FordeFables
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      • Rebecca's Revenge
      • Come Back Peter
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      • 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
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      • A Day with Hannah Hauxwell
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      • The One That Got Away
      • Two Women of Substance
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May 31st, 2016.

31/5/2016

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stillThought for today:
"I have always had a fascination as to why some people live to be a hundred years old and beyond, whereas the vast majority of us will have shuffled off our mortal coil a good twenty years earlier. Some say it's to do with what you eat, others say where you happen to live and many more say it's all down to how you live. 


I once knew an old lady called Etta who became my mother substitute after my own mum had passed away. Etta lived to 94 years of life and never married. She put her longevity down to never having had the stress of marriage and motherhood; though this status is one she would have truly welcomed had her sweetheart not been killed during the Second World War. She also swore by keeping to her daily routine and never being out of bed after 10pm or still in it after 6am. 

Conversely. the late Earl of Harewood (7th Earl, George Lascelles), with whom I was friends during the last fifteen years of his life, along with his wife the Countess, read from my books to Yorkshire schools on three occasions. This cousin to the monarch once told me that most aristocrats live lengthy lives because they rarely rise before noon and live the life of Riley when they do. This explanation seemed to be diametrically opposed to the 'early to bed and early to rise' philosophy that Etta espoused.

So it seems that there is little consensus as to how best to ensure getting a birthday card from Queen Elizabeth, unless of course you happen to be her first cousin like the Earl of Harewood and get one anyway, whatever your age!

My own views on old age come from quotes, books I've read, people I've known and experiences I've had. In my seventy three years to date, I believe that none are so old as those who have outgrown their youth. One should never consider oneself too old to live life to the full or too old to jump in puddles for the sheer hell of it, or pull faces at life. You will start to see the signs of old age creeping up on you when you stop getting the urge to throw another snowball. As Bernard Shaw remarked, 'You don't stop laughing when you grow old; you grow old when you stop laughing.'

We all strive to be courageous, but we cannot develop courage by merely willing it. We develop courage by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity with a degree of positivity that dilutes its worse effects to manageable proportion. The beauty of the above woman in the photograph lies not in any facial mole, but is reflected in her soul. It is in the caring she gave her children, husband and family members throughout her life. It is in the passion of her simplest pleasures. Her face is richly marked with the lines of life which have naturally formed there by years of love and laughter, along with times of suffering and tears. It is beautiful! Her life is beautiful! She is beautiful!


For my part, ever since I was first informed three ago that I had a terminal illness, I have grown older more gracefully. And do you know the strangest thing of all? The longer I live, the more beautiful life becomes and the sweeter all creatures, nature and all new experiences seem to me. So as the poet Robert Browning exhorted, 'Grow old with me. The best is yet to be!'" William Forde: May 31st, 2016.

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May 29th, 2016.

29/5/2016

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Thought for today:
"Sheila and I have just returned from a week's holiday break on the Greek island of Crete. While unfortunately, the chest infection I have been fighting off for the past ten weeks worsened again and confined me to bed for two days of non-stop coughing, I treasured the five days that I was able to get out and enjoy the island and I  am eager to return at a future date, God willing. As I wanted and needed a complete break, I decided to cut myself off from my usual world and daily activities. For the first time in the past four years, I missed seven 'Thoughts for Today' on my Facebook post. I deliberately left my watch, phone and lap top at home, I refused to read a newspaper or watch television and for all I knew, David Cameron and Nigel Farage had agreed to form a coalition government.

Sheila and I spent a welcomed week in the beautiful village of Stylos, which is snugly nestled between mountains on three sides and the idyllic Cretan Sea coast line on the fourth side. This was our first visit to Crete and we leave with an unforgettable experience of 'another way of life' in which no one hurries.

I had only been in Crete less than a day before I realised that the greatness of Greece lies not in its glorious past, but in the maintenance of its peaceful presence. We were overlooked from the balcony of our rented compartment by high mountains and terraced terrains of olive trees, interspersed with lemon and orange groves, all dressed in an array of more shades of green than I ever knew existed. Just to let the watcher know that humans live on this magic island also, house roof tops can be caught peeping through their branches. The surrounding mountains stand proud in the clear skyline and they shelter and protect all within their embrace in a perfect green silence of ecological stillness.

Access to the mountains by car is often a perilous experience for foreign visitors who have not yet learned the Greek way of riding the middle of the narrow, unmade road. Instead of doing what any sane-minded motorist would consider natural to stay alive (particularly when no vehicle is coming in the opposite direction), the overcautious British driver prefers to place your life at risk by hugging a sheer drop of a thousand-feet at the passenger side of a Left-Hand-Drive vehicle they are wholly unacquainted with, just so not to contravene 'The Highway Code Handbook!' It didn't affect Sheila in the slightest, as she never saw the drop from her side of the car and in truth, if I was to ignore 'the fear factor', I'd have to say that even the Greeks would have admired her sheer bravery as she negotiated the mountain gorges and tried to show how the British driver observes central road lines by never crossing them; even if there is insufficient space for two cars to pass each other without at least one doing a 'Thelma and Louise' over the cliff edge!

​As for those marvellous mountains, they possess a beauty that runs riot in a feast of visual splendour which settles both soul and senses in a feeling of eternal belonging.

Unless we chose to visit the village of Stylos daily which was a mile from our apartment, and had we chosen instead to stay in the apartment, we would have heard no human sound between sunrise and sunset apart from cockerel crows, the bark of a dog, the bleating of goats and the constant song of the birds, who even chirp at a more leisurely pace than British birds. We found the sunny weather of May a thing to be enjoyed, not endured. The people were hospitable without exception and even when we got lost on our way home one night, the cafe owner we asked directions from gave me and Sheila a complimentary drink  while three customers discussed the best way back in their mother tongue. It was almost midnight and we were both ready for bed and facing the realistic prospects of sleeping in the car overnight while parked in the middle of an olive grove. Eventually, the Cafe owner's partner decided where we were staying after Sheila wisely showed him a photograph of the apartment and he kindly escorted us home.

As to the food on offer; magnifico! The sheer variety, taste and value was sufficient to satisfy the pallet of any gourmet and the purse strings of all. The sheer taste of their tomatoes and oranges were the best I ever experienced; even better than the Italian produce we tasted a number of years ago. A Greek salad (considered to be a starter or a side plate), costs a mere €5 and believe me , is a meal in itself.

Whether or not fate provides me we the opportunity to revisit this beautiful Greek island, I know that my mind will return to it many times during the period ahead. When next a troublesome thought seeks to sneak past my sentry of positivism to unsettle my inner sanctuary of peaceful equilibrium, I shall simply visualise Stylos and know that I am looking at somewhere very special on earth; a country which spins on its own access of peace and a people who believe in 'letting things be.' William Forde: May 29th, 2016.


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May 21st, 2016

22/5/2016

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Thought for today:

"If it was curiosity that killed the cat, I am sure that it was the one certain thing that coached the child in their learning of life. The future belongs to the curious. They are ones who are not afraid to try it, explore it, poke at it, question it and turn it upside down and inside out.

Every child born was designed to ask questions in order to satisfy their curiosity and add to their learning and well being. It is curiosity that sharpens the sense of the world's reality. It represents the art of the possible, a call from knowledge that beckons the unknown child to walk the road of learning. 


Curiosity is a sharpened sense of reality. It represents the art of the possible. Children who exercise their curiosity will not know boredom. Only the curious are rewarded with things to do and answers to find. Their curiosity lies in wait for every secret and is the parent of their attention, just as the absence of child curiosity is no less than a confession of their ignorance. Far better to kill a child at birth than stifle their curiosity and suffocate their imagination.

Every age of man has been provided with a keyhole at which to look through; a sight to satisfy our wanting to know. Even as an adult male, this curiosity never leaves us, but is instead directed to loftier and more adult things of the mind, particularly in hot blooded men when their eyes come to rest on a beautiful woman in a free flowing dress and wearing a smile that requires no explanation to understand its meaning. 
Nothing whets the appetite more than a passionate suspicion of what lies undiscovered." William Forde: May 21st, 2016.
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May 20th, 2016.

20/5/2016

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Thought for today:
"Be not in the slightest doubt that when it comes to downright craftiness and subtlety, woman is the master. The Spanish novelist, Carlos Ruiz Zafon was definitely on the ball when he once described the female heart as 'a labyrinth of subtleties.' 

Once engaged in their master craft, women are far too challenging for the uncouth mind of their male mate. If man really wants to possess woman (assuming such to be ever possible), he must first learn to think like her. He should first capture her mind before trying to win over her soul, for only then will he get to unwrap that sweet, soft bonus that lies beneath that scheming skin of sensual pleasure she calls virtue.

For thousands of years  women of the world have got the upper hand over their opposite number because 'sex and simplicity' became the outcome of their technical strategy. 'Simplicity' was their goal and not their starting point. Marilyn Monroe could play the dumb blonde better than most beauties and she always got her man. Unlike her fawning admirers who believed flattery was best applied with the heaviness of a trowel, all Marilyn had to do to blow their minds away was to innocently stand over a public air vent and to try to stop her dress lifting their spirits too high. Marilyn learned very early on in life that if you need something from someone, always give that person a way to hand it to you. She learned through her dealings with men who craved her body and not her mind, that acting always works best when it's hidden from the audience. I wonder how many more orgasms women have faked than genuine ones experienced in order to make their man feel better than he was! 

So the next time you think you are the head of your household, chaps, think again, only this time think with the brain above your waistline and not the brawn beneath. Women rule the world. They always have and always will and man is but a beast to their beauty and a hopeless cause to their charm." William Forde: May 20th, 2016.
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May 19th, 2016

19/5/2016

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Thought for today:
"We  do well to be at peace with the earth and our surroundings and we do better when we recognise our dependence on each other for birth and survival. Though we may think ourselves small in the grand scale of the planet, we are no less worthy than the stars that light up the sky; no less meaningful in the unfolding of life's grand opera. We are irrevocably linked to creation and cannot get through a single day without having an impact on the world around us or it on us, be it good or bad. Never be in any doubt that what we do or don't do makes a difference to ourselves and our world.

The beauty of the natural world lies in the details of man's nature and impact on it. Any ugliness in the world, man placed there to his undying shame. As mankind sought progress through the centuries, each stride of conquering superiority he strode, each seed of earthly destruction he sowed, he moved not one jot forward, but took a step backwards, away from Earth's Creator. Humans have spent centuries determined to conquer nature, but have finished up, almost beating it to death.

​One receives far more in every walk of nature than one can ever hope to understand. 
I only went out for a walk in the woods, and instead of finding myself going out, I learned that I was going in. Instead of walking forward, I found that I was going back into myself and finding my roots. It was on such a walk that I realised that the environment is where we share a mutual interest with all plants and living things. I try today to walk with nature and not over it; I try not to intrude on its sacred presence in our lives. I take nothing from its soil, but pictures, I leave nothing in its ground, but footsteps and I kill nothing, but time. The deeper I walk into the woods of my past, the more insight I gain about my present. Though I remain highly ashamed of man's action towards innocent creatures and forest life, I found myself unable to charge nature with any such wrong against us. Lets face it, you can't be suspicious of a tree because it stands there offering shade and shelter, or accuse a bird or a fish of subversion of the skies and streams; neither can you challenge the ideology of a primrose flowering in its natural splendour on a river bank.

My walks in nature have taught me that at some point, nature's beauty becomes enough. We need not half the things we have or have any need to eat our fill while others hunger. Money can never buy us happiness or the richest of lifestyles improve our health more than fresh air, exercise and enjoyment of nature can. During my walks through the woods, I am able to see pieces of heaven here on earth. I can see more clearly the inextricable joining of man to the land in which he was born and where finally his remains will rest. After my walk through the woods, my rambles over moors, my ambles down country lanes and my climbing over mountains, I see no material acquisition ever matching my natural pleasure again.

I often think that a child has far more wisdom than man in their innocent travels. I also believe that every child is a born 
a naturalist. Their eyes are, by nature, open to the glories of the stars, the beauty of the flowers, the mysteries of life and the unqualified acceptance of other children who hold no hostility to nature and others.

From Mother Earth we came, her environmental embryo, on the earth we live and to the earth we shall one day return." William Forde: May 19th, 2016
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May 18th, 2016.

18/5/2016

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Thought for today
"We are slowly advancing the pollution of our planet by the practice of deforestation, particularly the cutting down of the rain forest. The tropical rain forest is nature's natural medicine cabinet, without which the capacity to cure will be greatly diminished. Without the increase growth of trees throughout the world, mankind will drastically poison their own air and empty their medicine cabinets. So let us please return to planting trees instead of plundering our planet by cutting them down.

​Trees are a major source of energy on many levels. Physically they help people and the planet by providing oxygen and shade. They can provide shelter and habitats for animals. Some trees also give their fruit and wood to help ensure our survival. There is an energy in trees which many folk feel to be transferable and which can also affect our mental, emotional and spiritual state of being. Consider for example the peace and serenity people feel when they sit under a tree or walk through a forest. And what about the feelings of joy and excitement that children feel when climbing a tree to pick a conker or the magic of spending time in a treehouse? By coming into contact with a tree you will pick up these vibrations whether you are consciously aware of it or not. You begin to resonate with the tree’s energy and you become more centered and grounded. This can help explain the comfort many people feel when next to a tree. Maybe the hippies had the right idea when they advised people to go 'hug a tree.'

The physical characteristics that trees and humans share is scary. We stand upright, have a crown on top and mobile limbs stemming from a central trunk. The pattern of the tubular branches (bronchi) in our lungs is similar to the root system of many trees. Trees like humans are capable of providing security in the form of shelter, along with a sense of place that keeps us rooted to both nature and nurture. Mankind stands taller and becomes more grounded when he harnesses the combined power of nurture and nature.

Trees often assist our spiritual practice that we find essential and helps us to see all manner of life as being a celebration of creation and love. Aside from the Christmas tradition, trees have been involved in a number of religious and spiritual practices since time began. A tree played an important part during the first days of life for Adam and Eve and was also used to make a cross during the last day in the life of Jesus Christ on earth. Indeed, trees are much more entwined with the roots of mankind than we can ever imagine.

Many mythologies around the globe have stories of a 'world or cosmic' tree. The roots, trunk and branches of the tree represent the underworld, earth, and heavens respectively. Even biblical scriptures mention trees as in the 'tree of life' and the 'tree of knowledge of good and evil' in the book of Genesis. Buddhism has connections to the Bodhi tree where Buddha was known to have reached enlightenment as he sat and meditated. Druids and pagans were known to practice worship among sacred groves of trees. Trees have a long and rich history of sharing the spiritual path with humanity.

My first spiritual connection with a tree was during the third night of being hospitalised after having incurred a life threatening accident at the age of 11 years. For over two weeks, because of my extensive injuries, I remained in a hospital side room on my own where I floated in and out of consciousness, somewhere between this life and the next. I heard a doctor tell my parents that I would probably die during the second night of my hospitalisation. As I laid there in pain, I looked outside the room window and being high above ground, all I could see was the crown of an oak tree in full leaf standing there like a sentry of the night watching over me in my sick bed.


Over the next three weeks, my condition was so critical that I received the Last Sacraments seven times. When I did eventually emerge from danger of dying and knew I was alive, I looked out and wondered at the sight of the oak tree, the night sentry that stood alone, 'but lived' outside, in the grounds of Batley Hospital. I was glad to be alive and a large part of me wondered if the tree outside had transferred some of its own life force to myself?

So my message to all is simply, 'Save a tree and know that you save a life!' William Forde: May 18th, 2016.

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May 17th, 2016

17/5/2016

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Thought for today:
"Nobody ever got ahead by sitting on their behinds and dreaming about crickets playing football or frogs floating in sago pudding. Everything we do in life has been done before; all we plan to do today was once the dream of others. My mum tells me that I'm a good girl who deserves to dream her dream. My trouble is that I never believe that I truly belong anywhere, except when I'm laying on my bed, pretending to be somewhere else.

Bother! Bother! Bother and double bother! I'm bored waiting for a little brother to come along and boss. You lot can do what you want to. I'm going to eat a big fat cream bun and become an oversized model!" William Forde: May 17th, 2016
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May 16th, 2016

16/5/2016

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 Thought for today:
"The one thing about letting yourself get so low, is that there is only way you can then go; back up again! As with many addictions and adverse conditions, I believe that one often has to reach rock bottom before the determination to quit one's old lifestyle can exist in strong enough measure to bring about the required change.

Be you a repeat offender, an alcoholic, an obese individual, a drug addict or whatever, it is as though you have to risk the forfeiture of your life, your freedom, your marriage, your health, your home, your family, your job, your happiness, along with all hope and self respect before you are prepared to change.

When we can no longer change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves and the behaviours which support our affliction. Sadly, it is part of the human condition, but often our lives have to come crashing down around us before we are forced to accept that something is drastically wrong and that we need to consider big changes in it.

When we resist a change in the direction our lives demand and continue to muscle through hardships, we become exhausted with the constant need to swim upstream. Change often requires nothing less than turning ourself around and allowing our body to go with the flow. It is only when we have nothing left to lose that we surrender to the current; only then can we see we have nothing to gain by swimming against the tide of common sense. When everything is no longer sure in our lives, only then can anything seem possible.

Changing one's life around is never easy, it requires a great deal of consistency and hard work. People who have succeeded in this often feel that it is better to start again, because stripping things bare can create new possibilities. Too many of us hold on to old wounds as a testament to what we suffered and though we still see the scars, we should make them something we observe instead of something we still feel at the core. Only when things feels right can we be sure that they are right for us.

Accept that just because we reach rock bottom during any stage of our life, does not mean we are destined to stay there. To climb out of the hole we dug for ourselves, we need to observe past mistakes and learn from them. Only then are we able to make rock bottom the solid foundation on which to rebuild our life." William Forde: May 16th, 2016.


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May 15th, 2016.

15/5/2016

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Thought for today:
“Mean words can mean so much to those against whom they are spat. They may only take seconds to voice, but a lifetime to internalise. I have known numerous adults still affected by the verbal taunts and bullying they received as a child at school, twenty and even thirty years after they’ve been callously thrown at the victim. They pierce the body like a wrapping of barbwire and replay in the mind of the plagued adult like a stuck gramophone needle that stubbornly refuses to move on, spiking a sense of remembered pain.

During my life as a Probation Officer, I was to meet so many adults (mostly female, but not exclusively so), who still bore the pain of name calling they endured at school as a child or teenager. It is not unusual today to hear about the tragic death of some young girl or boy who found it easier to take their own life then have to face the verbal abuse of their peers a moment longer.

Unfortunately there will always be someone willing to hurt you, put you down, gossip about you, belittle your accomplishments and judge you. It is a fact that we all must face, but none of this makes it acceptable or easier for the person in the firing line, especially if they keep quiet about the bullying that is taking place and tries to deal with it themselves.

When name calling isn't successfully dealt with or resolved in childhood, it can mushroom into insidious threats in adult life, especially for the female. Sometimes that bullied person will retreat into themselves and become one of life's pushovers, and sometimes they may over-react to prior experiences and go on to become a parent and bully their own child mercilessly!

While often it is the boys who set the trap for bullying, girls are often foolishly used to push the victim (usually other girls) into it in a collusion of the cruelest of peer pressure.

I will never forget reading a novel by Fannie Flagg in the late 80s called 'Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe' in which one of the characters feared how others would see her if she did not conform to what was expected of her, particularly the judgement of men:
 
'She had stayed a virgin so she wouldn't be called a tramp or a slut; had married so she wouldn't be called an old maid; faked orgasms so she wouldn't be called frigid; had children so she wouldn't be called barren; had not been a feminist because she didn't want to be called queer and a man hater; never nagged or raised her voice so she wouldn't be called a bitch. She had done all that and yet, still, this stranger had dragged her into the gutter with the names that men call women when they are angry.'

It seems to be an unfortunate fact, but name calling in one's childhood can stay with the victim throughout their life and keep them constantly responding to the expectations of others. Feeling unworthy as a child can also lead one in adulthood into abusive relationships!

In today's world of instant communication and the power of social media, ponographic pictures of pleasured moments between a girl and boyfriend can be maliciously posted on the phone for the world to see by a spurned partner and previously unblemished reputations ripped to shreds in public view of an unforgiving mob. All girls and young women out there, do not fall into this foolish trap of being photographed in compromising situations, however much you like the boy or believe he'll never show another.

There are far worse things to befall a person than physical violence which is more easier to address.  I would go so far as to say that it is far less cruel to deliberately break another's leg or arm than to call them a name that besmirches their character or casts doubt upon their good name. Broken bones mend with time, whereas name calling and character assassination can last a lifetime!" William Forde: May 15th, 2016.


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May 14th, 2016

14/5/2016

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Thought for today:
"No one has ever been loved as much as a first-born son is by their parents. His mother may claim that she loves all of her children the same, but sadly this cannot be so. She loves them all differently. Whereas the daughter of the family is born to be the apple of her father's eye, the first son belongs forever to the affection of his mother Only the first born is loved by both father and mother in equal measure. It is to him that dad will look to carry on the family name and mum will place all her future hopes and dreams. Or so my mother always led me to believe!

It is the youngest in the family who unfortunately will forever be in a state of 'catch up' and it is the middle child who is often destined to feel the most badly done to whenever parental praise and the excuses are being dished out. Of course, all proud parents will never see or admit to this being so in the structure of their family unit, but you only have to ask the eldest, middle and youngest of your offspring to learn that which many authors, researchers and professors of psychology have discovered over the past fifty years. Or so my teachers always led me to believe!

Here's the essence of what you need to know about birth-order types and how the eldest, middle and youngest children mix, match, mesh or clash. Whether you are designated a 'take-charge' first born or an 'attention-hungry' baby of the family or the compromising middle child who is the born peace maker, where you fall in your family's hierarchical order helps shape your personality and determines the significance of your relationship skills and roles thereafter.

Catherine Salmon, Phd, Professor of psychology at the University of Redlands in California says that first born children tend to be ambitious, conscientious, organised and more dominant in relationships. The first-born child likes to be in control. It has also been found that as with all family positions, gender plays a significant role too. In the case of all first-borns, whereas oldest sons tend to be 'take-charge' types and leaders, oldest females are more likely to be bossy, confident and aggressive than their younger sisters.


Years of research has shown that middle children are the least defined of the types. Whereas there can only be one eldest and one baby, the importance of middles shift, depending on how many others there are in the whole family. That said, middleborns are described as the 'Type 0 blood' as they go with anyone and as a general rule are the best compromisers; a valuable skill which was developed and honed as they negotiated between bossy older siblings and needier younger ones! Middleborn children are also believed to be more secretive and can often hold the view that they missed out during their development to that of both oldest and youngest siblings.


Last but not least, come the youngest of the family. Beloved, treasured, and in many cases babied for much longer than their older siblings (and often by their older siblings), the stereotypical youngest of the brood tends to be less responsible and more devil-may-care, with less of a hankering to take charge. All that however, can be different if the baby of the family came after a gap of more than a few years. In that case, the baby of the family may act more like an only child or an oldest sibling; as though the family had started all over again. Or so all my reading leads me to believe!


So, depending upon whether we prefer to believe in old wives tales, folklore, the word of mum, the crystal ball of an Irish peg-selling gypsy or in the decades of research performed by thousands of professors, anthropologists and psychologists from across the world (who quite frankly would be better getting a life for themselves instead of spending their own life analysing the lives of others), we take our pick when it comes to whose nose is best: or should I say, 'Who knows best!'" William Forde: May 14th, 2016.

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