Life at the hall and elsewhere...

The Cook - Rhoda's Friend

As Rhoda showed her commitment to her job, her duties increased and she was given various other duties.  These varied from the downright scary to downright fun.  I'll tell you about one of them.  The first was being playmate and and servant, to the Master and Mistress's two sons.  From what I've been told that they were two scamps, but didn't have a bad bone in their bodies.

They'd been bought a pony.  Rhoda thought the pony was a miniature but the butler informed her, that it was bought with the whole idea, to prepare the boys for riding in the local hunt, when they got older.  What they loved to do was to get any servant that wasn't busy, to come outside and ride the pony.  The thing is that the pony was barrel chested and when the servant mount it, their legs could reach the floor.  Most servants were not keen because as the pony trotted in a circle, their legs would be going at the same speed.

They called the thing "Merrylegs", and that was probably because the servants' legs were going like "merry hell" in a circle.  The day came, when they pestered Rhoda to ride "Merrylegs".  She argued against it, as she was a poor horsewoman.  They pestered and pestered until Rhoda decided to do it, as it made them both very happy.

They stood there in the warm Summer sun and looked like two angels.  They smiled as Rhoda mounted the pony and promised that they wouldn't do anything.  Rhoda didn't have to use any mounting stool, as "Merrylegs" was so small, she could just throw her right leg over the pony and get comfortable in the saddle.  She turned to the boys, and they smiled sweetly at her.   The groom gave the order to "trot on" and kept the reins firmly gripped in his hand.

Rhoda had pulled her legs up for as long as she could and on the third circle she was getting a little tired.  It was then the children stroke.  The eldest one crept up to "Merrylegs" and slapped it on the rump.  The pony, startled took off like a scalded cat, tearing the reins out of the grooms hands and off down the long drive.

Rhoda hung on for dear life and hoped and prayed that the little pony would tire. The trees flashed by and they were heading towards the gate.  Her muscles in her legs were shaking, and then from the left of her, there appeared a miracle.  It was the groom on a bicycle.  He managed to pass the deranged pony and reach for the reins.   Rhoda never knew how he did it but he managed to stop "Merrylegs" and Rhoda fell out of the saddle and kissed the earth.

The boys were apologetic and they couldn't look Rhoda in the eye.  Later that night, Rhoda was bought to the Master's study and he'd got his two sons to formally apologise.  He pointed out that not only "Rhoda could have been seriously hurt, but so could "Merrylegs"".  From that day forward, Rhoda stopped being the boys maid but they were most respectful to her and the other servants.

The upper classes...

Rhoda but not THE hat

As I said before, Mum fitted into her job, like a well oiled cog.  She got on with everybody and she knew her place.  It got to the point where her responsibilities broadened and while there was no increase in wages, it made her life more interesting.

Being a parlour maid, meant for three weeks to a month in the year, she and a skeleton staff were left behind to "mothball"  the hall, while the family moved to warmer climes.  This was a enjoyable period of Mum's life as she and the rest of the staff had it easy.  The Housekeeper told them, that as long as they did there jobs, she didn't mind if it got a little lax.  This meant that Mum and her friends could examine the rooms in the great house.

They knew it was more than their job's worth, to go into the master and mistress's rooms, but in the attics, they found treasure troves.  There was suitcases loaded up with dresses and suits of the families and also diaries and love letters.  Mum and her pals, used to hurry through their work, to rush up into the attics.   There, they would try on the dresses, and read the diaries and imagine that they were the ancestors.  They found out all the indiscretions, skeletons and let their imaginations run wild.  The Housekeeper knew all this, for she'd been with the family for years and also been in the attics.  So, in a way, Mum and her pals were following a staff tradition.

The family of the house, would hold  hold dinner parties and overnight guests would bring their staff with them to not only augment the house staff, but also have servants to look after their needs.  This was a mixed blessing for Mum as she'd be roped in to serve at mealtimes, but fortunately, she was taught by the butler.  She never actually described these occasions in detail, but what she did describe was, that with the extra staff, came  extra gossip.  This was frowned upon by the managing staff but the maids used to chat before bed.

She found out all sorts of things.  There was many a time she found out, that the lord or gentleman that arrived (fashionably late) had also arrived with a fashionably high class prostitute.  She knew if any couple were not getting on and the master of the house, was spending time at his club...  It was an underground intelligence and it really made Mum think that "they" were probably as bad as any commoner.

OK going to close, with another Mum tale.  On the eve of the family's return to the house, Mum was informed that because of a chambermaid being ill (She remained in Halifax  (I'm assuming she was in Hospital)  Mum would be promoted to chambermaid for the mistress of the house, for a few days until the other chambermaid got well.  Mum didn't mind this, as long as it wasn't a permanent position, as the mistress tended to be a little overtaxing.

The mistress arrived home with plenty of luggage and Mum laid out her mistress's formal gown and garments for her to change into for dinner.  (OK getting fed up with typing "Mum" all the while, so going to call her by her given name. so everybody, meet "Rhoda")  Now, as the mistress left the room, Rhoda was expected to tidy the bedroom, put the mistress's clothes away for washing and pick up anything else, strewn around the bedroom.  She'd got most away and picking up the mistress's traveling hat, she tried it on.  She liked how it looked, and so, she placed it into it's hat box and put it on top of the cupboard with all of the mistress's other hats.

Rhoda (and the rest of the staff) had 1 weekend in every month off (it was staggered so that there'd always be  enough staff to cope).  So, Rhoda and one of the cooks went to Halifax.  The cook's family lived there and they invited Rhoda to stop.  Now Rhoda hadn't forgotten about the hat, and how good she looked in it.  She'd told the cook , and so the very next day, the cook and Rhoda searched the town.  Disappointed that they hadn't found it, they were returning to the cook's family home, when Rhoda had an idea.  They stopped in a Haberdashery and sure enough, there was a pattern for the hat.  Rhoda bought the pattern and fabric and the cook and her returned home.

The weeks went by and each night, Rhoda committed a small amount of time making this hat.  It was of great felt and it had a peacock's feather in it.  She finally finished the hat, and then she had a brainwave about the feather.  She got hold of the boot boy, and persuaded him, to chase one of the hall's peacocks towards the gate of the hall's walled garden.  He knew he was going to make sixpence out of it and so, the game was afoot.

Rhoda and the boot boy woke early, and in that misty dawn, they both went in search of the peacocks.  Sure enough, they found one and the chase was on.  The peacock ducked and dived and cried out but the boot boy had the measure of it, and chased it towards the open gate.  It shot through the gate, like "Shit off a shovel" and to it's surprise, Rhoda was waiting behind the wall to pull a feather out of it's bum.  With an indignant cry, the peacock flounced off and Rhoda and the boot boy exchanged the money, both smiling happily.

On Rhoda's next weekend off, the hat received it's grand showing.   On the way out, Rhoda heard the mistress of the house call her back.  "Rhoda, who gave you permission to wear MY traveling hat?",  she said.  "No one, Ma'am" Rhoda replied. "But it's not your hat", Rhoda said.  "Nonsense", the mistress said, and with that she ordered another maid to fetch the hatbox, with her hat in (Fully expecting it to be empty).  The maid returned, and with a flourish, the mistress flung open the lid, only to see her hat (an exact copy on Rhoda's head) lying there.

She hastily apologised to Rhoda and asked her where she'd got it.  Rhoda told her.  "And how much did it cost you?" she asked.  Rhoda said, " 3 shillings and sixpence" (3 shillings for the fabric and pattern and sixpence for the boot boy).  The mistress look astonished, "I purchased mine for 12 guineas">  With that, Rhoda curtsied and went her merry way.


1 guinea = £1-1s-0d ( £1/1/- ) = one pound and one shilling = 21 shillings
(which is £1.05 in todays money)

shilling (which is 5p in todays money)  

It was a dark and Stormy night...

Mum

When my Mum trudged down the lane to the hall, she saw that the main gate was large and wooden.  It was also resting with it's base in a pool of water, that reflected the drizzle of rain.  She was soaked and while she was confident on her ability to do her job, she just wanted to get out of the rain.  She wasn't the only one who had the same thoughts, as down the lane came a mass of rats.  It was like a living carpet of fur, and it caused her to open the small door, that she'd noticed, barely in time and step through onto the main drive of the hall.

She saw the hall for the first time, in the moonlight that broke through the rain clouds.  She enjoyed a good book and it reminded her of the heroine, who would arrive at the creepy hall owned by her uncle.  The only difference was, that the heroine would arrive at the front door in a carriage, and she, Mum, would have to trudge to the rear of this grand house, to the servant's quarters.

She took to her job, like a duck to water and being a palour maid meant that she'd be up early to make sure that the rooms she was assigned to were spick and span before the family of the house were awake.  This was when she was caught up with a moral dilemma.  She was doing her best to clean her room when she noticed something sparkling on the floor, tucked underneath the corner of the carpet.  Wondering what it was, she bent down to take a look.  It was a half-crown coin.  Now to mum, a half-crown was quite a bit of money but something seemed not right.

She went and fetched another maid, who told her it was a test to see whether she was honest, trustworthy and able to do a good job.  If the coin was gone the next morning, then the family would assume, being as it was Mum's room, she'd took it and so, she would be dismissed as being dishonest.  If it was still there, then it would be telling as Mum didn't polish the floor to the standard that was required.  It was virtually a "catch 22" situation. What she did, she finished off the room, to the best of her ability and fetched the house keeper to inspect her work.

The house keeper, could to see how well Mum had done her job, but must have been disappointed to see that the half-crown was missing.  She turned to Mum to dismiss her, but before she had a chance, Mum pulled out the half-crown placed it in the house keeper's hand and said, "I  know I'm an unknown but I do not appreciate being placed in a situation where I might be called a thief, or my ability to clean is questioned.  I hope you'll pass this on to the master and mistress of the house. I don't take what isn't mine".  She curtsied and left the room   

OK, I may have altered slightly, as I can't find the tape...  I remember her saying that she confronted the mistress with the coin, but more likely, being the new girl...  it probably went down how I put.

I'm going to finish...  Next post...  Life upstairs

The Three Rs

OK, I'm going to try to put on record, as faithfully as I remember it, my mum's life story, leaving out things to protect the innocent (OK this does sound like she's on witness protection) but keeping to the facts as I know them, so expect a lot of artistic license.

She was born in a Nottinghamshire mining village.  She had 3 brothers and two sisters and the boys were expected to go down the mines and the girls into service. First though, she had to get school, over with.  The school she went to was split, the boys one side of a fenced wall and the girls on the other.  The teaching was basic, (The 3 R's).  They had a teacher called Miss Bottomly and Mum said that she had a nickname.  The used to call her "big" as she had a very large bottom.

Mum wasn't the ideal student, she used to get into fights.  The sisters had a enemy.  Her name was Gerty Grice and her nickname was "Gobby".  Mum and her would fall out.  Mum told me that once, Gobby Grice was slagging her sisters off, so she laid into her. She got her on the ground and was punching her, when one of her sisters saw the fight, and shot off. When mum got home, her mum confronted her.  "N said you were fighting with Gerty Grice again!", she said.  Mum turned round and said, "Yes, and I'll punch her again to, if she calls my family".  She got slippered for fighting.

The funny thing about Mum and "Gobby" was that they became good friends when they left school.  They'd chat and talk and one day, "Gobby was coming up the road and she looked lik she was packing a little weight.  Mum asked her about it and "Gobby" told her that she'd been to the doctors and he'd told her she had a very large "tumour" and she'd have to go away and have it removed.  She didn't see "Gobby" for months and the next time she saw her, she was pushing a pram.  Mum stopped her, looked at the baby, and said, "That a lovely "tumour" you've got there".  "Gobby" had the grace to go red.

As I've said before, Mum and her sisters were expected to go into service.  What happen was, her mum, (My Grandma) trained them.  What would happen was that they had to clean a room each, and it had to be spotless.  Grandma would go round every work surface, every door frame, with a white glove.  If there was one speck of dirt or dust, she'd make them do it again.  She was harsh but she wanted her girls to be the best.

They applied for jobs and Mum got one, in the wilds of the Yorkshire moors...

"Hudson, Apone... That's it, we're screwed" - Memories of a cyber nerd.

I made friends with a geek.  I'd say that this goes back ages, and being as it's another memory, it goes back years but last night, the geek and I (Fellow geek, that I am) wallowed in nostalgia.  I say "wallowed", in reality, we soaked it into our pores and let it refresh our little cells and braincells.  It must have been a good thing as I didn't get to bed till 3am.

My friend is into board games and he took me onto a world tour of some really obscure ones, I saw "Rebound, Tilt, Police Alarm!and then we went through old TV and movies.  This is where things got interesting (not that they wasn't before) but it bought back really pleasant memories...  To get you in the mood, I'll have to tell you how me and my geek friend met.  So fasten your seatbelts it's going to be a bumpy ride back to the 80s.

I had a job.  I worked in a warehouse (No, not "Warehouse 13", I wish (and yeah there will be geek references all the way through this) and it was part of the textile industry

 

Me outside the textile mill

Anyway, due to cheap imports, the factory closed down and I was made redundant,. (but I wasn't in the factory at the time, I was in hospital having tumours removed from my arm pits).  When I came out I sign on the dole.  This was the first time ever I'd been unemployed and anyway, they placed me on a work program.  This was a interesting thing (I didn't realise it at the time) building duck ponds (SORRY Natural environmental habitats) a farmer would donate part of his land and we'd move in and build a pond.  I now like to think that we were the "A team of "Duck Pond" builders but I think we just used to arse around.

Anyway, we were a motley crew, I was like the middle of the group age wise, and what used to happen, Mum would bake cakes and pastries and I'd take them in for the group.  This of course, made me popular (The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, after all) and (I'll probably do more about this motley crew at a later date).  There was one guy there I got on well with (No it's not the geek).  His name was Barry and he had bright pink hair.  As you can see from the picture, my hair was fairly normal, so this friendship was strange to say the least.  The thing was though, the van used to drop us off at the same spot and we got to talking.  He'd recently been bought a Spectrum 48k computer and he wondered if I wanted to see it.  I of course, was polite and vaguely interested, said "Yes".

When I arrived, I was taken into the living room and Barry and his brother were playing "3D Death Chase" .  This sounds more lethal than it was and as you can see, from the link, it wasn't pretty.   I watched, and showed of my skills as a player (basically played like an epileptic amoeba) and it was a joyous few hours.  Barry's sister turned up, and trailing behind her, was her boyfriend.(OK you can applause now, the geek has entered the room).  His eyes lit up when he saw the game, and like every typical male, he wanted to play and Barry's sister was relegated to observer. (Don't worry she dumped him later (or he dumped her)).

The weeks/months went by and Jonathan (formerly known as Geek  (I felt like calling "Geek" all the while, suggested that he belonged to an "S&M" Rubber club) became a friend.  I managed to obtain a "Spectrum 128k" computer and had purchased the game "Aliens".  Now the game, with it's limited graphics managed to recreate the scene where you're controlling the Colonial Marines. (Are you bored yet, it gets worse (or better if you're a geek)) and I invited Jonathan round.  He knew what we were playing and bought the soundtrack album round and so, with all the lights off and just by the light of the TV screen, we'd try to kill the queen.

OK this sounds, totally boring BUT there were two things going for it;  the soundtrack and Jonathan.  He did drama as a hobby and we'd sit there, he'd be doing all the voices, and physically shouting at the screen as each marine was taken by an alien. The atmosphere was ripe with tension (and it wasn't because of the "Red Hot" Crisps we'd been munching)

So Jon, I dedicate this blog to you...  and the late Hudson, Apone ,Vasquez and all the other dead marines we left behind.

Childhood Memories

The Bradford lot

OK, my mum, was a maid, (a la "Downton Abbey") and she made friends with a number of staff, and kept in touch with a few.  We'd get holidays out of it and one of her biggest friends was my Auntie M (as usual keeping names quiet as who know who reads these things).  I loved going to stop at Auntie M's because she ran a corner sweet shop and me and her youngest got on like wild fire.  We'd go out on day trips, like to Ilkley Moor.  There'd be a picnic or maybe a pub lunch, and me an C (Auntie M's son) would climb the smaller rocks and belt out "Ilkley Moor bar t'at".

C, Aunty M's Son and my Mate

Ok the next tale might seem offensive to my "aunt" but the shop and her were immaculately clean and so what comes next as a surprise.  On the first morning there, I'd slept in C's bedroom, with C and he told me we should go down the stairs and open the curtains, to let the morning sunlight into the house.  I went down the stairs and C followed but paused on the bottom step.  I thought it strange but went down and went to the curtains. I was 3 steps into the room and all I could hear was "Crunch, Crunch" like I was walking on cornflakes. I looked down and the carpet seemed to be moving.  (I tell you now, I'd be on a chair if it happened here)  I made it to the curtains and pulled them open.  The floor was covered in cockroaches and as the light hit them, they disappeared and after 15 seconds, the room looked immaculate.  This became a holiday treat for me and C, we'd come down each moring and stomp arround that floor like Godzilla invading Tokyo.. 


C and I used to play games outside the shop that would have shock the parents. I'm not going to go into the games, as it'd be, I wonder about his gene pool???  If the kids play things like that now, it'd scare the crap of everyone, it scares me now.

The great thing about the people of Bradford, they were so friendly and open. C's sister, had a great Dane.   A dog so lovely and affectionate.  The thing loved kids.  We went to visit her once, and she told Mum to beware of the dog as it was affectionate.  When we came into the house, there was this horse like creature.  I looked at it and my first thought was, "Can I ride it" (I was only 8) and my second, "Boy that's BIG".  The third thought came when the Dane let out "WUFF", and charged towards us.  I thought, "oh well, Mum's screwed" but to my surprise, he took one look at mum (Who in a really stern voice said "NO!") and veered around her to me.   He looked into my eyes, as the drool and tongue dropped towards the floor, and very gently placed one paw on one shoulder, and the other paw on the other.  He then proceeded to lick my hair.  I was mortified, but it got worse.  He walked forward.  the weight of this monster took me and him to the ground.  He loved this.  He saw it as a way of cleaning all the dirt and grime off my face.  I was his puppy, and be darned if I wasn't going to be a dirty one.

To finish, I'll tell of the perils of drink.  It was a time of celebration and both families went out for a drink or two at the local pub. My Auntie M's husband was lovely and he was the designated driver.  Anyway, the beer and the shorts flowed and the night dragged on.  We got back to the shop and and it got to the stage where Aunty M's husband told her that he'd sleep on his own, and left his drunken wife to it.

The next morning was punctuated by screaming.  We all rushed around to find out were it was coming from.  Mum was there first and it was Aunty M.  She was in tears.  She turned to my mum and Cried, "OH Rhoda, OH Rhoda, It's finally happened.  I've had a stroke and I can't move me legs".  Mum being the practical person she was, said "let's have a look".  With that, she pulled the blankets back and burst into giggles.  "You daft bitch, she said.  "You've got your roll on half way down your legs, no wonder you couldn't move..."

Anyway, I'm going to close, as I'm tired and I want to go to bed.

I'll publish this and if I can find the CD, I'll tell you mum's story in her own words

Night

Boundaries...

I've been gnomed... You probably thinking, "What the hell is he on about?".  Well, I know a gnome, who in reality, is a good friend, who happens to be a gnome.  I can hear the sounds of people, going, "He's certainly committed (OR HE SHOULD BE committed).  HANG ON.

The thing in life as you get older, you loose the sense of magic, you had as a child.  Sometimes you can get it back, with TV shows, movies and books but it's not the same as each one provides boundaries.  It could be the screen (As in Films, TV), or paper as in books.  My friend the gnome, happens to be an old friend is trying to alter that.  He started gnoming ages ago, it wasn't a big thing, the whole idea was to make someone smile.  He took it to the next step, probably because, not only he made that person smile, he got a kick out of giving.

Well it's moved on, the gnome has a family, he has friends and a Facebook page.  He's extending the joy out to people in the world.  I'm a bit of a cynic at times, but I love what he's doing.  I know this gnome, I'm privileged to call him friend.  He'd tell me about his gnoming, I'd grin, and think it was great.  

The thing is though, I'm 58 years old, and tonight, the boundaries fell down, there was magic in my world and I remembered the power of being a child, all through the power of a little ceramic gnome. Thank you Freddie Finwick Fisher and long may you reign...    

Heading for the Abyss

I am getting over a problem with the pipes, and while I'm also playing an online game (I may or may not blog about that...  If I get desperate for ideas) I didn't want to go to far from home in case I got caught short.  I decided to watch "Wuthering Heights" ((A TV Version) and I highly recommend it).

It was scary, I could see Heathcliff and Cathy skidding towards the abyss, and I was so stressed.  I sat there, dismayed as their story played out,  I'd seen so many versions of this, I knew the ending BUT I Still screamed "NOOOOO!".  It's a bizarre thing. but I actually hoped for a happy end.  I was exhausted by the whole thing.

I've not been through anything like this since the great films of the 60's and 70's.  "The Haunting" pulled me in, and not using any CGI scared the crap out of me.  I watched it recently and it still scares me, and leaves me with dread.  "The Exorcist", while weakened by spoofs, still frightens me, and there's the fear of things unknown, the travel through the dark, to pray on the innocent.

This is turning into a supernatural thing, and I didn't particularly want to head in that direction.  There are so many films out there, that can drag you into the abyss.  I'm going to talk about one.  It's a film that doesn't telegraph the abyss, and when it finally comes, it comes like a runaway train.  It's a powerful film and I can honestly say, you want to see a masterclass in acting, it's so worth watching.  Saying that, you'd have to stop me from plucking out my eyes, to get me to watch it again.

The Film's "Jude"(1996) starring Christopher Eccleston and Kate Winslet. and it's a romance.  It's based on a Thomas Hardy Novel and I went to see it with a good friend.  So here's the tale.

It was a cool winter's day and myself and my friend, Linda, were doing what we'd do once a week.  There was two cinema's fairly close together and what we'd do, is pick a film in one and then go on to the second and watch a film there.  I don't know who chose "Jude" but we both enjoyed the classics (TV not Books).  We got our tickets and sat through the previews.  I was expecting a good film and wasn't disappointed as the lights went down and the film started.  (I'm not going to give any of the story away, as I may have flashbacks and I don't particularly want them.  Even though it's a POWERFUL love story, it has an ending, where you not only stare into the abyss (It's behind a curtain) you almost cheerfully leap into the bugger.  I was going to string it out, make a proper tale of it) It was beautifully filmed and it's one of those romances (Like "Romeo and Juliet") that goes against society's moral stance.  They take everything that society throws against them.  You cheer them on, you admire them and you rage against their society that abandons them.  Just as you feel
things may turn, the abyss turns up.  You find yourself being hit by a sledgehammer of grief and remorse as you, Jude Fawley and Sue Bridehead fall into that black darkness.

Well we left that cinema, and I turned to Linda and said "FUCK!" she replied with the heartfelt words, "FUCKITY FUCK FUCK" and I tell you now, if the wasn't railings outside that cinema we'd have been tempted to walk out under a bus.  (Tempted but I doubt if we'd have done it).  It was one of the most powerful films I'd ever seen.  We laugh about it now, but that film broke my heart.

Anyway What's "Tess of the Dubervilles" like? 

Devious - A cat's skill set.

Selly Doing her "Rockstar" and
"Meep Meop"  (reconstruction)

My cat is devious.  I didn't realise this till fairly recently.  I'm not saying she's not loving and fun to have around (She is) but she's devious.  She's not always been devious, but I've notice that she does certain things to get attention, get her way, or get food.

Attention -  This is the obvious.  It starts with the meowing, that usually fails as I'm deaf (But being as, I've had my hearing aids fixed, I now can hear every meow).

She has variations on the meow.

There's the "Meep".  The "meep" lets me know she's looking particularly cute or gorgeous, and to show this, she'll stretch out on the floor, doing her rock guitarist Pete Townsend stance.
There's the "Meep Meop" OK this is a variation on the "meep" but this is done on the bed, and it means "I'm cute and beautiful, I will allow you to stroke me"
Then there's the "Meow meeop", which is given in the kitchen.  This is the "Yeah Bitch, I'm getting my food...  I'm getting my FOOOD!..."

Getting Her Way -

This is one of the nicest things about her.  I have in my living room; a number of chairs and a couch.  Two of the chairs are wooden and not particularly comfortable and  the couch is a pull out bed.  She normally lies on that but she's not happy.  She wants the most comfy chair in the flat.  She does this in a way, you can almost forgive her for her deviousness.  First, she leaps onto the arm of the chair.  She then stares at you.  (Has everyone seen the cat in "Shrek"?.  The one with the BIG eyes? )  Well, Selly has those eyes, and she looks at you with pure love. She'll pause a little and then she starts to purr.  At this stage, you're saying, "I love you, you little shit", and she makes her next move.

She reaches out with a paw, (all the while looking at you) and she places it on your chest.  Then, realising there's no objection to this, she'll follow up with the other three, and then, looking at you, she'll rest her head on your shoulder and start purring (This is the only cat I've known, who can purr loud enough, that I can hear her without my hearing aids).  She lays there, content.  You stroke her and all is right with the world.

She then makes the next move.  She half gets off your chest, and lies with half her body across you, and the other half across the corner of the chair.  This is okay and you carry on stroking her, and carry on getting her purrs.  Then, the master stroke. she starts to wave her tail across your face.  You're mildly irritated at first but you think It'll stop in a minute.  She then increases the wave of the tail.  You feel the urge to push her off and then she then stops and leaps off.  After a predetermined time, she returns and follows the same routine... and repeats until you move...  SUCCESS... 

Getting food

This one doesn't always work and it doesn't happen often but it is irritating.  I go to bed, she spends time on the bed and when I go to sleep, (She knows this, cause I put my book down, put my glasses down) she leaves the bedroom.

I'm now off in dreamland, and she's peckish. She sneaks in, works her way around the bed, jumps up on the chest of drawers and leaps off onto me.  I imagine a flow chart in her head.

1. Any reaction? -No? - Repeat.

                       Yes? - Leave the bedroom as rapidly as possible
      2. Lie on passage floor and do the "Meep" routine...  "It wasn't me"
      3. Go into the kitchen and meow "While You're up...  I don't suppose..."

Sometimes I feed her and other times it's... "ARGH  I'm not feeding you, feck off!!"...  She then retreats to the other bedroom.

It just depends on what kind of day I've had... and she'll return to my bedroom after all this and "Meep Meop" me into submission... and we end up as friends

There you go, her schemes so far...  I wonder if birds or other animals have routines?

Selly Kitten/Cat... Love Catz part 3 - Final Cat/Part

Selly Cat in Smug Mode

(OK the heading does sound like she's an amputee, and she is in a way).  We inherited, Selly Kitten, as a kitten from my great-niece.  Her cat had kittens and she wanted to get them to new homes.  She was down to the last two and she asked Mum to take her little one in.

Since we'd lost Loki, (despite a more extensive search, better organised, we never saw him again) we thought it'd be good for Push Cat to have a friend.  She was a little monster.  Do you know that Warner Brothers cartoon, with the kitten and the bulldog?  Well, that was how Push Cat and Selly Kitten's relationship was like.   She'd walk all over him and he'd allow her to do so.

Around 14 weeks of her life, Selly Kitten's life changed for the worst.  She used to try and sneak out of the flat.  If I'd gone to take out the trash, she'd come too.  One day, i came home from shopping and I had 3 heavy bags.  I opened the door and left it open while I took the bags up.  She got out.  Now, here's the thing, my next door neighbour had 6 cats, and they were all weird.  They'd come up to you, hissing away and expect to be stroked.  I used to, as a joke, call them the local mafia and when I heard the screams and fighting outside, I realised what had happened, Selly Kitten was no where to be seen.  I was frantic with guilt.

I wandered the street in the pouring rain, calling out her name.  Mum looked out of our front window and when I came home, without her, we didn't know what to do.  I went out again and there was no sign.  The next day, started off the same way as before...  POURING RAIN.  I looked out the window, and I could just make out a shape behind an large ornamental plant pot.  Could it be Selly?  I got my coat on and rushed down the stairs.  I crossed the street and sure enough, looking like a drowned rat, there she was.  I picked her up, she was shaking.  I don't know whether it was with fear, or cold but I had to get her warm.  I placed her in my coat and through her damp fur, I could feel the start of a purr.  I bought her home and mum had the fire on at full blast.  She knew she was home. 

She still tried to get out, but the difference was this time was, when I was closing the door, she'd break her neck to get in before the door was closed.  She's been out several times now, the only problem is, she never returns to our door step.  It's now the right side, but a different door.  She also developed some really strange quirks.  There's a  small part of brickwork between Mum's bedroom and the living room,(What is now mine).  Well she'd wait until she knew someone was going to walk by, and then run up that wall, and you'd be surprised to see a cat staring you in the face... from face height.  That wall could never be decorated, as she'd just do the same.  It looks like a child's measurement chart, except where there would be pencil marks, there are claw marks.

She'd run up curtains, just to stare at you.  She loved my Mum and I only got the affection when it was feeding time, and then she's lay it on really thick.  Selly Kitten loved Push Cat.  They'd lay together and she'd try and get him to play.  He was a devious old soul.  He'd wait until she'd leapt  around for an hour, getting closer and xloser to him, and then he'd strike.  He'd strike with the scratching of the back leg, you could see he'd not got his claws extended and then he'd play.  Five minutes later, after all of this, he'd lay down and relax.  Meanwhile, peaking around the corner of the couch, was Selly Kitten.

Selly never really got over Push's death but what she did do was adopt me.  It's funny, I feel like I'm the Alpha cat.  I'll put down her breakfast, and I'll get mine and then she'll go out into the passage and wait for me start eating.  Then she comes in and finishes hers.  She gets upset of I'm not in bed at a certain time.  I have to groom her and she favours me with the loudest purr.  She then lies down on the bed and looks at me.  When I put my book down, she leaves the bedroom.  I then shut my eyes and go to sleep.  When I wake up in the night, I can feel this warm shape against my back.  It's Selly, and she's sharing.

I'm typing this now and because of health problems, I can't sit on a comfy chair, but Selly Cat, (For she's a Cat now...) leaps behind me and just PURRS...

Her life is good

There be Treasure in your street...

Last year, or maybe the year before that, my nephew told me about a way to get fit.  Now, I'm not a big fitness fanatic but, I listened politely ready to dismiss and then, when he said "treasure hunting" (NOT his exact words, but this is known as "artistic license").  I was about to dismiss it as silly... but the word he actually said was, "geocaching".

What this means is that all over the world, are little pieces of treasure.  Now there are strict rules to this thing. first you find out where the caches are on a map.  Then you record the co-ordinates in your mobile/tablet and off you go.  There can be clues (like a pirates treasure map) and when you're looking, you must be discrete... as everybody else in your vicinity are "Muggles" and can't be made aware of the treasure.

  You can, if you want, take a piece of the treasure,  BUT you always should replace it with something else.  You then record your name in a log book. (That's in the Cache). You must replace the cache where you've found it, (Without the "muggles" noticing) and then go look for another  OK that's the basics.  My nephew said, that basically you have to get to a cache site, so that involves walking.  Then the cache is not in plain site, so it may mean, bending, crawling through undergrowth...  (though the author of the cache, actually tells you what may be involved and how difficult it may be to find on the website, so you can actually choose which cache you want to find). 

The caches vary, from magnetic, to plastic and the contents may vary as well.  There maybe a small gift, or just a log book.  There maybe something a little special.  Sometimes. a cache may have a clue, leading to another cache...  Some may even be a history of the town or village where the cache have been hidden.

Anyway, my nephew came to visit last year and he asked me if I wanted to geocache.  I was quite excited, as while I'm no Jack Sparrow, it appealed to me, searching for hidden treasure.  So he got out his fancy phone, with GPS and I got on the website.  To my surprise, there was one, just around the corner.  In fact, every morning when I'm having my juice and toast, I was looking at its location.  I was gobsmacked.  There were loads.  I was really surprised, as I thought, little town and there wouldn't be two many people into it.

He said to me, "You pick" and being as we needed to go to the local shop, (and while it wasn't a strenuous walk, it WAS a walk).  It was a magnetic cache (This meant it would be stuck to something magnetic) and he programmed his phone, and we were off.   I'd looked at the map and had a good idea exactly where the thing was.  It was halfway to it's location when we ran into trouble.   The app on his phone, faded out and he swore.  He then realised that his network probably wasn't working around here.  I told him that it wasn't a complete bust, as I knew the street where it was on.

Now the street, was off a main road and had a steady row of traffic, and there was few pedestrians (Sorry, Muggles) and so, it became "Story time".  I turned to my nephew, "Are you sure you lost it round here?" and we turned quickly and started to peruse the hedge rows.  He marched on, and I got it my head, that he was trying to beat me to it, (He was) and I found myself looking a metallic bolts and also wire...  He then looked at me and said very quietly, "I've found it".  It was just like "Carter at the tomb" and he said to me, "Can you see it?"  I stared at where he was standing, and all I could see was.... (not going to tell you as, maybe someone might read this).  We opened the "tomb"...  (okay, it was really a tin sweet box) and inside was a small figure, a jack and a logbook).  He then asked for a pen.  To my horror, I realised we'd not bought one, and then he asked for the small figurine (It was a pot dog curled up asleep) and I'd forgot to pick it up...  BUT as we replaced it... (Making sure there was no muggles around) he asked me if I'd "enjoyed it".  To my surprise, I'd loved it.

If you just want to see what it's all about

http://www.geocaching.com/

Love Catz - Part 2

Push Cat preparing to dance

Push-Cat

Push-cat was bought because we felt that Loki needed a friend.  It was a weird day, when we went to pick the kitten that was going to be Loki's new pal.  Mum said, "We mustn't get another male" and I agreed.  The woman that was giving away the kitten, let us into her house and she went to fetch the kittens to show us.  The thing we noticed about Push, was that he sooner play with us, he came across fearlessly and stuck his head in Mum's shopping bag.  I was immediately taken by this scrap of fluff.  Mum pointed out that we're "not having another male" and poor Push was picked up, and his private area was looked at. (OK with all these "He"'s  you can guess the result, and yes) Mum pronounced we'd got a really nice female.

We took the "Female" home and Loki hated it.  He'd torment this poor kitten but we were determined to make sure that Loki knew he was the "Alpha" male, so he'd get fed first.  Slowly, ever so slowly, Loki came round, until one fateful day, Push got out.  We were in despair.  I printed out at least 200 flyers and wandered the streets looking.  We knock on doors and it looked hopeless. Then, 48 hours later, Push came home.  He was dragging his back leg, and I could see that it had been torn open and I could see bone.

We rushed him to the local vet and he told us that it looked like someone had slammed his leg in a door.  He advised us that he could either remove the leg, or it would be a long and drawn out job, involving tablets and coming in 3 times a week, to dress his leg.  This would be very expensive.  We honestly couldn't afford either but the vet took pity on us, and told us to take Push to the PDSA.

The PDSA is a charity organisation who looks after sick animals in the UK.  We went and because I'm partially deaf, Push got a new name.  The nurse came out and called out a name.  I was listening intently but missed it, I also missed it the second time, but then, when she called out a third time, I picked it up and so, Push Cat Smith was born.  I loved that cat, I held him down, so that they could look at the leg and treat it.  The nurse had her hand inside his leg, and was wiping the dirt out and all Push did was lick my hand.

We went 3 times a week and the nurse dressed and cleaned the wound, I got licked and we came home, (after I'd gave hime the biggest hug and told him, "Your a brave boy").  This carried on for 4 months and in that time it was a struggle to get the tablets down him.  It was awful, he'd hobble away and hide under the beds.  It got to the last week and the Vet told me it was still "touch or go to whether we could save his leg".  It was going to go to the wire.

The final week, was so tense.  We managed to get his tablets down him, but on that week's second visit, I was told, "It's looking like he's going to lose his leg".  I was quite upset for him and on the Friday, I was really upset, when I took him there for the last time.  I'd been told that I'd be able to pick him up on that day, so I decided that I'd spend a few hours round Nottingham.  I'd phone Mum up for updates, but there were none.  Then there was one, and I couldn't contain my joy.  They'd unwrapped the dressing and there was enough muscle and skin to save his leg.  Mum said "While you're doing that, then you might as well, chop his bollocks off as well, as it'll save an extra visit" (Ever practical my Mum).

He grew older with me and developed his own little quirks.  I'd come in from shopping to find him at the top of the stairs.  He'd raise his front paw, and splay the claws.  It was just like he was giving me a high five.  I'd return the gesture, and he'd go into the kitchen.  He used to wait for me at the top of the street and after a small fuss, he'd shadow me, all the way home.  I'd be on the pavement, he'd be running from front yard to front yard on my left.  I always felt that he was looking out for me.

Meal times were fun, as he'd spin and go up on his back paws.  He'd then, like a prima ballerina, spin, with his front paws raised in the air.  I loved him for it.  I still miss him.

Tomorrow

Selly Kitten

But IS it Art?

I know I'm 58, but I've fallen in love with a comic tale.  It's called " The Abominable Charles Christopher" and it's just wonderful.  Each week, we get a continuation of the storyline.  Sometimes, the author strays but even when straying, the story's still great.  It has Humour

http://abominable.cc/post/62957390299/misty-mountain-hop

You can relate to it - Me last Thursday

http://abominable.cc/post/44164796353/episode-one


Going out with Eddie

http://abominable.cc/post/44165398301/henpecked
http://abominable.cc/post/44165972855/afterparty
http://abominable.cc/post/44167034774/cure-for-a-hangover

Drama

http://abominable.cc/post/44165634538/out-of-the-jaws-of-death
http://abominable.cc/post/44165821251/to-protect-and-serve
http://abominable.cc/post/44165909166/safe-and-sound

Psychiatry

http://abominable.cc/post/44167899342/a-little-shrink


AND Finally My favourite travel companion.

http://abominable.cc/post/44167237887/travelling-companion
http://abominable.cc/post/44167467957/footprints-in-the-snow
http://abominable.cc/post/44167658670/christmas-break
http://abominable.cc/post/44168047853/scaling-the-summit
http://abominable.cc/post/44168101873/i-am-the-wind
http://abominable.cc/post/44169618028/whats-in-a-name


Anyway, Off to bed

Night or Morning

Love Catz - with apologies to "The Cure"

Well this is a right "Tata", I've been asked "Where's the new post?" and here it is.  I know what Suzy goes through now, trying to find an idea for a new post.  I think the easiest way, is to look to the past for inspiration.  This means, because of the title, it's going to be (and sorry to Lollipop, Piper and Corky) "Cats of my past". So, let us begin...

TC

We had TC as a kitten and he was very affectionate.  I remember him bossing the other kittens around, when we got him and so, he got his name, TC (Top Cat) and he grew up quite nicely, unto my sister and her kids moved in with us.  I'm not blaming the kids in any way, or form but, like the child that tries to run down pigeons in the park,they got enjoyment chasing TC around.  I think he was slightly deranged to begin with, but this pushed him over the edge.  It became, Vietnam in this flat, with the kids being, U.S.A. and TC as the Vietcong.  He'd snipe at them from under beds.  They'd walk into rooms in their bare feet and he'd swipe out with his claws open and draw blood, and then disappear.  He became a scary cat.  What happen, or I believe what happened, my brother took him to a farm, and the farmer told him the kill ratio of the rats in the area went up, and it was all because of T(VC)C

Flash 

I can't remember too much about Flash, apart from his skill to run up and down curtains and the speed he traveled around the flat.  (Hence his name) I believe he was Mum's cat.

Half-Pint

She was Mum's and they loved each other.  It was funny as when she was born, she was the runt of the litter.  She could, (and Mum tried this) fit into a half-pint mug, hence the name.  She'd notice me in her own good time but Mum got all the love.  There was a time when we had a flea infestation.  We would get the flea powder and scatter in around.  Then we'd put flea medicine on the cat.  It was in ampule form and you had to squeeze it on the nape of the neck.  Half-Pint would only allow Mum to do it.

The fun thing, for her and Mum, was killing any left over fleas.  She'd lie on Mum's lap, and Mum would part her fur, grab the flea and squeeze it between her thumb and forefinger's nails.  There would be an exclamation of delight from Mum , "Got you, you little bugger!!!" and all you got from Half-pint was a steady increase in her purr. 

Loki

Loki was my cat.  He was one of those cats that was a real joy to own (I say own, but I don't think you own a cat...  It basically lives with you and plots world conquest, one human at a time. )  Loki, would sleep on my bed, and in the morning, he'd gently, ever so gently, pad to the head of the bed.  He'd then lick my nose, really gently.  I'd awake, and I'd get a head butt and then he'd wait till I crawled out of bed and then he'd go to the bottom of the stairs to be let out. Thirty minutes later, I'd open the door, and there he'd be.  He'd wait at the top of the stairs and then, casually go into the kitchen for his breakfast.  While waiting for his breakfast, he'd make casual conversation.  A few "meows and meeps" and it seemed to me he was giving me, the update of the neighbourhood.

OK That's PART 1

Sisters, Sisters... War... What is it good for...

OK, This is going to be mainly about my sister, Mary, (Who I love a lot...).  We were never real friends until she left to get married.  I guess that it was absence making the "heart go fonder (nearly typed "Fonda" there).  Before she left I was just my brother's minion.  We'd torture her and she'd torture me.  This sounds a little warped, and I guess it is BUT thinking back, it was funny.  There was a time, when we thought about taking her favourite doll, and cover it with ink spots.  I'd then go to her and say, "You doll's developed the worse case of Small pox ever seen".  She looked at me, seething a slowly walked away.

When I came home, she rushed up to me, feigning despair.  "Kenny, Kenny, Come quick, there's been an accident".  I rushed up the stairs into my bedroom and she followed.  I opened my door, and lying on my bed, was my "Action Man" (Similar to a "GI Joe") his legs were separated from the body, arms twisted into an impossible position... From behind me, I could hear her voice. "A road traffic accident" she snickered...

There were various attacks of attrition through my childhood...  but I learnt that siding with my brother wasn't a good idea...  as when the prank was over, I was easy prey for my sister.  The only effective way, I could deal with it, was to be the best whiny brat, that I knew I could be.  I behaved myself and listened.  When ever she was going to the cinema, I'd whine, I'd moan (only after making sure than Mum was in the general area).  This would get a result, 90% of the time...  She'd drag me of to the local flea pit, to see whatever movies, her friends and her were going to see.

I was quite happy, I knew that I'd see a film and she'd make sure there was limited contact...  Which suited her well.  She'd drag me down the front, place me in a chair with popcorn and a drink, and then threaten me with evisceration, if "I bothered her".  It wasn't something that came to mind, when I was watching a movie...   Though having a giant white whale leaping toward you, does tend to scare the crap out of you..  Everything changed when my brother got married...

There was one time when she sent me to bed, I think mum and dad had gone out, and she'd snuck her boyfriend in.  They were getting comfy on the settee, the lights were down and I was fuming.  I wandered around the upstairs.  I knew my options were limited.  I then found a skin mag of my brother's.  I looked through and found the centre page pin-up.  I walked down the stairs, hands behind my back, butter wouldn't have melted in my mouth. They stopped what they were doing and looked at me...  "What do you want, Brat?" she asked.  "I looked her in the eyes and making sure the boyfriend was looking, like a great magician, I produced the skin mag..  ..."THIS is what my Sister looks like in the nuddy..." I announced, allowing the middle page pin-up photo spread to fall open.  Well, you could have read a book, from the light off her red rosy cheeks.  I knew I was going to die, but it was worth it.

On school holidays, because both our parents worked, we weren't allowed home.  We had to go with mum to her works.  She worked as a cook at Trent College and we had to sit quietly, until she'd finished her job and we could come home.  The advantage of mum's job was that after everybody had been served, the cooking staff were allowed to take home the giant industrial sized bottles of custard, or chocolate sauce, or gravy.... (Which mysteriously had slices of beef in).  I was an avid reader at the time, and I must have been reading "The Hobbit".  My Sister noticed this, and asked me, "what it's about?".  I told her, "It's about Halflings, Dwarves, Elves and stuff", and she then asked me if I was into "Elves". I said "they were OK", and  she told me that she had a trick to make me look like an elf.  This intrigued me and we went out into the corridor.  She then spun me around, reached for the top of my left ear and squeezed it together into a point.  I squealed  but she told me to stop being a "cry baby" and let go.  She told me to look in the refection of the window, and sure enough...  my ear was pointed...  She then said, "Lets do the other one..." "Sod that for a bunch of soldiers", I thought, and rushed back into the kitchen.  (To this day, I'm half elf/half human.. (OK not checked recently but it was still there in my twenties... LOL)).

Things changed when she left home, she got married, and had 3 wonderful kids.  I grew up and started work and on occasion, I would visit her.  We'd chat, and generally have a good time.  We'd hug, like proper brothers and sisters.  There was the occasional mishap, but none carried the malevolence of our childhood.  She once asked me to cut her hair. " I want it, layered", she asked.  I looked at her slightly confused and she said "Shaped like steps... you know".  She then made the zigzag motion of stairs.  This confused me even more but I now loved her and was willing to make an effort.  I kept getting "How's it going?" from her, and I told her "shush, I'm concentrating" and thought it was a bizarre request but I'd done a cracking job.  From the left side, it was shoulder length, then it went up a step, then again up a step, until it reached the right and it was a bob.  When she saw, she called me all the names under the sun, but she had to admit it was "nicely stepped".

We got on really well and after a brief spell living with mum and me she moved to Blackpool, (where she lives now)  She's gone through hell, health wise, and her courage and strength is an inspiration to me.  I could put down all her health problems but she just takes one day at a time... She and I get on, and I love her so much.  I wrote this post so that you'd all get to know her.  (Well 3 off you would... LOL)

Half A Story That I wrote... a la Ernie Wise

I woke up in the bathroom and instead of waking up in a heap on the floor, I was standing in front of the sink. I swilled my face, dried and looked in the mirror. I need to shave and so went about my normal routine but it was after I applied my aftershave, I saw her. Superimposed over my face, was a woman, young, flowing hair, pretty and the mouth opened and I heard, “My name is Izzy Thorogood and I died a witch”. It was then I passed out.

No one knew how the society had been created but it was rumoured to be centuries old. I came into it indirectly after what could be described as a serious mental breakdown. I believed I was possessed by the spirit of a dead witch. I was quite surprised to find out that, in reality, it was a past life bleeding through into my reality.

I supposed the society could be compared to Christian scientists, in the sense that it was almost an monastic order and ruled virtually by a mixture of science and religion. It was broken up into various orders and each order took a various science. I was placed in an obscure branch of the sciences, when during a therapy session, I mentioned that the room that “we” were in looked better as a library. While this was taken as my neurosis “kicking” in, it was the mention of the priest hole that sold me into the hands of the society. There was knowledge of the priest hole, but it's location remain a mystery until my voice popped up and mentioned that she had used it several times.

Was placed into the care of father Edward Carmedy, an Oxford educated scientist stroke priest who told me how rare my condition was. He further explained that if I wanted, he could exorcise Izzy from my head but that it could just mean that another relative would take her place, and they may be an even blacker branch of my family tree. The secret was to co-opt Izzy to work with me and she'd work like a gatekeeper. She could be trained as she seemed quite “progressive”. The number of “Pre-sights” that had gone insane after being yanked from their time to now numbered in the hundreds. Some of the world's greatest serial killers were possessed by “pre-sights”. They were normal people driven to kill by insane “Pre-sights” unable to cope with the real world.

I for one believed that past life regression was a load of bunk but after being institutionalised for several years. I was assigned to a new therapy. This therapy had been designed by the society. It consisted of a darkened room and a administered drug. This is where I met Elizabeth Thorogood, my witch and the person who possessed me. OF course, I didn’t know who she was there until later. I found that I was one of the rare individuals that could read my genetic material. I could communicate with my ancestors. Even rarer, they could see through me and they showed me things hidden to the ordinary.

The society's building seemed to be as old as them and for some reason, the ghosting effect didn't occur in the building. Father Edward said that this was because I was channelling Izzy's world and this was an area that Izzy hadn't visited. They really needed to talk to her to find out the areas that she been. The reason behind this, apart from my health, they could use Izzy's knowledge to fill in the history of the period. He explained that while historians knew quite a bit about her time period. All the information came from the educated. She was a new source of knowledge. This was the reason behind the past life regression sessions. I was rather disturbed that I  had a vague recollection of a number of these sessions. Father Edward explain that this was because my body needed time to adapt to the drug used.

Part two - Pre-training

You're probably wondering what all that had to do with dying??? and to be honest, it has nothing to do with dying, I'm just building up to it... I might not go there, as there's a stigma about talking about dying. We don't want to be reminded that we can die. The next thing tale is a little bit morbid but I still see the funny side to it.

I was on a ward and I'd gone with the same routine, admitting a patient. My mentor, a male nurse, was shit hot on things and I'd got quite a bit of praise, in my communication skills. As we walked away from the patient, I asked him "what should do now". He told me to return to the patient and "ask her if she needs anything". I went back and she told me she'd forgotten her "nightie".

I went to ask a nurse were the spare nighties were kept, and she told me "at the end of the ward, 3rd cupboard down", so off I went. I got to the end of the ward and there was 6 cupboards (3X3). I counted three cupboards down and sure enough, there was the frilly nighties. I did a guesstimate (I honestly don't believe that's a word) and took the lady two night gowns. She was thrilled by the nighty and after I returned the nighty it was time for me to go home.

I came onto the ward the next day, and my mentor burst into laughter. After checking there was no breakfast stuck to my face, I asked "what was funny?" and he told me that "the whole staff would like me to return to the ward, if and when I qualify", because they'd never had such a laugh. Even one of the surgeons thought it was funny. It seems that the night gown I'd bought up was something they'd dress a body in when the took it to the morgue. The surgeon thought it was a comment on his surgical skills. I did think it a little strange that the nighty had a crucifix embroided to it.

Training -

When we trained we had to have 2 week placements at different skill sets. So, it maybe, "care of the elderly" and you'd be on an elderly ward, (I was placed in a wonderful Nursing Home) "Mental Health" and in a mental health hospital. my placement was "child care" and I was placed in a junior school. I honestly don't know what would be the American equivalent but these kids were around 5.

I was nervous, as am built like a brick shit house and didn't want to scare the kids. I came and had a coffee in the teachers lounge and I was told that I'd be teaching a group of kids while my mentor would teach another in the same classroom. I could devise my lesson plan and I thought that it'd be fun to look at volume. I took my group to one side and there was a trough full of water and containers. I asked them if I filled up a container full of water, would it be then able to fill another up of a different size. This is where it gets really irritating... The boys always got the thing wrong.

At break time I was told to take to the playground and basically make sure everyone played nicely. There was a couple of little girls who were swearing at each other. I went across and told them off. They told me they were playing "Mummies and Babies". I said "surely it's "Mummies and Daddies"?" The reply I'd got was, "Nah, he's buggered off and I've got to raise this little brat on my own..." She did say she loved the child though.

During the last week of my placement. I was told that I'd been adopted by a child. I didn't realise this, as they were so small. The little kid was a problem child and all the other teachers were having problems with him. I know this sounds like I'm going to save the day, but I didn't. He was a smart kid but he would go out and play till late and would only come home if his mum fetched him. It had got to the stage to where he was confined to his bedroom. He'd get out by climbing down the house's drainpipe. It seemed he shared the bedroom with his sister. The next thig mum did was remove all his clothes and confine him to his room, and he'd be out in his sister's dress. I did talk to him about all this, but I don't think it changed anything as I left the placement. I did admire him though and wonder about his gender image... lol