Internal strife...........

I think most people know the Native American story of the two wolves. A very wise story. It is true, we have two sides to ourselves some times more than two. I am very conscious of this in my own life. I struggle daily to get the good wolf to be upermost in my life. Most of the time I think he is, but I can hear the other one grumbling not too far below the surface.
I spend quite some time on Facebook. I love it for keeping in touch with my cousins in England and in Australia and friends throughout the world. I have joined a few groups and some are about animals and fightin against cruelty, finding homes for abandoned dogs and cats. I like to think that spreading the word helps. I have had to stop though, I can no longer take seeing how evil some people are. The cruel things they do to helpless animals the way they throw away and old dog simply because he is old or sick. Or worse leaving him chained in an abandoned basement or yard to starve to death.

I wont mention some of the hideous things I have seen as I don't want you to have that image in your mind. My wolf who is buried deep inside comes to the surface and is so angry he could kill and maim.....he is so full of hate and loathing for those people who commit those crimes. I have a job to get him back down in his cave and chain him again..............he has to be chained so as to keep him there. He is not a normal wolf, not a wolf at all (animals do not behave that way) I use that image unfairly because of the Indian story. My wolf is a demon.................

I try not to use the word hate. I know I must love even the most unlovable. It is not for me to judge others and all that. I do try, try so hard but when I see the evil in the world I can not help myself. I feel the chains getting weaker............so I have stopped getting some of those posts even though people need to be aware. People need to stop buying fur for one thing. Find out, educate yourself as to where that fur comes from. Its not that animals are killed for their fur so much as the conditions they live in and the methods of killing. Such cruelty. I hear the chains begin to rattle.............puppy mills..........don't buy from pet shops. Again, educate yourself. When buying from a breeder, see the parents of the puppy.ask for references. Do the right thing.

Don't buy animals as gifts unless you know they are welcome into a forever home.It's not just about animals. War is evil...........hunger is evil..........homelessness is evil.....making people beg for food and be denied health care because they can not afford it. Who are we to judge who is deserving of help? It's all evil and my wolf is tugging at his chains now.......Selfishness, making self the center of all. Face it, we cant take anything with us when we leave this world, we brought nothing in. Why are we so obsessed with things.? No other animal does what man does. No other animal collects so much stuff that they cant move it or leave it. We will fight to he death over what is "ours" .........well I have news folks, if you can not let go of a possession then it possesses you and not the other way around.
My wolf is angry now and feels the chance of coming up to the light.

Jesus tells us to love one another. To give to the poor, to comfort the lonely and surely He would want us to do what we can to stop abuse of animals and children. He has us in a certain place in the world and we must bloom where we are planted. I can not stop what happens in another country, not in any meaningful way not with my lack of resources. I can speak up though. I don't need to see it to know evil exists. I must calm my wolf. Pet him and settle him down again. I will not allow hatred to get a grip in my heart. We can not say "why does God not do something about it" HE DID, he put us/me here on earth and we must share the blame if we cover our eyes. We must not be a part of the problem. I have things to resolve in my own life, I can not inspect another's life or motives. For now my wolf is calm. I know he is there but he will never be free as long as I believe that God has a plan, that God will some day see to it that justice is served. I feel sorry for my evil wolf.............maybe he didn't mean to be bad, but he is and I can not afford to be soft with him. I can not ever let him loose.

Dreaming...............

What are dreams?...........do you ever think about that? I do. I have some amazing and puzzling dreams. I know they are in colour and they are sometimes like a movie. It's like I live another life inside my head. Is that me?.......I mean is the person in my dreams my spirit/soul? How does my mind process in pictures my thoughts. Does a blind person dream in the same way. I am serious, I don't know. Well I just researched that. I guess it depends. SO....back to what are dreams. My dreams are vivid and in colour.

In my dreams I can fly, I can swim under water and breath. It a glorious feeling, is that our natural state? Should we be able to fly? What if?

That is sort of how I feel sometimes. We are born into the world knowing nothing and not knowing we know nothing, we trust our mother without knowing what trust is. Yet even babies dream. Dogs dream, cats dream so I would imagine all animals dream. About what? It cant be all about our life experiences. I have dreams about a particular person, a guy, I don't know him in life yet I meet him now and then in my dreams. I recognize him, I love him I think.

I dream of houses. I used to dream of my grandmother a lot when I was a kid and of her house, although it was not really her literal house I know in my dream that its hers. I used to dream of her when I was sad or in trouble. I knew she was someone to go to and was the rainbow over the hill. Now I dream of her home in a different way, I know its hers (but its not) and I seem to have this thing about antiques. There was a house I found in my dreams and its attic was full of antiques. Well I have been in other dreams and have known that I have this furniture tucked away somewhere, so in my dreams I remember from one to another.

Sometimes my dreams are about my every day life but not often. Peopled with people I know or have known and I can tell why I am dreaming about what I am because it has come up during the day. Thats unusual though. I wonder really if we work things out in our dreams. That may be true sometimes but I am not sure I believe in symbolism. I mean I dream of snakes because in my dream I am in a place where I would worry about snakes like in real life. I dream of horses because I love horses. I see nothing symbolic about them, they are what they are.

Anyway I am questioning reality..........since my sister in law just died. When a person is in a coma where does she go. Is she dreaming or is she drifting beyond this world? Is she getting ready for eternity or is she just "not there" What is the mind, thinking, dreaming, is it "US" our spirit/soul the real me. So that when I die that part of me goes back to where it came from before birth. When does it enter the infant, at conception or first breath. It was not until God breathed life into Adam that he became a living soul. So...is it upon that first breath that life enters us. Then what are we before that? Just a possibility?. Sigh!!!! What about when we have dementia? Do we drift off into the past? Do we meet with old friends on a differemt plane so that it becomes less desirable to return to this world? Are there different realities? God said he saw us in the womb, he knew us before the founding of the earth, so we must have always existed on some level.

I am a Christian and so I do believe there is a life after death, that there are other realities I just can't quite figure out the connections. I know I am not supposed to but still I find it very fascinating and so death to me is the ultimate adventure. I am thinking a lot about my sister in law and I wonder if she has met Mr Mondela,I suppose its possible but I would think that its rather like the airport on a busy day........probably takes awhile to get through customs haha and he was a day behind.

Saying Goodbye.............

A sad day today. My sister in law Janice is in hospice. What can I say.............I came here to the USA in 1971 I have known her since then. Over the years we were not close but I enjoyed her company when I could. In the early years, when we were young we saw each other more than in recent years. She is a Georgia girl, came from a family very unlike the one we married into. We had that in common. She lived here in Traverse City in those days and so I saw them more often than in later years. They live in Florida now and we still live in Michigan. Her kids are here, well two of the 3 are. I feel so bad for them, and her husband. Janice was waiting for a new liver. That never happened. She was on the list for a transplant but truly was never well enough. She had been in and out of hospital the last 3 years. I think she got tired of it all. My other sister in law said she didn't follow through with what the doctors told her to do. I think she probably had enough and that got her to where she is today.

My Dad was a POW in Japan and because of that he had health issues his entire life. He had several surgeries on his stomach and later his gall bladder. Each time something seemed to happen that made it not at all straightforward. So when he had a leak in a heart valve he had pretty much decided that was it for him. I was over here and he back in England. No one told me until he was actually in the hospital. They didnt want me to worry or try to get home. They felt I could not do anything so I should be told when I could not try.........I could have prayed.......well as it turned out he didn't survive. I believe he never intended to. He had been seen walking by his fathers old house and throughout the village, remembering. Saying goodbye as it was.

I can understand that. We are only here for a season. When its time to go I think our body starts to prepare itself and connects to the mind in a way that makes the transition acceptable to us. Its different if you have small children, we know we must fight for life but, once our normal "duties" are complete and our kids as settled as they can be, then we can accept when its our time...............I believe Janice knew it was hers and was ready. After all she has been through, to remain probably did not seem worth the fight. Even with a new liver and all that would entail, it would have been a very long haul and apparently she was not willing to do that. The alternative was better. I would be that way I think. Its not something to fear, death is a part of life and living and is a transition like birth is. We can not know whats ahead the day we are born into this world as a helpless baby, we relied on our mother............now, in death we rely on our Father HE will not let her down. She is in good hands now. I know when its my turn that my Dad will be waiting along with my friends who have gone and who I dream of so often.......and soon my sister in law.

I am glad Janice's kids made it down to Florida and that she was able to wait for them. It's hard to say goodbye, but its really see ya later..............enjoy your reunions Janice there will be plenty of rejoicing when you get home. As for me....see ya later alligator.

Dunstable Downs............

The town near where I grew up is what used to be called a "Market Town" ....Dunstable. It was built up around a cross road around 1109 on the old Roman Rd that was built in the very first century, the Watling Street. An abbey was built there, that survived the dissolution during Henry V111 rule and became a church called "The Priory" The funeral procession of Queen Eleanor spent the night in Dunstable on her way to Westminster Abbey and an Eleanor Cross stood there for many years. Henry had his annulment from Catherine of Aragon announced from there. Dunstable being but 30 odd miles from London had frequent royal visitors from
the Conquest onwards.

Growing up in a small village Dunstable was the nearest town to us. It was within walking distance. We walked everywhere. Maybe a couple of miles across the fields maybe less. The path we called "Dog Kennels" was the chosen route. It was called that because our local Squire kept his horses and hounds near the village green and the path ran behind there. Anyway, we would walk through "Rabbit Lane" across a few fields to a footpath that led to Dunstable. It came out conveniently by the town center. If we walk via the road we had to walk all the way through town. It was also scenic and looked out over fields, farms and the cement work pitts. At a distance they looked like lakes. As much as I hate Fox hunting, it was a part of village life and always has been. So our village had the horses and hounds

Having walked that far it was still a long way to go to reach the Downs. Dunstable Downs. Chalk hills that run like fingers in the southern and middle part of England. The Chiltern Hills are the official name but to us they are just Dunstable Downs. Home to Whipsnade Zoo and The London Gliding club these days.

Its a beautiful place to walk and for kids to play. All sorts of community events take place there. For me though just a place to hang out. Take picnics and when we were teens court boys.

Very often we would take a picnic and sit on the side of the hills enjoying the views. We could be sitting there enjoying a sandwich and watch a Wallaby hop on by. They would escape periodically from the zoo and live there in total happiness. A bit disconcerting for the picnic person who wondered who else may be wandering around. They do take the elephants for a walk sometimes, all in a row holding tails. Not to worry they are inside the fences. I think?????. Some creatures can get out the gates though they have cattle grids but...........well some deer and the smaller things that wander outside their pens, like the peacocks do make that bid for freedom, but I think they also know where the food is so.

When we were teens our favourite dance hall was at the foot of the Downs, so often enough it was a great courting spot with great views at night. Not sure we noticed though.
The flowers and butterflys and wee beasties all a part of English Downlands.............we loved to look for as kids. A whole different way of life. Country life at one with the creatures and land around us. Loving nature and simple things. Walking and climbing all kept us fit and healthy and happy.

Laying on the grass, watching clouds, seeing shapes in them.........picking the harebell and listening to the bees drone in the clover. Yes the simple life.

My England................

I finished reading "A Fine Romance" ......I didn't want it to end. Every page was wonderful. It made me so homesick. It made me determined to go back soon. Susan Branch has an eye for what makes England so special. The details, the things she notices. The things I love. Only someone who truly loves the place would see it as she does. So..........what is it?

One of her comments was that everything in England seems to have been made by hand. Places as old as Stonehenge and the cottages that have thrived for 500 to 800 years. The gardens that surrounds the castles and the cottages. The fact that the National Trust keeps things for posterity. People have no reserves in handing off their property to give to the country. Its so wonderful. In the days when the aristocracy dominated the lands and were the owners of vast properties, there came a time when the money runs out and rather than sell to be built on they gave it to us all. Forever. So our children and grandchildren can enjoy it forever into the distant future. Their legacy lives on and we can share it. So many of them open the homes they still live in so that their art treasures can be seen and appreciated. The amount that they get from the public may help them somewhat but it must cost a fortune (that many no longer have) to keep those places running and so when they reach the end of their pockets then the National Trust can carry on.

We have had "The Green Belt" a vast stretch of land surrounding the city that is supposed to always stay "green" meaning no more building. Or only with a special permit. Some people have got through the restrictions somehow but its rare. So we can be assured that some country lasts for the wild things.
The hedgerows and meadows protected. As they should be. Some of those hedgerows have been there forever. They are a work of art. For someone who is not a farmer or a country person, or even British to appreciate that thrills the heck out of me. Susan Branch got it, understood and appreciated it. She was there at the right time for all the best things that England has to offer. The Spring, between May and June. You will see the lambs, the bluebells and all the wildflowers.
Primrose and Cowslip

The oldness of it all, the history of it all...............I love the very dirt of England and all thats buried in it. Is that strange? There is so much under the surface, all our ancestors hidden in lost places along with their story. I could never never never give up my loyalty for my country. I could never be anything but English. She made me feel that in every bone of my body. I am grateful that I read that book. I treasured every page of it. Then there is our lovely Queen Elizabeth and her family. I have never been able to take that oath of citizenship, to be an American, it says that I owe no fealty to any King or Queen and only to the United States. I can't do it. It says "without reservation" ........nope just cant do it, I cant say it with my fingers crossed. I have to mean it, to want it and I don't.

She even liked the food. Susan that is. I never understood how England got the reputation for bad food because I think its awesome. Don't get me started

Then there are the country roads. The animals

I could go on and on and on...............I found Susan Branch's blog, I am so happy with that and will enjoy that now. I am sad I finished the book but I won't put it away, not yet. I am going to explore some of her other books because she has shared some good recipes.
So for now I am saving my pennies and I hope she goes back and writes another book haha.................or maybe I will.

A Fine Romance.............

I bought a book recently, I can't remember why now. I sent for it from Amazon and it took ages for me to get it. Well once it came I fell in love. "A Fine Romance" by Susan Branch. It is hand written and is a journal of her and her husbands trip to England. The sub title is "Falling In Love With the English Countryside". I think originally I wanted it for its drawings as well as subject matter. In any case I am more than half way and never want it to end.

What I love about it is her joy in all the things I love about England. The simple every day life. The Hedgerows, the wild flowers, the lambs and the cottages. She has a thing about Beatrix Potter. Her delight is contagious. Having read Beatrix Potters books as a child (didnt we all?) I understand her love. Beatrix was an extraordinary human being. The money she earned from her books went into buying up land and farms and giving it to the National Trust so it will always be there for everyone


Anyway Susan Branch is an artist and author and had gone to England on her Honeymoon, so they decided to go back for two months of wandering the English countryside.
They began in the south, in Kent and traveled to the Lake District and went to all the places they always wanted to see. She kept this journal and illustrated it with her drawings and photos she took. It's amazing. I would buy one for everyone I know who loves England but it took ages for me to get this one. I see there are some again now on Amazon. I don't want this book to end. I have sent for about 3 of her other books, not the same thing, they are cook books (and this one has some recipes in it).............if you have never seen England you will fall in love. If you have been you will want to go back. Me? Well I am saving for my next trip.

Back Home......

My Facebook page "Houghton Regis back in the day....." has been doing well. An old friend joined today, I have known her since I was 4. I remember the day we met. Her mum came over to meet my mum, we had not been moved in long ourselves, into council houses that mum and dad put in for as soon as Dad got home after the war. Well Jennifer was with her mum and both of us were hiding behind our mums and peeping around. I can still see her in my mind, we were both about 4 years old. Pretty soon we were in the same class at school. My friend Margaret, who lived on the farm was also at the same school and once our mums met, Margaret would come up on the bus in the morning and wait at my house to go to school. We would walk together. We did that all throughout our school years, holidays and weekends I was down at her house on the farm.
Anyway.......Jennifer is now in the group on Facebook and we are catching up.

In that picture, taken at "Top School" ........Jennifer is standing on the left and Margaret on the extreme right. I dont know where I was or why I am missing.
Anyway, today we were talking about our outside toilets. Jennifer and I lived on Bidwell Hill and our toilets were outside at this point. So were the ones at school for that matter. They were built with a gap in the door at top and bottom, no idea why because they were at school as well. This is just like the one at our house except we did have a window.

Margaret, down on the farm was not as lucky, theirs was outside but a hole in the ground. With a nice wooden seat. Jennifer said her job was to cut and string the newspaper for toilet paper and remembers it made her white knickers black. Just had to share that.
Well........its fun to talk and to share our childhood. I am getting to know other kids from the village. Learning about their lives so similar to my own. Country life at its best. Total freedom. Something we all shared and treasured. No fear, no worry, no crime. Well........only the childhood escapades of the local boys who did what boys did for generations before them.

Talking of local boys.......here is "speedy" our local "copper".....called speedy because he rose his bike at leisure. We first met him, Trevor Davis when my Dad and I were out shopping in Dunstable. We almost got hit on a Zebra crossing and PC Davies came to our house to get the information from Dad. They became fast friends. PC Davies was always up on Bidwell Hill visiting the Moles over the road. Hehe....the Mole kids were always in trouble. A family of 4 boys. Patrick said he saw more of Speedy than his dad hehe. Joke..........well PC Davies liked his tea with a touch of whisky in it and would often stop in for a cup before finishing his rounds that took him down Bidwell Hill to be sure the Red Lion pub was closed on time and probably to nip in for a quick one before his ride back up the hill. On a cold night he might also stop in on the way back. The village boys were the bane of his existence. They did things with his bike one would think impossible. My Dad, as a lad was the same way and no doubt the village copper at that time had it far worse than Speedy did because my Dad had lots more brothers. Most of our games were harmless and fun. We all had dens

They took time to build and especially if we did them underground. I was lucky to have friends whose dads didnt work on their gardens and did not mind at all when we dug holes in the garden and put on tin roofs. We played harmless games

and made what we called chassis........

I have probably written about all this before but it comes to mind after a day of chatting to these old friends. Well, not a day, you know what I mean if you go on Facebook yourself. On and off during the day is what I mean.
This is not what I originally was going to write about. I have been busy cropping and enlarging old photos of the village. I got into that while looking for a picture I was going to post and got distracted. I forgot what I was originally going to write............so thats it till I remember.

Semper Fi..........................

November 11.......The Marine Corps Birthday and Armistice day 11.11.11 Semper Fi.


My son in law was/is a Marine (once a Marine always a Marine), he married my daughter Laura and became a recruiter. Both my boys were encouraged to join. They did so prior to leaving school and after boot camp were trained and became electrical engineers. The first picture shows Justin, Laura and Dan with Jason in front. They had all been to the Marine Corp ball when the photo was taken. They look a little worse for wear but they did have a great night out by all accounts. I heard some of the stories. My two boys served 6 years each. Dan retired from the corps. He is actually living with us at the moment.
The 2nd picture is Justin who is still in school at that point and Jason is just home from Boot camp. The next picture is my nephew Greg Schaub who was also in the Marine Corps and serving at the same time, thanks to Dan. We had some good times when they were all in the Carolina's


My father served as did most British men because of the war. My grandfathers served in the Great War.

My mothers Dad was in the Royal Navy(WW1), his ship was torpedoed and was sunk. He spent a lot of time in the water before he was rescued. My Grandfather on Dad's side was serving in North Africa (WW1).

My father was a prisoner of war in Japan, captured at the fall of Singapore he was in POW camps for the remainder of the war.(WW2), captured at the same time were his brother in law (soon to be), and his cousin. All spent the war in Japan as POW. My Uncle, my dad's brother in law died at Dunkirk. He is buried in France. So..................Lest We Forget...........Thank you all for your service. All are gone now.


Would the young man who wrote this poignant poem have ever known how it would effect so many, so deeply when he wrote it?

War to me is never an answer, but sometimes there is no other choice.........for those who served we all thank you.

November.........

November......I will always think of the Edmund Fitzgerald, of Guy Fawkes night and cold crisp Autumn days with guilded leaves touched with frost.

Spiders webs frozen in the hazy morning sun, shining like a thousand diamonds and my breath puffing white in the air. The hedges have hairnets of gossamer silk spun in the night by who? A thousand fairies who come each evening to complete that task?

I love it when you inhale and your nose closes shut with the coldness of the air. Not healthy for animals who have to run, cold air in the lungs. Some used to cover the noses with a scarf and it would get wet and freeze in the air. We had to keep our horses in the barn on some days when it was that cold.

When I was a child growing up in England our windows would freeze. Jack Frost would paint incredible designs on each pane of glass and a small pile would accumulate along the seals on the window ledges. Why that is a treasured memory I don't really know but most of us who grew up that way remember it. Wearing your hat and gloves in bed, socks on and a hot water bottle still did not keep us warm.

The robin redbreast would show up among the frosty branches like a little red berry

The fruit left on the trees would glow like Christmas ornaments.............frosty mornings, I just love them.


A frosty morning is also best spent in front of a big blazing fire toasting crumpets for breakfast before venturing out into the cold.

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