I’m still here!

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As some of you may be aware life has been a challenge this year. My posts on here have been sporadic…  to say the least. And yet -folk still drop by. They don’t always ‘Like’, but, hey they visit. Come to think of it they probably make a hasty retreat and vow to never call again. After all… there is a plethora of other rubbish to read out there. And then there is some really GOOD STUFF!

Anyhow… I just want to wish you all a very happy Christmas and say a huge thanks for following me, reading me and running away very quickly – when you realise what this blog has to offer.

I plan to reappear on here next year. Sooner, rather than later. You have been warned!

Wishing all of my victims a peaceful and contented Christmas. Yeah, right… like that is going to happen. Just survive, just survive! 

See you on the other side.

Dorne x

P. S. If there are any spelling mistakes in this post, it doesn’t read very well, or you’re bored silly by it – that’ll be the fault of my cataracts.

 

Welcome 2017! How will you live your year?

fibro-fog-for-wd-4January 1, 2017 – gosh that feels good to write that. It’s a new year – all fresh and virginal.

It’s a bit weird how one tiny second that takes us from one year to the next is so liberating. And it’s all in the mind. Nothing has really changed, but the power of our collective minds makes it so.

We have a new year and new challenges to deal with. But, we have fresh hope and a sense of a new beginning.

True, some folk are still on a rather warped and destructive path of their sense of justice… that’s life. We don’t have to let them win though.

We have a break up with Europe to face and an uncertain and controversial person about to enter one of the most powerful posts in the world. Wars rage and famine continues to take lives all too easily.

Change is going to be the buzz word of 2017.  Change can scare folk rigid. But, it  can also deliver pleasant and unexpected surprises.

Like that job you took that you hated at first and then really fell in love with, as you adapted to the change. Or the  move to a house that didn’t feel like home and then you cried, when you had to leave it and move on.

We can let the world and its current events scare us , or we can choose to live and see the good things.

Wherever you are and whoever you are I wish you a good and peaceful 2017. May you rise to your challenges and find the good in this weird world – that is of our making.

How about you? Do you love or fear change? Does 2017 fill you with hope?

Thanks for reading – it is truly appreciated.

Dorne x

 

A teenage greyhound’s first blog post. Love from the Daisy Dog.

daisy-asleep-1I want to like, wash my bottom on the sofa in the lounge and then I may have another little snooze. Before you’re sick ,mummy has a big fluffy throw on there and a waterproof cover:  and so my bottom will not make the sofa smell. Which is a shame, because I love all things smelly and fluffy. Cool!

She can’t do anything about my farts smells though. They are like something else. They’re awesome! Sometimes I have to run away from them. I mean where do they come from? Well, alright I know where they come from… but, I mean what have I been eating? Like! They’re so GROSS!

I’ve been living in this place like since January and it’s like okay.

I will be five in May of next year. Yeah, because I was like four in May of this year… get it?

I like to be cuddled and I love to get myself comfy on the sofa and screw the covers up. Sometimes I drag the covers off the sofa and dump them at the bottom of the stairs like. That’s awesome.

If dad leaves his empty coffee cup on the coffee table I like to get in there and have a slurp of it. Yummy. Yeah, that’s awesome – me… a teenage greyhound on caffeine. You’ve got to see it to believe it. Heard from downstairs, me in the bedroom sounds like an earthquake… cool – like!

Why is the coffee table called a coffee table like? Like does it need to have coffee all over it? I can help with that!

This thing called Christmas is coming like and mummy has put things called decorations up in the house… the whole house. Daddy says it’s too cluttered and mummy tells him it’s Christmas and to shut up – like. Later on I find daddy looking at the decorations and smiling.  When mummy ( who is also known as she who is usually obeyed) asks daddy to put the lights up outside, at the front of the cottage ( because we have to emphasize we live in a cottage – like) he can’t get out there fast enough – like! This has nothing to do with mummy  – she is trying to get her chocolate  – filled bottom through the loft hatch, to find more Christmas decorations. Daddy may never get back in again. The decorations may fill the house – like.

Anyhow – like. I’ve discovered something called crackers. Mummy had carefully selected some to go with the rest of the rubbish she has on display   – like. I got hold of one the other afternoon and showed  it to daddy. He told she who is usually obeyed and she took the cracker away and then she moved the other crackers.

She’s forgetting that if I stand on my hind legs  – like, I’m nearly six-foot tall… hah, hah! I could get the crackers – like.

Right, I’m bored now – like. I need to sleep a bit more, but I might come back again sometime – like.

If you’ve read this… cool! If not… I’m not really that bothered – like.

Big sloppy kisses and a right awful pong  from The Daisy Dog x

 

Do you remember Dixon of Dock Green in the sixties? A Saturday trip down memory lane.

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There’s something special about Saturdays. I was born on a Saturday night, just as Jack Warner as Sergeant Dixon in Dixon of Dock Green said “Evening all!” I’m led to believe that this was about 9.20 pm. My paternal grandma watching it downstairs, turned up the sound on the television as I screamed upstairs,throughout the episode. When it had finished she investigated the source of the noise pollution. She loved me really… and me her.

For those of you that aren’t familiar with 1960’s television shows in the UK, here’s a clip of the opening titles.

 

You’ve got to admit that’s pretty gripping stuff. Cor blimey! This show went on for many years. Sergeant Dixon brought me into the world and accompanied me throughout most of my childhood.

As a very naughty six-year-old that crawled the length of the children’s hospital ward underneath the beds, to hide from the nurses; used the beds as trampolines and swung from the toilet chains, I had my tonsils removed. I also pretended to be falling asleep and then made my bid for freedom, as the poor surgical staff tried to anaesthetise me. Round and round the room I raced, like a caged animal trying to escape. Someone opened a door and I saw my escape… only to be captured by a mad scramble of frustrated, but relieved hands.

“I’m going to sleep now.” I told them and waited for that awful black mask to be removed from my face.

I woke up on the ward, minus my tonsils and feeling cross with myself for letting them get the better of me.

For being such a good girl? I got a Lady Penelope doll. I was Thunderbirds crazy. My Lady Penelope wasn’t chauffeured around by Parker in a pink Rolls Royce, no…  she drove herself in a blue, plastic jeep. She drove like a mad woman and did things for herself. She didn’t wear the shop bought costumes. I made my own creations for her and I think mum might have chipped in as well with a few items. She was a hippy with headbands, maxi dresses and was nothing like her television personality. She talked with a Yorkshire accent and didn’t brush her hair very much. She climbed trees, played in mud and sand and just lived like a child.

Here’s the Thunderbird’s version of her Ladyship in action.

Later on, as a teenager, Saturday meant pay-day for my paper round and a free Mars bar. I’d buy a can of coke and slurp, and munch my way around my paper round. Then I’d head off to Music College for the morning. I played clarinet. I still have it and occasionally I try the odd Clarinet concerto… as one does. My mouth is not used to the reeds these days and I get blisters. Also, it sounds like a cat on heat! The poor thing can’t get any relief.

These days Saturdays are still special to me. It’s almost as if I can feel them. The traffic that meanders its way through the village and past our cottage sounds different and feels different. I can almost feel that Saturday shopping anticipation/ going to the match/ to visit friends. No work – for some. At this time of the year Christmas shopping is picking up and the excitement levels of guys being dragged off to shopping centres is at an all time high.

Early on a Saturday morning I  roam the sleeping village streets with the Daisy dog and imagine the snoring folk behind the closed blinds and curtains. Eventually, they will rise, without the aid of an alarm and sleepily wander into their Saturday.

The only part of Saturday I can’t abide is the evening television. It’s all stupid game shows, dancing, prancing and mindless garbage for morons. Yeah, I love it. I persuade hubby to binge watch zombies, controlling presidents/politicians and aliens. A bit like Brexit and the Amercian Presidential Election really!

So, that’s a muddled up post about Saturdays/ childhood memories and a bit of other stuff thrown into the mix.

And to think that this all started off with some fog and frost this morning. It got me out of bed… to photograph it and it got me thinking about Saturday.

There may be some of you who would have preferred the fog and frost… SORRY! But, memory lane got in there first.

So, did any of you have a Lady Penelope doll? Watch Thunderbirds? Play clarinet? Do you remember Dixon of Dock Green? Have your tonsils removed in childhood? Climb trees?

I’m off to walk the Daisy dog now and climb a few trees! Oh, and I forgot to mention the roller skating. Maybe next time.

Thanks for reading.

Dorne x

 

 

 

Happy Halloween: Most Farted! A take on Most Haunted.

I’m betting there will be a few strange noises and events tonight. This lot, minus the brilliant Derek Acorah may even be lurking somewhere.

This is an alternative take on Most Haunted. I know there are numerous other shows where folk go to haunted properties, turn off all the lights and then scare themselves silly; for the benefit of the audience – hiding behind their sofas at home.

If you have the sense of humour of an eight year old then this is for you. Enjoy.

There… that feels so much better.

Thanks for stopping by and stay safe on this spooky night.

Dorne x

 

 

Autumn. A song and some thoughts.

I absolutely LOVE autumn. The colours, the weather, the mood… I could go on but, I’ll let this video and song from one of the true masters weave some autumn magic.

 

Then… there’s my take on autumn.

As I’m thinking about it now, I can think of so many other things about this rather special season. You’ve been spared them for now. I may be back with chapter 2.

Talking of which, I’m hoping to do my version of NaNoWriMo ( is that right?). I am putting together a book about greyhounds and I want to use November as a time to get it completed. Then, I can drive myself nuts trying to self publish, as an e-book.

My attempt at the month-long writing challenge would probably be best called NaNoMayAllthingsbeing wellFingersCrossedMo.

So, if I go comatose on here you know why. It could be argued that I’m comatose on here anyway. No difference then.

 

Halloween is powerful.

Halloween is powerful.

 

The heady days of summer are a becoming a distant memory.

The harvest is done

and thanks will be given.

Long fingers of darkness finger the landscape,

and cover it

like an incoming tide.

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Halloween finds the kids in their costumes… excitedly tricking and treating.

Ghosts of spirits good and bad are at large on the street

and lanterns are made and lit,

 to keep them from our homes.

That thin veil between our world, the other world, or even worlds… whatever our beliefs, is almost tangible.

It’s powerful stuff… this Halloween fun!

 

The birds sing their mellow songs now.

Above us, migrating birds bid us farewell.

Leaves drift down from the trees; like golden snowflakes.

Our boots kick through red and yellow drifts of leaves.

The horse-chestnut trees give up their treasures and returned to a temporary childhood, we hunt for the shiny, red conkers again.

The fire is lit and body, and souls snuggle up under soft blankets and are kidnapped by books, that have collected dust, during the summer months. Now, they take us prisoner in their familiar and not so familiar worlds.

Scarves are knitted and proudly worn on our forays out into the colder, sleepy world.

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There’s a sense of peacefulness.

A need to sleep.

A sense of everything coming full circle.

The bonfires and fireworks light up the dark skies and our spirits.

The sunrises and sunsets go all out for a show of amazing colour.

 

There are Festivals of Light, Christmas and New Year celebrations to prepare for and celebrate.

So much to do.

In a matter of weeks

the first snowdrops will sleepily raise their pretty, little heads above the frozen, hard earth.

A stillness will cloak our land.

As we semi hibernate

And ready ourselves for the new seasons to come.

New plans, new hopes, new life.

There is always hope… until there isn’t.

Then, there is an acceptance.

There is always the cycle of life.

There is always Halloween – to help settle us in, to the new season.

 

Thanks for reading and have yourself a great Halloween.

Sees ya later.

Dorne x