Curtain Call for an Intermission
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Posted:Jun 5, 2006 2:22 pm
Last Updated:Jun 27, 2006 12:24 am
14187 Views
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As with all good shows, sometimes we need to bow out and have a much-needed break.
Time to slow down, breathe deep, and think about the next step.
While I'm gone, be sure to have fun, and just once in a while, throw a smile my way. The world is a sunnier place when we're smiling...
Hugs and missing you already!
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Just Because...
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Posted:May 31, 2006 3:20 pm
Last Updated:Jun 27, 2006 12:24 am
14326 Views
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Such simple words.
Which become soul-reaching, heart-felt words when they are accompanied by a dozen of the most beautiful, velvety-red roses.
Just Because...
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"Something"
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Posted:May 30, 2006 10:03 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:07 pm
12744 Views
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You may wonder if you know me
You may wonder if I care
Or if I’ll leave you sad and lonely
Or if I’ll always be right there
Well there’s no need for doubt now darlin’
’cause I have come to know
This love of ours is no common flower
You know this love is like a red, red rose
And you may wonder about this dreamer
If she’s all you thought she’d be
And, oh, if anything but someday
Ever comes from lovin’ me
But hold me close and tell me darlin’
That you have come to know
This love I bring you is no common thing
You know this love is like a red, red rose
When you’re all caught up in sweet surrender
Simple truth is sometimes hard to see
Here between the tough times and the tender
It all comes down to you and me
And you may see my heart of darkness
I may stumble now and again
But underneath this heart of darkness
There’s a heart that’s lovin’ you right till the end
So hold me close, come hold me darlin’
’cause I want you to know
This love of ours is no common flower
You know this love is like a red, red rose
This love of ours is no common flower
You know this love is like a red, red rose
Sung by Emmylou Harris - Lyrics by David Mallett
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I'm only doing this once!!
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Posted:May 26, 2006 9:48 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:09 pm
14183 Views
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I only realised after reading racingcrazy67's blog, that I was supposed to post this on my blog... after I had played with bulging_boy. Well, I didn't actually play "with" him... okay, maybe I did, but don't tell LIBlonde97!!
As I said, I first played this on Hobbit Boy's blog, and then again on My Favourite Garden Gnome's blog...
Here's what you have to do...
Leave a comment and I will:
1. Respond with something random that I know or think I know about you.
2. I will tell you what song or movie or celebrity you remind me of.
3. If you're male I will tell you the most likely place that you and I will (n)ever make out.
4. I will say something that only makes sense to you and me. Or at least make something up.
5. I will tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I will tell you what your name would be if you were the opposite gender.
7. I will ask you something that I have always wondered about you.
8. In order to play here you should be willing to post this yourself So please repost this in your Blog. Let the games begin...
"Ms Exclamation, your husband's in a comma. We're going to sentence someone for this, and we just need to ask you a few questions."
Sorry, a warped sense of humour, especially when it comes to English!!
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Charge Your Glasses Please!!!
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Posted:May 22, 2006 10:25 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:09 pm
14407 Views
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On 27th March, Blogville welcomed a new resident... racingcrazy67 racingcrazy67, who was also a pretty new chatter in the Euro Hot Tub.
Seems I made a promise to this new resident... something about champagne when he hit his 50th post... Guess what, guys... it would seem the drinks are on me!
CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!! to you, racingcrazy67, and here's to the next 50! (And next time YOU can get the drinks in!!!)
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Google Gracious Me!!!
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Posted:May 22, 2006 4:43 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:10 pm
14496 Views
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Google have launched their programme Google Trends, which allows users to see where most searches are made for particular words or phrases, and compare them with total searches for the United Kingdom.
The results appear to paint a rather bizarre picture of this nation!!
London tops the list with searches for champagne and caviar (no surprises there, then!!}, while whisky and haggis top the search list in Glasgow.
People living in Liverpool appear to have a taste for designer labels, with searches for Armani, Adidas and Versace topping the list there.
Norwich seem to have a fixation with bananas, and unsurprisingly, Prince William tops the search list in St. Andrews in Scotland, although he is no longer a student there.
Edinburgh tops the list with searches on the Da Vinci Code (makes me wonder just how many people reading the book realise it is actually FICTION???) and in Gloucester, there appears to be a fascination with pigs... I'll not ponder long on that one!!
My personal interest in Google is more with Google Earth, which is amazing, and worth a look-see. My other interest is my prized Google Mail email account, which has 2,000 megabytes of free storage and the fact that you don't have to click back and forth between an inbox and an outbox to tie all your messages together. There are also no flashing adverts taking up half the screen, but rather discreetly titled ads and links, some of which make for amusing reading, as they tie into what has been written about in the emails. Apparently computers scan your messages, and match the text to ads in their database.
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Squeeze Me.... Tease Me!!!
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Posted:May 22, 2006 4:12 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:15 pm
14459 Views
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Back in late March, I blogged about one of my favourite grocery items... Marmite and I remember then that those who know of this product were divided as to whether they loved it or they hated it (read You either love it or you hate it and see for yourself).
Today I popped into the supermarket while waiting for Master Hansen's prescription to be filled (my poor baby has tonsillitis), to load up on some jelly and ice cream, when I spotted it.
A squeezy bottle of Marmite. It was the last one on the shelf, which means someone out there has to like it too!
I smiled when I read the label, because I often have those thoughts when thinking of that special someone...
Squeeze Me...
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The Hardest Thing I Ever Did...
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Posted:May 13, 2006 11:54 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:16 pm
15265 Views
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May is always a month of introspection for me. For nineteen years I have wondered if what I did was the right thing. I have wondered how different my life would be if I had done things differently.
In May 1987, I was 19. Heavily pregnant and emotionally very alone. I had done what every father dreads. I'd gone out, partied my socks off, and my knickers too, and gotten myself pregnant. With hindsight (and someone who recently opened my eyes), I was rebelling. And seeking love and attention elsewhere, as I certainly wasn't getting it at home.
At 19 I had just started my first job, and for 5 months, I never told my employers I was pregnant. Until I had to. I was 7 months pregnant at the time, and I remember the HR Manager laughing when I told him. He couldn't quite believe it, as I didn't look pregnant. And bizarrely, once I had told him, I literally grew overnight. It was as if telling my terrible secret had allowed my body to expand with relief.
My employers were extremely understanding, which was more than what could be said for my dad and his wife. My father bluntly told me there would be no home for me, with them, if I chose to keep the baby. He had even offered to fly me to the UK to have an abortion. Their attitude was that I had shamed my family. My alcoholic father, who liked to present this respectable image to the outside world... and here his older was shaming him.
For the last 3 months of my confinement I stayed at a home for unmarried mothers. There I met other girls who had landed themselves in the same situation. An unwanted pregnancy, with both the baby's father, and the mother's family deciding that this place was the best place for us. I stayed there because I felt safe there, and because I was receiving counselling in preparation for the hardest thing I had ever had to do.
After my baby was born, I was giving him up for adoption.
Last year, I wrote two poems. I have another now, one who is extremely talented musically, and one day, while he was playing the piano, my thoughts suddenly drifted deep into the past, and I wondered what my firstborn was like. I wondered what talents he has. I wondered if he ever thought of me.
Your fingers glide across the ivory keys
The music gently stirring through my memories
You are my , my pride and my joy
But I will never forget there was another boy...
The girl had been young and just out of school
The boy she had met she thought very cool
Together they loved, they laughed and they slept
And then he left her, and she cried and she wept...
Her tears were not for the loss of her lover
The tears were because he had made her a mother
She called him one night over the phone
But he ignored her pleas, and left her alone...
For 9 long months she carried this seed
It grew in her body like a fast growing weed
Months passed in a blur... March, April, May
One morning she awoke and knew this was the day...
Alone she lay in the delivery room
Crying her pain as he left her womb
He was her , her pride and her joy
But she would never know this little boy...
Your fingers make sweet music on the ivory keys
As your mother becomes lost in her memories...
He will be 19 on 19th May, and on that day, like all the other 19ths of May that have passed, I know I will shed a tear, as I think of my baby boy, and the day I gave him away.
He lay in her arms and she gazed at his lips
Her fingers trembled as she traced nails, and fingertips
Her tears fell slowly as she cuddled her
She knew in her heart that their journey was done.
You were not for me, you were meant for another
You were my , but I was never your mother
I was the one who gave you away
On a cloudy morning in the month of May.
The decision wasn't easy, it tore at my heart
But your life would be better if we were apart
I was too young to be a good mother
So I gave you a gift, and I got you another.
Her tears fell slowly as she gazed at her
She knew in her heart his journey had just begun.
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Stop The Rot NOW!!!!
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Posted:May 13, 2006 4:45 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:16 pm
14625 Views
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Whatever you do this weekend, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE help remove one of the sickest groups currently thriving on this site!!
After reading a rather distressing blog by TechSteve, called [post 343026], I did a little exploring.
One of the groups hosted on this site is called [group 44569], and it currently has 1,208 members!!! You read some of the other topics posted by the group members, and it makes your skin crawl. How any of these members can think that sh*t is normal is just beyond me.
Other bloggers, including myself, have haunting memories of being abused as , and it breaks my heart to think that there are people out there who think it's normal for their parents/carers to behave like this!!!
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE go and Request Review on this group!!!!
Thank you.
***Update - the group have now been disabled, and all the topics removed. Thanks to This Site for responding so quickly. I just hope another group won't spring up in its place!!!
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My Song of The Moment...
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Posted:May 13, 2006 4:01 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:17 pm
13466 Views
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For those who don't know me, my MP3 player plays an important role in my life. Sad how materialistic a girl can be, but I can't help it that my MP3 player is the second thing I pack when going away (my passport is the first).
Anyway... I quite often listen to my music while I am online. I've lost count of all the albums I have loaded on my player, but as I personally own over 300 albums, I'm guessing it's a lot.
Every once in a while, I just select the random play option, and listen to whatever plays. Two days ago this song popped up, and I've not been able to get the song and the lyrics out of my mind.
It's a one-hit wonder by a band called Ace, called How Long, and when you first listen to the lyrics, you think it's a love song about infidelity.
The truth is actually far less dramatic. It turns out that it was about the band's bass player, Terry Comer, and about his working with other bands. He played briefly with The Sutherland Brothers and Quiver before returning to Ace. He hadn't told the other members of Ace and they felt cheated.
The lead singer, Paul Carrack, went on to sing for Squeeze and Mike And The Mechanics and also had a solo hit with "Don't Shed A Tear". Paul's musical career makes for interesting reading, as he went on to do session work with some of the biggest names in the music industry including Eric Clapton, B.B. King, Elton John, Van Morrison, and others. He even managed to squeeze in some session work with former Genesis guitarist Steve Hackett. Paul's solo career also continues to be very successful.
How Long was taken from their album Five-A-Side, released in 1974, and as I mentioned earlier, was to be their only hit. The band split up in 1977. Rod Stewart covered the song in 1981, and it featured on his album Tonight I'm Yours.
How Long
How long has this been goin' on
How long has this been goin' on
Well, if friends with their fancy persuasion
Don't admit that it's part of a scheme
But I can't help but have my suspicions
'Cause I ain't quite as dumb as I seem
And you said you was never intendin'
To break up our scene in this way
But there ain't any use in pretendin'
It could happen to us any day
How long has this been goin' on
How long has this been goin' on
---- musical interlude ----
Oh, your friends with their fancy persuasion
Don't admit that it's part of a scheme
But I can't help but have my suspicion
'Cause I ain't quite as dumb as I seem
Oh, you said you was never intending
To break up our scene in this way
But there ain't any use in pretendin'
It could happen to us any day
And how long has this been going on
How long has this been going on
How long
How long has this been going on
How long has this been going on
How long has this been going on
How long
How long has this been going on
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Message in a Bottle...
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Posted:May 11, 2006 12:55 pm
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:17 pm
14544 Views
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There has to be some delicious irony in the fact that my father is an alcoholic, and that my mother runs a pub. It would make more sense, I guess, if I added that my parents are divorced. Not that my father would ever admit to being an alcoholic. I think he'd just say he's a man who likes a drink. Which he does. He likes his drink. He drinks a lot of it. All day. Every day. But... he's not an alcoholic. He just likes his drink.
I can't exactly remember when I first realised my dad drank a lot. I guess I became more conscious that alcohol featured greatly in his life during my teens. I remember that he used to have water with his whisky. Then it seemed he was having a dash of water in his whisky. And then I don't think water even featured any more.
But I guess this isn't really about the drink, or the drinking. It's about the man my father became once he'd taken that first sip. Suddenly, he stopped being a man I could trust, and he became this stranger. Words came from his mouth that cut into my soul. This man, who claimed he loved me, abused me physically, mentally, verbally and emotionally while he was drunk. Night after night, week after week, month after month, year after year.
My step-mother is also an alcoholic, but would never admit it. She's just a woman who likes a drink. And she too, when drunk, becomes another person. But she didn't stop with verbal abuse either. No, she got physical too. I lost count of how many times I was punished - many times for things I had done, and many times more for things I had never done.
Throughout my childhood I was frequently beaten with a belt, or a wooden coathanger, or a wooden spoon, or a wooden stick. I was always smacked on the back of my legs, or on my bum... always in places where no one would see the bruises. And if I had bruises, I would make sure no one ever saw them. I used to change in the toilet at school, instead of the communal change-rooms, when we had sports, and I was never allowed to have any one to sleep over, or be allowed to sleep over at a friend's house.
The last time my step-mother hit me was when I was 16. This time, her weapon of choice was a bamboo cane, and as usual, I had put my hands out to protect my bum and the back of my legs. She rained her blows down on me, but this time she drew blood. The stick hit the fingers on my left hand, and cut deep into the flesh. I can't remember who was more shocked... me or her. I have the scars on my fingers as a reminder of those days, and I do remember that she never hit me again after that. I also remember going to school the next day and saying that I had accidentally cut myself with a knife while helping prepare the dinner.
Why do we lie, as ? Why do we protect the people who are meant to protect us?
After that, she never hit me, but the verbal abuse didn't stop, and with hindsight, the verbal/mental/emotional abuse hurt more. Far more. In the mornings, my parents woke up sober, and with no recollection of what they had said or done the night before. But I woke every morning, remembering everything. Remembering the harsh words, remembering ducking when an ashtray was thrown at me. Remembering being locked in my room.
Remembering... I still remember. The sad thing is... I can never remember any happy moments from my childhood. I am sure I had some. It can't have all been bad. But try as I might, I can't remember.
I am now a parent too, and I can count on one hand the number of times I have smacked my . I made a promise to myself, when my was born, that I would not treat my the way I had been treated.
And I like a drink. Perhaps one, on a Saturday night. Or two at the most. That's all. The rest of the time I drink water, or coffee. Because I am NOT an alcoholic.
The message in the bottle says Warning: Consume too much alcohol... and it might consume you!
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Tight as a duck
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Posted:May 7, 2006 8:52 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:18 pm
13979 Views
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In between bouts of lawn mowing, trimming of bushes (in the garden, people, in the garden!!)  I've been reading a very interesting book on the origins of well-known words and phrases. I've always loved the English language. I can't tell you why, as it's not even my first language (well, in theory, I guess it is now). I've also noticed that non-English speakers are sometimes better at the language than those who use it every day. I suppose we get lazy, and just take our use of the language for granted. 
Anyway, I digress...
My book is about etymythology and it covers the true origins of English words and phrases. The author also discusses common mis-spellings and misplaced phrasing of these words and phrases, and the book has proved an interested read so far. (For those of you who really aren't interested, the book is called Port Out, Starboard Home by Michael Quinion.) 
Now, I can't tell you how or when this phrase popped into my head, it just did. And my book doesn't cover the origins of this phrase, which is a pity.  So, I was wondering... where does the phrase Tight as a duck's arse come from? 
Equally, I want to know... how did the person who coined the phrase know just how tight a duck's arse could be? 
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Helga The Daisy Killer
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Posted:May 7, 2006 6:14 am
Last Updated:Jul 3, 2006 3:19 pm
13929 Views
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I love daisies. I've always loved daisies. There is something so cheerful about their little white petals, perfectly surrounding their little yellow faces. In our garden, we have a sprinkling of daisies that grows on the grass. Now I know some lawn purists will mutter "weeds, the lot of them, daisies and clover", but I don't care. I live in the countryside, and I don't want my lawn looking like a bowling green, all trim and pristine!!
I remember, as a , lying on the grass in the summer, and making daisy chains. There was a distinct knack to splicing the stem of the plucked daisy with your finger nail, and gently prising the split stem open, so you could thread another stem through.
I used to make daisy-chain necklaces, and bracelets, and even a daisy-chain crown, for my younger sister.
Sadly, I don't have any daughters to pass on this delightful pastime, and if I were to make a daisy-chain necklace for Master Hansen, I think he'd have me certified. Okay, so I'm already certifiable... let's not go there!!
Now, as summer approaches, the grass starts growing. And growing. And growing. Which means we have to haul out the lawn mower, and start mowing the lawns. Mr Hansen usually tries to persuade Master Hansen to mow the lawn for a nominal amount of money (which usually comes out of my purse!!), but today, Master Hansen was fighting a battle on his X-Box, and there was a HUGE "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging over his head. So, I decided to cut the grass.
Which meant I had to kill the daisies. Those beautiful white-petalled, yellow-faced beauties, that were sprinkled all over the grass. *Sigh*
I blanked my mind as I mindlessly ran over them, cutting their lives short with my ruthless blade. They vanished into the grass collector, never to be seen again. Inside, I was weeping...
But, in an act of defiance, I left a lone daisy, gently bobbing in the breeze. If Mr Hansen tells me I missed a spot, I'll run the lawn mower over his toes!!!
I wonder just how long it will be before my little daisy friends are back?
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To link to this blog (helga_hansen) use [blog helga_hansen] in your messages.
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