The 'Wee Folks' Peaceful Summer's Night.

Twas such a peaceful summer's night.  A rarity of fine weather had shone down that day in my sleepy English garden.  That glowing orb, the star that lights our skies, had slipped away to horizon west.

And there they were.  A gathering of 'wee folks', smiling, rejoicing on such a peaceful summer's night.

Amongst the moonlit blossoms and leaves were Geoffrey the garden gnome, Fidelina his beautiful fairy princess wife and their child, so symbolic of the magic, the power of true love, Einahalk, the wee folks, wee lad.

The wee folks live in a magical world where no judgement shall ever be passed.  Where the wonders of life and the beauty around is seen through the clarity of an open mind.  No stigmas, no labels, no stereotypes.   They can teach us to celebrate the diversity of life.  Rather than fear what we do not understand, we must realise, just like the wee folks realise, we are all different, yet all equal.

Are Friends Electric?

"You know I hate to ask...but are friends electric?"   You might be familiar with that song, "Are Friends Electric", by Gary Numan and the Tubeway Army, which came out in the summer of 1979.   The song got me  thinking about my friends out there on "Electric Avenue".
Some might take a scientific view of whether friends are indeed electric.  You know, the kind that touch you on a cold winter's day and give you a bit of zap.  Talk about your friends giving you static.
I know, ohm my god, watt am I talking about?  Does it have anything to do with 'current' affairs?  Well, in a way, it does have to do with the current and the flow of electricity that drives my computer.  It has everything to do with the comfort I receive from those I have gotten to know out there in the vast and varied world that lies beyond the glow of my screen.
I am but one man, who through a series of sad, heartbreaking and traumatic events, woke up one day and found himself to be a lonely, isolated recluse.  A scared man, barely coping, barely functioning.  So, what keeps me going?  What determines I face another day with renewed determination?  It's the love I have for my son and for our precious dog.  It's the overwhelming kindness and compassion I have been graced with from comments and emails.   Ah yes, my electric friends.  Friends on the other side.  The other side of my computer screen, who reach out, and for those few precious moments, I am no longer alone.  Thank you.

Where The Sea And The Sky Embrace.

Down through the field, through the field of maize....oh how I love to gaze....Down through the bay, on a summer's day, where little boats rest and wait for the crest.... that's just over there....there to the west.  If you click to enlarge on this tranquil scene, you, my friend, will know what I mean.

And thus, there they wait, wait for the waters of yonder sea.

And the tide rolls in.  Some are free.  Some are yet to be.

And through the leaves, beyond the sea, there is a magical place, for you,  for me.

Let your thoughts drift away.....drift through the green....drift through the sand and take my hand....come with me to that magical place....where the sea and the sky embrace....

Beyond The Beach.

Tranquil seas, beyond the trees, immerse me with fond memories.  

I love to the see the beauty

The beauty in the sea

Where the waves roll in

And the waves roll out.

As the tides of change

Flow through my mind

I am one with the sea

And the sea is me.

Penny's Seven Links.

Okay, Gary aka klahanie, has been 'tagged', which is a good thing.  About time he had some proper identification so the authorities can check his whereabouts.   Almost a month ago, the human I allow to live me, was tagged by a really neato blogger who can be found over at this here site, the feathered nest   If, for some unimaginable reason, you haven't checked out that site, I highly recommend that you do so.

The challenge is to go back through your archives and place seven of your posts into different categories and in turn, to nominate five bloggers to do the same thing.
Ummm....really, well that could take some doing.  Finding seven of Gary's posts to actually be even remotely worthy of your attention.  So, I'm going to compromise on this one.  Even though I'm not the 'self-pawmoting' type of adorable dog, you know, Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet star,  I'm going to put some of  my 'pawstings' on here in the various categories.  Here goes.... 'arf' you ready?

Category 1 : Most beautiful post :   The Little Red Wagon Parade.   Because I take pity on Gary, I've selected one of his posts.
Category 2  : Most popular post :  Can't Fly With Me?   Oh well, the most popular post on this site has to do with 'adult only planes'.  People keep searching for 'cartoon plane', visit the site for like zero seconds and off they go.  Now and this is more like it, at one time, the most popular post on this site was written by Gary and it has to do with 'horse manure'.  Which is very reminiscent of the crap he writes.
Category 3  :  Most controversial post :  My Brain Is Fried.    This one was brutally honest and in all seriousness, I really felt for him on that posting.
Category 4  :  Most helpful :  The A to Zed Alphabark Challenge.  I observed, with bewilderment, that a lot of bloggers were doing some kind of challenge that taught them the letters of the Alphabet.  Thus, trying to be of help, I added my very own, 'pawsonel' thoughts on this highly important challenge!
Category 5  :  The post whose success surprised me the most.  That would be in so far as one that got a lot of hits that I was very surprised got a lot of hits.  So naturally, it's one of Gary's posts :  The Originals Of The Species.   I have really no idea why a photo of Gary, posing with a sombrero, would get so many hits on the site.  I mean, good grief, look at the state of him.  And that silly grin on his face....
Category 6 :  The post that didn't get the attention it deserved :  The 'Wee Folks' Wedding.  The 'wee folks' are my friends and they live in our garden.  Gary, much to the bemusement of our neighbours, went out and took photos of that blessed and magical event.  I know that very few have looked at the photos and I think they are well worth marvelling at.
Category 7 :  The post I'm most proud of.  In fairness, I'm going to submit two.  The first one is the one that Gary had read on the radio.  It's still beyond my comprehension why they would have him as part of an interview.  So, here it is : A Near-Life Experience.    And, here's the 'pawsting' I'm post proud of : Pawsitive Wishes.   


Righty ho, those were Penny's seven links.  Yes, I'm supposed to nominate five bloggers to do the same.  However, because I'm ready for yet another nap, I thought that if you want to 'tag' yourself and submit your own links, then by all means, go for it.

To delight you beyond any adequate adjectives, below are a couple of photos of me, yes me, Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet star.

Here's me guarding the garden.  Note my concentration.

That's just about it, my adoring fans.  Yet another fascinating, must-read 'pawsting' by this modest dog who would never, ever 'self-pawmote'.  Press, ''PAWBLISH PAWST ".....

And Tomorrow?

And tomorrow?   The sun sinks into the western horizon.   The flames of  desperation, of sadness, torment and pain, burn the fragments of society, burn the hearts and souls of so many, in this 'green and pleasant land'.   And tomorrow?  What of tomorrow?

I sit alone in my garden.  Listen to the gentle wind swirling through the trees.  I gaze at our magical moon and the tears of feeling so helpless, so hopeless, trickle down my cheeks.  In a darkened room, lies my son.  My son, tired from another day of going nowhere in a nowhere land.  With sleep, I pray he finds a few precious moments of freedom from the pain.
I am but one man, one man who will do his utmost to make this world a better place.  It starts with the understanding that a positive environment starts from within.   In turn, I extend this positivity to my son and the rest of the world.
May we embrace a better way and be here for each other.  We can and we shall make a difference.  For this must be our legacy to our children.  We can give a gift of a better tomorrow, for all living things, on our precious and fragile planet.  In peace, compassion and kindness, Gary.

The Sadness Of One Young Man.

I thought it only fair to warn you that the following posting is going to have a considerable amount of swear words that you might consider inappropriate.  They will be used to describe the sheer impact that an ongoing situation is doing to my son's life and my life.  So, if you perceive the profanity in an offensive context, I would suggest you do not read any further.  Thank you.

For over two years, my son has struggled to get any work.  There have been fleeting glimpses of hope when he managed to get a bit of Agency work.  The first bit of employment went okay, at first, until the Agency only offered him one day a week, less money than on unemployment benefits.  During the few days he actually worked at the allocated job, my son felt very lonely, very left out.  For the people he worked with would not speak in English.  He was hoping to be involved in a bit of banter.  Banter that never came.  And thus, because of the dwindling hours and a lonely environment, my son went back on benefits.
Just before I left for my trip to Canada in early May, my son got another job via another Agency.  Before I left, the job was going well and he seemed happy in his work.  It was so wonderful to see the smile return to his face.  So uplifting to his see his confidence, his self esteem, take a turn for a much welcomed better.  This was of great relief to me knowing that he was working while I was away.  Upon my return, his job was still going well, but he had concerns.
The work, via the Agency, was with the local Council, which you might call 'City Hall', or 'local government'.  The work was designated out by a supervisor at the Council.  My son was getting three to four days a week whilst another young man, who started about two months after him, was getting five days a week. That particular young man's dad is a friend of the supervisor who determines the work rota. My son asked if he could perhaps get more work because he noted the chap in question was getting more work than him.  Well, the supervisor went ballistic and stated, 'I decide who works or who doesn't!'  The supervisor phoned the Agency and told them that he no longer wanted my son working for the Council.
Okay, perhaps my son could of phrased it in such a way that he just merely asked for more possible work.  However, that's not the point.  My son's morals are intact and he was questioning what I consider an outrageous injustice.  I'm fucking incensed and seething with rage and if it wasn't for the fact my son doesn't want me to get involved, I would love to meet that asshole who let my son go and tell the insecure, ego-tripping prick just what devastation he had caused in my son's life and my life.  However, I've heard a rumour that the supervisor may be losing his job because he has screwed around a few people.  I hate to be like this, but I hope the fucker loses his job.
Oh yes, I've seen it all before, I've been a victim of such bullshit in my work life.  Yes, it's, 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink',  the old 'face fit', 'not what you know, it's who you know, or blow',  situation.  And what of the consequences?  It's low-life scum like that supervisor, that have had a severe impact on the well being of my son.  Who the fuck do people like that supervisor think they are?  Fucking around with people's lives and probably not even giving a shit.
Sad, desperate and disillusioned, my son signed back onto unemployment benefits.  Benefits he had to wait a month for and they would not backdate the money.  And yes, the Job Centre.  He has to travel on the bus, at his own expense, to sign on for his benefits, a distance of twenty two miles, round trip.  One time, there were roadworks and the bus got to its destination, ten minutes late.  He went to sign on and he was told, because he was ten minutes late, that he could not sign on and would have to come back in six hours time  He tried to explain, but they would not listen.  And so, because he did not want to wander around for six hours on a cold November morning, he returned home and went back at the new time.  Job Centre, what the fuck is wrong with you?  For fuck sakes, a bit of leniency and a bit of respect, please.   Things are tough enough without you treating those who are trying to find work, like they are something that you scraped off your fucking shoe!
It's doing my head in seeing my son get so fucked about.  He feels 'trapped', wants to move out, get on with his life.  And you know what?  Oh, I cry for my son, for all of those who have similar stories to tell.  My young man, another youngster whose dreams have been dashed by this brutal economy and brutal people.  A young man who sees his qualifications going to waste.  Oh, I'm struggling to cope with it all.  I'm worried sick that any more knocks will wear him down.
Despite the fuckers with their lack of morals, I shall stay positive and focused on a more encouraging and optimistic future, for him and for all the desperate and decent young women and young men, who just want to get on with their lives.  And to all those who have the fucking audacity to devalue the humanity of those in sad and desperate situations, I say, how fucking dare you!

Home, Home And The Range.

I've delighted you, beyond your wildest dreams, by posting about such fascinating topics as rubber gloves.
If you're really bored, have extra time to waste, instead of checking out those really important bloggers, there is a link included to each photo reference.  So here you go, if you want to read some additional crap written by shy and humble me :  Rubber Gloves.   If you don't want to read this part of the posting, may I suggest you scroll way down to the photograph that has to do with the title of this posting.  I think you will figure it out.  It's way, way down there. I've been tempted to do one of those way too long postings that has loads and loads of pictures.  You know the type of blog, where you scroll down and down and down...pick up on a couple of key words and leave a comment based on those couple of key words.  That way, even though you haven't really read the posting, it almost seems that maybe you sort of , kind of , did.  Happy scrolling......

And 'non-stick' frying pans.  And the link to that 'must read' posting.  That would be if by some unbelievable reason you haven't read this masterpiece of mayhem, before : Non-Stick Frying Pans.

Perhaps reading, or most likely rereading this posting.  I would say it's probably the coolest article I ever wrote : The Talking Fridge.   

And who would not want to discuss which way your 'ass wipe', 'bog roll', also known as 'toilet paper', should be placed on the toilet roll holder : Bog Roll. 

Or the practical wonders of the great British central heating radiator : A Heated Debate.   

Then there was this posting that told you all about the fact that I can actually, sort of use my washing machine : Airing My Clean Laundry.   

Finally, yes finally, now that the very out of character self-promotion has concluded and you may have scrolled down to this part, that's if you're actually still here, I wish to announce to you that I have a shiny new fan oven, complete with shiny new stainless steel pots and pans.
I love my shiny new oven, or cooker, or stove, or range, or whatever the hell you call it.  Oh yes, I've twiddled its knobs and stared at the lights.  I was amazed at just how quickly the ceramic hob heated up.  It really was an element of surprise.

Here is my beautiful new oven with a tranquil blue glow being cast upon it by the gentle ambience of my kitchen lighting and a flash bulb.  So inspired by this vision that I started listening to the music of Beethoven.

If you are still here, please don't grill me over basting, I mean, wasting your time.  In this photo you may have suspected that there had been a power surge caused by some alien 'Mothership' hovering nearby my home.   That would be somewhat reminiscent of an early scene of 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'.  However, although you may think that, based on this nonsensical posting, that what's left of my brain has been abducted by aliens, I can assure that it's just the oven heating up in preparation for me to stick something in it.
Oh gosh, innuendo alert.  Warm wishes and a pot-bellied stove, your way, Gary, yes, shy and humble, Gary.