emotional instability, mental breakdown, self-harm and even suicidal thoughts at the other end of the scale.

I look at the crazy and frenetic lives that people lead without giving their mind time to think, take stock or pause for breath. I know a number of people who behave like the proverbial 'workhorse' and go through their busy day without taking a break. They are rarely thought better of for displaying such behaviour and are more likely to be taken for granted and taken advantage of instead. When I was a Probation Officer, many colleagues worked through their lunch hour without stopping. Such people have to give themselves permission to stop before they burn out and crash! Often, stopping one's frenetic activity is viewed as a 'privilege' as opposed to that of a 'necessity', and when this state exists, it identifies the mind and body being on a collision course; a crash in the making, just waiting to happen.

Not sleeping properly, losing one's patience easily and forever feeling under pressure are sufficient body signs for you to see the red signal lights and put on the breaks, because if you don't exercise this control, the body will decide for you and force you to stop by allowing the impending collision to occur; thereby imposing the consequences on you.

For fifty years now, I have been a Relaxation Instructor and for twenty of those years, I was also a Stress Management Consultant. Way back in the early 70s, I'd already established the reputation as being one of the country's foremost authorities in the field of relaxation methods. I mention these facts, not to blow my own trumpet of importance, but to illustrate that where the subject of relaxation and stress management is a concern, I am neither a beached whale nor am I spouting hot air.

Let me say that one of the most important signs of excess body stress and tension bordering on ill-health is the lack of good sleep. Over twenty-five years as a group worker involved with helping stressful clients taught me that before I could get them to go in the right direction (ie think straight and adopt healthy behaviours), it was necessary to put them back on the right track. That primarily involved providing them with appropriate advice on good sleeping practices. Getting through one's day for a tired adult is no different than a tired pupil getting through their school day and being able to take in the lesson whilst being half asleep at their school desk.

So during the 70s, I outlaid almost £2000 and ninety hours of my time in a recording studio and produced a 'special relaxation tape', that I could freely give to group clients of stressful behaviour and poor sleeping practices.

At the time of producing my relaxation tape to improve sleeping, there were hundreds of relaxation tapes on the market, with the prime difference being the choice of background music and the nature of the chosen relaxation scene being listened to. I knew that 'wanting' to get a good night's sleep and being constantly tired wasn't the same as being able to get a good night's sleep with an overtired body and an overactive mind. So, I decided to use a hypnotic device called 'auto-suggestion' to help switch off the stressed person's overactive thought processes and switch them onto a different track of thought to help them get off to sleep. Without getting too complicated in my explanation, simply let me say that the message I give on my relaxation tape and the instructions I ask the listener to follow ' is spoken by me at precisely the same pace of breathing we all employ at the moment we drop off to sleep'. Also the instructions I softly provide to a musical background 'are designed to produce muscle suppleness and increase the sensation of body temperature that mirrors the precise muscle tension release and body heat that is present in a sleeping body'

In short, when a person drops off to sleep; when they are in deep sleep and have an unbroken and untroubled sleep, 'their breathing pace and breathing pattern, along with their body temperature, and body heaviness and muscle suppleness is of a certain required order'. By simply reversing the natural process of good sleep, my relaxation tape encourages developing the presence of precise sleeping conditions, which then automatically sends the tape listener to sleep. Because I change mid-tape from giving instructions to the trainee's body in my voice to one of asking them to give their own body instructions, we can say that any prior hypnotic effect is transformed to auto-suggestion (ie self- hypnosis).

I enclose my relaxation tape from my website that works on the principle of 'auto-suggestion' and where my speech is paced to the natural heart rate of 'going off to sleep.' This tape was professionally produced almost 40 years ago and has proved highly effective with thousands of people using it. I was offered £10,000 in the 70s to sell its copyright by a company producing relaxation tapes but declined. The tape was not produced to make me money and has never been sold. Instead, it was always given freely to between 7,000 and 10,000 stressful recipients over the past forty years. Today, physical copies do not need producing by me as they can be freely downloaded from my website or even listened to on a mobile phone. As the tape is now forty-five years old, it reveals how advanced its quality production was back in the 1970s.

The tape should never be played while driving or performing any other precision task. It was produced as a gift to society by me during a previous life-threatening period in late 1970. Pregnant women, persons with any kind of brain abnormality or people with very low blood pressure levels 'Should Not Use This Tape'.

For general relaxation purpose, find a comfortable chair and place to relax where you will not be interrupted, close your eyes, listen to the tape and follow the instructions, particularly the ones related to breathing patterns, self-statements and imagined scenes. Half an hour daily is recommended. If you want to use the tape to improve your sleeping practices, put the tape on when you are in bed and follow the same process as previously outlined. Usually, someone in bed rarely gets to the end of the tape without first having fallen asleep. It usually takes about one month of daily practice to achieve the required results and daily practice thereafter makes the process work quicker, better and more automatically. In short, practise using the tape daily and sleep can eventually be induced within five minutes of hitting the pillow. I have also used this relaxation process to deal with my pain since childhood from numerous operations and have found it a boon since my heart condition prevents normal operations, which have to be treated locally whereby I remain conscious throughout.

If you find it helpful, please pass on access details to others who might benefit. http://www.fordefables.co.uk/relax-with-bill.html"
Love and peace Bill xxx
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Thought for September 7th.

7/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"They do say that a photo is worth a thousand words. Sometimes things, in reality, are how we see them but more often than not, however, real life is rarely reflected in the superficial interpretation of the outward image.

I have five children; each one as different as chalk and cheese to the other four. I love them all as I know they love each other, and yet, despite three of them have been around now for over forty years and two for over thirty years, as time goes by I often have to ask myself, 'Just how well do I really know any of them?' I don't know what goes on in their heads, what their ultimate life goal is apart from hanging in there as long as possible and seeking their own particular brand of happiness and contentment with their own families, partners, friends or even themselves. I know they love each other and they seem to get along with each other well enough, but like all siblings, I know they speak about one another behind each other's back from time to time. The one thing I am certain of about all my children; the one thing I know they share is the love of their parents and siblings, and a particular concern for my health since I contracted a terminal blood cancer six years ago.

The above photograph shows all my children over thirty years ago helping me build an entrance to the front porch of an old house I lived in and spent every weekend of the first seven years renovating. The major thing all my children share is a work ethos that I instilled into them before they were seven years old and which they still retain.

Before I digress to another topic, I wish my son, Adam a very happy 42nd birthday today. Adam is the one on the extreme left of the photograph. He has had a somewhat hectic year to say the least. During it, he became a parent himself, he has experienced a few hard knocks, and like all of us, 'time out' has been needed to reassess and take stock of where he's at, where he's going and what's the best way of getting there. Like all concerned parents who love their offspring, I have to sit back helpless to significantly intervene and just hope and pray that it proves possible that he arrives at a destination he can reconcile himself and live with. Have a good and peaceful day, Adam, and know that you are dearly loved by your parents and siblings.

I once remember reading a saying by a former Daily Mail columnist, Ann Leslie, whose insight into many topics, regional, national and international was greatly respected worldwide during a distinguished career that witnessed her being showered with numerous accolades and awards for her work, along with a D.B.E. in 2006. Ann once wrote, 'Things are invariably the opposite to what they seem to be!' Since reading that description, I have to agree with Ann's observations, not always but more often than not I'd say.

All of us are influenced and persuaded by first impressions and imagery, however much we find the thought both distasteful and disrespectful to our powers of discernment. How many of us think either 'good' or 'bad' of someone, only to find when the chips are down and you need help that your rescuer was the last person you imagined it would have been, while the one you thought it would be was nowhere to be seen in your time of need? Couples who divorce and married friends who lose their spouse to death often find that their 'considered friends' quickly disappear from their lives after the life-changing event changes the dynamics in their life from two persons to one. We should never forget that it is after the divorce from or death of one's partner that one needs help and contact more than before to healthily readjust, not less!

I also remember when I was a mill manager overseeing fifty men on the night shift at a finishing mill in Cleckheaton. On the night in question, one of the machines that stretched the cloth which was operated by one man at each end, damaged 100 yards of expensive cloth before it could be switched off. One of the two machine's operators was clearly to blame but both denied the fault. Indeed, each operator said that it had been the fault of the other man at the other end. One man was not very well liked by the other workers while the other man was probably the most popular person in the mill whom everyone respected. Naturally, it was the most popular operator whose account was believed and the unpopular worker was held responsible for the damage and sacked. It was two weeks after this incident that another employee on the night shift who had witnessed the incident first hand but had kept quiet about it at the time started to have a guilty conscience and revealed that the wrong man had been blamed for the damage and sacked. Just because one of the two men was infinitely more likeable than the other, his account of the incident was naturally more believable than the account of the other man!

I will never forget my next door neighbour in Mirfield, called Brian. Brian was an eccentric man of single status who lived in a very large bungalow alone and never spoke to the other neighbours. He didn't recognise Christmas as a festive occasion and one year when we invited him to share our Family Christmas Dinner, he just said 'No! I don't like Christmas' and closed his door in my face without a 'but thank you for asking'. Over the years ahead, Brian rebuffed all my attempts to be cordial and friendly with him. Indeed, he even went out of his way to be as difficult a neighbour as he could be. He had built his oversized bungalow half himself on a shoestring budget and had skimped on his sewage and drainage work needed. For over one year, our property was subject to excessive damp that cost over £10,000 to clear plus an infestation of vermin from the main sewer he had accidentally broken.

For the first five years of being neighbours, he essentially became 'the neighbour from hell' in my life and letters between his solicitor and mine were a frequent source of my weekend reading. Brian was, to all accounts the only person I'd never seen smile or hear him say one good word about another. most eccentric of creatures who one rarely saw with a smile on his face or heard a good word slip from his mouth about another. He had no friends I ever knew of and lived a hermit's existence in an eight-roomed bungalow that contained six concrete-built cellars where he daily practised his shooting skills with his many firearms. He was the member of a rifle club in Mirfield but was said to be unpopular there also. This was around the time of 'The Hungerford Massacres' in 1987 when an unhinged man went around his village shooting and killing everyone he saw which included seventeen people and a dog.

One morning, a new washer we had bought caught fire with an electrical fault. Fortunately, I was at home at the time, having retired the prior year from my job on the grounds of ill health. Within five minutes of spotting the fire that had started behind the enclosed kitchen-fitted doors to conceal the device, smoke was pervading the lower floor of our house. Concealing washers then was a fashion of the time, designed to make one's kitchen look neater. The chief fireman told me, however, that enclosing washers behind kitchen fitted doors should never be allowed as it only advances a fire once it has started.

The fire in the kitchen was mere minutes away from engulfing the ceiling and burning down the whole house. All downstairs was gutted and fire-damaged and for three weeks, my wife and children had to move into a hotel to live while we got rid of the terrible smell of burning and start to tidy up the horrible mess left by the fire and the water used to put it out. At the time, I had five neighbours; four of whom I would have considered the very best of neighbours and Brian, who would often cross the street whenever I approached him in town so that he wouldn't have to speak to me.

Over the two to three weeks it took me to clean up the mess, not one of my four 'good neighbours' offered to help. Yet, on the very evening of the fire, I had a knock on my fire-charred door and opened it to find Brian standing there. He said,' I'm sorry to hear of the fire you had today and although I am on the night shift on the railway, I can come and help you clear up every morning between 9.00am and noon before I try to catch some sleep. Despite being gobsmacked by his genuine concern and generous and totally unexpected offer of help, I was humbled by his willingness to forgive and forget. I thanked him, shook his hand and he left to attend his employment. Brian proved to be as good as his word and he helped me daily without fail for the remainder of that month until we had cleared up the mess enough so that the other workers could start the repair jobs required. I have since left the neighbourhood of Mirfield, as has Brian, but despite 'first impressions', he turned out to be the best neighbour any man could have. God bless you, Brian, wherever you are.
It is not uncommon for a person to look a picture of health on the outside, yet be dying inwardly. As Ann Leslie said, things are invariably the opposite of what they appear to be, especially when an inward condition is being interpreted through an outward source. Sometimes people laugh and giggle when they are in fact very nervous about the outcome. A person may appear to be the life and soul of every party or gathering they attend, and yet live such a lonely life for the vast majority of their time when they see nobody. Just because the clown laughs doesn't mean he is a happy person and just because something has been stolen and there are only two plausible suspects, doesn't make the one with the criminal record for theft the actual thief!

I don't know, but I'm willing to bet that during the course of my life that even though I have always tried to live compassionately and fairly among my fellow beings, I have unknowingly misjudged many more people of 'bad character' than I have misjudged those of considered 'good character'.

We tend to overlook the obvious in the pursuit of our prejudices; hence the advice 'not to judge' seems ever more sensible an axiom to follow whenever outward appearance is all there is to go on."
​Love and peace Bill xxx



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Thought for September 6th.

6/9/2018

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Thought for today:
"Had I the gift of a 'Field of Dreams', I would house within it everyone who I'd ever loved and who'd significantly influenced my life and behaviour for the better.

In its corners would stand the four most meaningful places I have ever known; my most influential places of geographical significance. These are the places that are as much a part of me today, my thoughts, my actions and my hopes as they were then. They would include Portlaw in County Waterford, Ireland (the place of my birth): Windy Bank Estate in Liversedge, West Yorkshire, England (the council estate where my formative years as a child, teenager and young adult were spent): Toronto in Canada (where I met my first love and discovered the sheer exhilaration that can only be found in adventure, daring and freedom), and finally Howarth in West Yorkshire (where I found my last love in my beautiful wife, lover and soul mate, Sheila, and where lies the ashes of Lady our Rough Collie and Mum Elizabeth). Part of my ashes will also be placed there when my time comes.

Also in Haworth, would be the precise location where my Field of Dreams would dwell. It would be within our allotment that Sheila and I have worked side-by-side over the past years, This is where my 'Field of Dreams' took root and was eventually established. Having a terminal blood cancer and no effective immune system renders assemblies of people in more than two or three at a time dangerous in my presence. Our allotment, therefore, has become my haven and refuge, immersed in surrounding sounds and smells of birds, butterflies, flowers, vegetables and nature instead of possibly infectious humans. It is in our allotment that for the past two years, in particular, I have done my most thinking, remembering and formulation of my future aspirations. This is the one place, along with my home and my church where life assumes a perspective and clarity of purpose that provides a sense of security and contentment that cannot be rivalled; especially as my wife Sheila is everpresent in all three places.

Enclosed also within my 'Field of Dreams' would be my 'Re-experience Transporter'; a device that has recorded for posterity every happy thing I ever did or had done to me since my birth 75 years ago.

There would also be a section of my 'Field of Dreams' reserved to remind me of the best lessons I ever learned and the worst mistakes I ever made, the kindest things I ever did and the unintentionally cruellest. As the greatest sin of my life has probably been one of 'Pride', I need to be constantly reminded of the faults I have and the mistakes I've made, along with my better characteristics and good works.

Had I such a field to fill, it would naturally have within it my 'Treasure Box' that would contain all the feelings, beliefs and hopes, and their associated experiences, people and places attached to them that added to my constant sense of security, confidence, well-being and happiness. I strongly feel that these contrasts in one's behaviour are necessary to remind one that there is 'weakness' and 'strength', along with both 'good' and 'bad' in everyone.

All around my 'Field of Dreams' would stand my family; all of the Fordes and Fannings extending back to the Irish Potato Famine. My family would form a protective shield around me from cradle to grave and provide me with a history that shaped and reinforced my identity as an individual of worth. This family bond would also provide a love and measure of hope so strong that no amount of personal disappointment could ever weaken.

At the very heart of my 'Field of Dreams' would be a small dance area with a floral floor. This sacred place would be exclusively for having my last dance with my wife, lover and soulmate, Sheila when the time comes."
Love and peace Bill xxx

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