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Friday, 12 June 2015

DIARY OF REFLECTIONS BEYOND BELIEF


 I’m up as are the birds in the trees. The sun is shining its way before nine and why am I up so early? Oh long story, but can’t have a lay in for sure. Nerves are a little twisted today. I have an important phone call to make and I’m dreading it. Hub leaves all the nasty work to me.

 

You know when you are waiting for bad news and you don’t want to hear it but you want the phone to ring just to say either way? I’m talking in riddles again I guess. Yesterday was a lovely day. Though just before midnight, there was a shock to the system as teen announced something about what he was going to do. Really, out of the blue. I don’t do shock very well.  But that isn’t related to my phone call today.

 

I have just sorted out all of the whites to be done and in a couple of hours; they should be ready to dry. Now we don’t have a washing line, sadly, it broke two years ago. Replacing it? Well, long story short, but it would require more than what was there. So, a workman. Hmm. Don’t even goe there. Hahaha.

 

Some light relief tomorrow, we are on the train to see our friends Trix, Like and Hanz. Can’t wait. Love them to bits.  Reminds me, must put the lottery on today, as when we get back tomorrow it will be too late to do it.

 

What would a lottery win do for us? We would be able to visit our friends in Mexico with a golden gift, I would buy a house abroad so that my friends who can’t see would be able to have a lovely holiday and we could go to enjoy the sun when it’s pouring with rain here and the winds are blazing the snow is falling and the ice is dangerous.

 

For sure I would give money to the charity who are researching for treatment for Retinitis pigmentosa. Probably the one in Newcastle on Tyne as I think they have the most hope for us. Some researchers are working on helping those who still have sight, that’s great, but Newcastle are working on helping the blind too.

 

I would name a guide dog puppy. Actually two. One for me one for Hub.  Of course he wouldn’t get a choice in names. Hahahaha. Two little cuties, Mitsie and Betsie. Love those names. Oh I would have a girl Friday, who would come once a week and we would do girly shopping and walk our dogs. Oh how I wish we could walk the girls in the woods, or on the beach or just somewhere different. I feel really guilty they don’t have the variety in life. They have more love than most children get, they get a walk on our field, but not beyond that, a lovely lady used to walk them on the race course, but they were with other dogs as we paid her but sadly it wasn’t just to walk ours but walking about six other dogs at the same time. I worried that one of them may turn on ours.

 

I would give money to our local church I have written about this before. At Christmas they do a meal for the elderly. They collect them too and they say that the last time they went out was the Christmas meal the year before. How awful is that. It breaks my heart. I know that there are a load of lonely people out there and it hurts me so much.

 

Of course elephants would benefit from my lottery win as would dolphins. Oh gosh, I almost went into a frenzy there about dolphins and what I believe about them. I’m sure I have touched on the subject before and I escaped the men in white coats, dare not risk going there again, but, I if I whisper this in your shell like, I’m sure you won’t tell them? I believe they, dolphins that is, not men in white coats, are from a land beneath the surface of the ocean. I am not joking, I truly believe that. As I said, won’t go into detail as already this week I have had a friend telling me she thinks I’m mad. And she wasn’t joking. Hahahahah. No, really, she wasn’t.

 

Well, I say it as it is and if they don’t like what I say, they don’t need to read my blogs, right? I always have thought out of the box, the box is a boring place to be. I think this will mean, when I pop my clogs, oh there’s a saying, to pop ones clogs means to die. Origin? Again, loads of implications on this one. Some say if you leave your socks on your feet will go a funny colour when you die and you can’t take your socks off without removing your clogs/shoes. I’m not convinced on that one, but rumours say that to pop meant in old English to pawn. As in sell. UK readers will be aware of the nursery rhyme “Pop goes the weasel.

“Up and down the city road, in and out the Eagle, that’s the way the money goes, pop goes the weasel.

 The weasel was a household flat iron and to pawn the iron will help the beneficiary to continue to go to the Eagle. The Eagle was a well-known city pub. The implication in (Pop your clogs) pawn your shoes, is that if one is going to die, this essential item would no longer be required. So one may as well pawn/pop them for the money.

 

Oh I simply love words. Now here is something for my Bloggets who have a built in TV in their amazing   out of the box imaginations. OK, film camera action. Clogs were the traditional footwear for the working class in northern Britain, as we know, the soft southerners didn’t work. Hahahaha. Now rarely seen but at one time clogs were an icon for the men and women in the older days, not too old as the phrase is thought to have come from only the 1970s. Though it sounds as though it should be older. So the news on this subject goes, the sound on the cobbled streets as the clogged wearing workers ended their shifts has been likened to thunder. So this is where our built in TV comes. Imagine the days of industry in Northern England. Cobbled streets, the odd horse and cart going by with a man steering the rains looking rather weather beaten. An old woolly hat sports the top of his head and his expression is one of an etched, doleful, dour and wry.   His hands are worn out too

 

 Some carts have chopped logs on them, others have coal and some have vegetables left over from the market stalls. A colourful scarf loosely tied around one of the rider’s necks. Most of them wear tattered old brown coats. There shoes are grey with dust. The workers from the factories walk along next to the horses clunking banging away with their clogs. The sky is hopeful. Hopeful for sun which seems to be trying its best to break through the bruised clouds. The grass on the road side is yellow with lack of water. What spoils this picture I am painting is because we are talking the seventies, the odd car rattles by. And they did, where I lived everyone had a noisy car. But the drivers had respect. They waved to each other as they passed and if they saw a car the same make as theirs, the two cars would be tooted at each other.  Everyone had time to let others out from their roads and there was no road rage. The odd battered old caravan would pass by on the back of a rather over packed car, with holiday objects spewing from the roof racks.

 

OK, back to pop your clogs, well, I think I can come to the conclusion that this is origin uncertain.  It could be that “Pop your clogs” is much older than 1970s and it just wasn’t recorded in literature.

 

Alright, digression over! Yes, so when I pop my clogs, I hope my spirit will be free to roam many different worlds to pick the best one. Where would that be? I doubt under the ocean as I am terrified of water, so to get there? Hmm. Anyway, I would hope to find my Mum, Dad, Hubs Mum and my beautiful dogs. Now then, what if they are all in different places? Would I be allowed to take them to my chosen place?  Would I even know who they were, you know I believe that we have lived before, I know for sure in my mind that Hub and I go way back. I again have touched on this subject of regression. I once was regressed. I went with a friend, we were like silly school girls. I had her crying with laughter as I played the clown. I tell you, I came out of that church or community centre as it was a different person.

 

Something very odd happened there and that would describe how I believe Hub and I knew each other in another world.

 

When Hub and I were only tiny children, we had a connection that was totally abnormal. He was my heart. From a young child, he tells me he used to go to where I hung my coat along the dark damp corodoors at school. He would  just stand there and wish I was with him. I’m talking really young here. I also have told you about a school play we were in when we were eleven. As I placed a cloak upon his shoulders, he had to sing, as a child too his voice was amazing. As I looked on at him on the stage, my heart melted. I can still feel those feelings today. I spoke to myself in my head and told myself to get a grip. I mean, we were on stage in front of all the parents and more. But my soul spoke to me that day and from then on, I was in love with my honey. We were parted for 28 years, we got together under very unusual cercomstances, why? How? Because of Déjà vu

 

Love is a funny thing isn’t it? How many times do we think we are in love? An yet when we are with the right person, the others seam to mean something intirely different. Apart from Hub I fell in love once before. When we split up, I thought my world was over. How wrong I was. But at the time? And even many many years later, I was still hopeful that my love and I would get back together. On  reflection, that would have been disastrous. We break up for a reason. What reason? Only our maker knows at at the time and you may ask well, why are we hurt, why even get us together? I don’t know that answer, if I did I would be God and I’m not. As specially after that  fizzy afternoon I had yesterday. Hub thought it was hilarious. Oh if only he saw me making the evening meal? But both boys said it was delicious, and I must say, I absolutely loved it too, this is unlike me. Now, to be a good cook is to be a drunk cook? No, I don’t think so, well, if it is, I’m not going there, it was dangerous. Two and a half glasses small ones too of bubley and lets say I was a very noisy cook. My kitchen was rocking and rolling. I swear it was moving. I blame that blooming road. All that traffic is having a knock on affect on our foundations of the house.

 

Talking of house, I must go now and get my washing out from the machine. I can’t believe how long I have been writing today? Well, a couple of interuptions. Firstly from the delivery lady then my neighbour. Until later my Bloggets, bare with, this blog is a little, em, shall I say different? Hah.  Well, different is good? Makes you realise just how normal you are and how your Fifi Blogget is totally off the map of life as we know it.

 

Smile as it costs nothing and if you smile the whole world smiles with you, said Louis Armstrong.

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