Sunday, October 10, 2004

Results Of Poll So Far

Firstly, thanks to everyone for the comments they have posted. They make very interesting reading and I do appreciate the views.

On the whole, it would, seem, you are in favour of message boards, at least the ones to do with interests or hobbies. It is heartwarming to know that some of you have made friends that way.

I guess, in the end, it comes down to personal choice as do most things in life.

However, I wish there was some way of vetting offensive material before it is posted.  The hosts do a wonderful job but they are only human.  They cannot deal with everything instantly - there are too many postings for that.  The fact that I was able to read such material proves that some slip through the net. Yes, they do get deleted afterwards but, by then, many people have been offended or deeply hurt, many have read anti-racial remarks and incitement to violence. There are thousands of youngsters using the internet, some of them very young.  This is not the sort of thing they should be exposed to. Yes, there are parental controls but not every parent bothers about them. This is the real world, all parents are not perfect.

Many of you remarked that you were sorry I was upset.  Believe me, friends, I was not upset.  I am big enough and old enough to know what life is all about.  I have not attained the age I have without learning about people.  No, I was angry, angry that people could write this sort of filth especially under those circumstances. I was angry for the Muslims who were posting messages of condolence having to see things like that, read about what people were saying should be done to all Muslims. I was angry for all the decent posters who would have seen this garbage as well.  That is why I asked for your views.

Thanks to all who have commented.

 

 

Saturday, October 9, 2004

Message Boards Poll

A different type of entry from me today.  I just wanted to ask you all, what are your views on message boards. Are they a good thing or a bad thing?

I rarely visit message boards myself, only now and again in odd moments but I was reading the news about the death of Ken Bigley yesterday evening and message boards caught my eye so I went and paid a visit.

To be honest I was completely appalled. Some of the vile things that were being said about Mr. Bigley sickened me to my stomach.  I, in fact, reported several to AOL myself.  There was also a good deal of incitement to racial hatred on them.  I picked through to see if I could find one or two informed comments and thankfully I did along with genuine condolences messages. There were also comments from people who had watched the "beheading" videos and one went into such graphic detail, I stopped reading it.  It beggars belief, to me, why anyone would want to witness the death of another human being..........then to sit and relate gory details to others.

I thank God that we live in a democracy and we have the right of free speech.  However, there must be limits. The hosts do a great job on the whole in cleaning up the boards and we all have the right to report things which are offensive. Thankfully, most of the truly offensive postings are now unobtainable. However, there has been trouble even on the Journal boards quite recently.

So, now I am wondering. Are message boards good or bad? Frankly, I do not think they would be a great loss but then maybe my judgement is being coloured by what I read last night.

How can there ever be peace in the world when people cannot even treat each other with respect and decency on message boards.

I would appreciate your views. For or against - please post your comment.

My thoughts today are with the Bigley family, especially Ken's elderly mother. They have to live with this for the rest of their lives along with the families of others executed in this dreadful manner.

Friday, October 8, 2004

A Strange Visit

I was lying in bed.  I was in hospital. It had all happened so suddenly. X-rays on the Thursday, called back to the hospital on the Friday for many more. Being told to wait whilst the Consultant was called and then him telling me I was lucky to be alive. Could this be happening to me?  Yes, sadly it was. I had been telling my doctors something was wrong. They had been treating me for "nerves" for a few years. I had collapsed at work and my boss had taken me straight to my doctors' surgery. As it happened there was a new lady doctor who was there on a temporary basis.  She actually listened to me and she was the first one to suggest an X-ray. My regular doctors had never thought of that!

So on the Friday the Consultant gave me the bad news. The following Monday I was admitted to hospital. They put me in a little side room on my own. My parents were with me as I was unpacking my things.  The Consultant arrived with his Houseman. They wanted to talk to me. They had been studying my X-rays and discussing me. Their first idea of using plastic bone in my cervical spine, would not work they had decided.  They had come to tell me I would have two operations, one to remove bone from my hip and the second to insert that bone into my neck in the hope that it would grow naturally and fuse with the other bones. I had been walking around with a broken neck.  I was told that there were risks, that I could wake up paralysed or with some impaired movement. There was a slim chance I might not wake up at all. Afterwards, all being well, I would have to wear a brace for four months and, when it was removed, I would have to have intensive physiotherapy. I was numb with shock. My parents were numb with shock.

I went to the window and stared out at the hospital grounds and the car park.  A feeling came over me that this was the end. I was not going to make it.  I told my parents there were some letters I wanted to write and asked them to go and get themselves a cup of tea. I wrote to several friends saying my farewells. I made a list of how I wanted my belongings to be disposed of.  When my parents came back I handed them the letters and the list, I hugged them both and told them I loved them. They were distraught at my behaviour. They were in tears. I was in tears  They agreed to abide by my wishes.

Eventually they had to leave. I watched them depart from my window. I looked at the late sun, drinking in the glow, the warmth and thinking how sad I would never be able to enjoy it again. Night fell.  I had my nightcap - what I wanted most, a last cup of tea.  The nurse came and asked me if I wanted a sleeping pill in order to get through the night.  I told her no, this was my last night on earth and although I could do little but lay and watch the sky, that is what I wanted to do.  She argued with me. I was adamant. I told her my reasons.  She hurried away.

Dark.  The other patients were sleeping. I lay watching the stars out of my window, really appreciating just how beautiful they are. All was silent.  My door was open. The corridor lights had been dimmed for the sake of the patients. There was only just enough illumination for the night staff to go about their business. How long before morning? At that moment I had never felt more alive and never more awake. With the light of the moon and the stars and, peering very hard, I was just about able to make out the time on the travel clock I had brought in.  Two minutes to one. I lay back on the pillow once more turning my head to the stars.

Suddenly it was as if all the lights in the hospital had been put on, such a brightness and it annoyed me.  I could no longer see from the window properly. I thought of the other patients being awoken. I decided it must be a medical emergency and they had been forced to turn the lights full on.  I turned to the door. I could not see the corridor at all, only this ultra-bright light.

Out of the light there suddenly appeared a Nun.  She wore the same habit as in the picture above except that it was all white. No black.  She also wore a heavy gold cruxifix.  She walked to the end of my bed and stood there.  She smiled. I was flummoxed. I am not Catholic. Why was she here and more importantly, why was she here at this late hour? There must be a mistake. She had come to the wrong room.  Thoughts of Last Rites ran through my mind but then I decided only a priest could undertake those.

The light had dimmed once again in the corridor and all had returned to normal. The brightness had left the corridor but seemed to surround her but to a lesser degree.  She stood at the end of the bed, both hands on the iron rail of the bed end.  She smiled. I spoke.  "I am sorry, Sister, but I think you have the wrong room, I am not Catholic".  She smiled but did not move. "Sister, I did not send for you, I think there has been a mistake."  She still smiled.  I studied her for a few seconds whilst trying to think what to say next.  She was not a young woman, somewhere about her fifties I would say. She was on the plump side, whilst not fat. She had the most beautiful eyes, I still cannot describe them. They were just beautiful. She smiled. I could not help it - I smiled back.

As soon as I smiled she turned and walked across the rest of the small room - and out through the window!! How could she do that? I could feel the hair on my neck stand on end. How could she walk through solid glass and metal frame.  Not only that, I was on the second floor, a good twenty feet above the ground. I jumped out of bed and raced to the window. Had she fallen? No, nothing was below. Plain concrete. I scanned all around.  No Nun, in fact nobody at all. Just the dim glow of lights from other wards, shadows from scattered trees and the moonlight and starlight.

The strange thing was, I was not scared. In fact, just the opposite. I suddenly felt so calm, so peaceful and with a certainty that I was going to come through, that everything was going to be alright.  I climbed back into bed, lay facing the stars and fell into a deep sleep.

The following morning the nurses found me bright and chatty. Apprehensive about the surgery - yes, who would not be? A little afraid of it, yes, but nothing to how I had been the day before. They were amazed because it had been reported what I had said the night before and why I had refused sleeping tablets. They had expected to find me in a bad state.

The procedure went well . Several hours in the theatre and the skill and dedication of my surgeon had seen to that. Now it was only a matter of time.  I had to lie flat on my back for the next seven days so eating was difficult. I was in terrible pain from the operation. Nevertheless ten days later I was allowed home provided I stayed in bed with the doctor and the nurse making daily visits. I was not to remove my brace and was to be very careful in all I did. My mother had picked me up in a taxi.  I remember it so well because it was pouring with rain. My mother felt sorry it was raining for my homecoming. I told her I would never mind rain again because I was here and alive to see it.

After ten days in bed at home I was allowed to get up and sit in an armchair. They were gradually reducing my pain medication which, until then, had left me very groggy and half asleep all the time. In fact I slept most of the time. So it was not until about two weeks after my return home that I was able to fully talk to my mother. She sat in her armchair and I in mine.  I had not forgotten my strange visitor. I decided to tell my mother.

Something strange happened to me the night before my operation I started to relate. She interrupted me.  She asked me if I had seen something.  I replied that I had. She did not ask what.  She asked had it been around one a.m.  I said yes, it would have been exactly round one a.m. Then we both blurted out we had seen a nun.  Yes, my mother had seen one as well, at exactly the same time as me.  She had been unable to go to bed, so distressed at the letters I had written and how I had told both my parents I would not see them again. She decided to sit up all night as she knew sleep would elude her. She had the radio on softly, sitting in the light of just one small lamp and she was praying very hard.  She noticed a bright light in the hall and then in the doorway of the room stood a nun, just smiling.  Mum said she then knew herself that I would be alright and she was able to go to bed and sleep, knowing I was safe. She came to my chair and hugged me so hard. Neither of us could explain it.

A few months later my brace came off, I was x-rayed again. The bone had "taken". I had even been well enough, whilst still wearing the brace, to go on holiday which is where I got engaged to my beloved.  I even managed to swim with the neck brace on. When it was removed and all tests done, the Consultant said he would now arrange for a course of intensive therapy to help me regain the movement in my neck. "What, you mean like this" I asked, turning my head completely right, then completely left, letting my head fall onto my chest and tilting it backwards.  He was amazed. He asked if I had taken the brace off against his orders and been doing my own exercises. I told him definitely no.  He was intrigued by it because this had not occured in a patient before.  Fearing he would laugh, I told him about my strange visitor.  He did not laugh.  He said he had been told many strange things during his career and no longer closed his mind to anything.  Well, he said, "I think your nun must have brought you a little miracle,"  He was a lovely man and a great surgeon who has since passed away.

It happened.  It happened in 1970.  I have never forgotten it.  It is as clear in my mind now as it was then.  I cannot explain it. I am not Catholic although my great-grandmother was. I was not asleep, I was alert and wide-awake. I had taken no medication.

Some of you reading this might be sceptical.  I can only say that I have written the truth. Where she came from I do not know, who sent her - I do not know. I only know she gave me calmness of spirit, she gave me strength and she gave me healing. I thank the Lord she came to me that night. I thank the Lord that my mother was visited that night.

I still look at the stars. I think they are now more beautiful than ever.

Thursday, October 7, 2004

Local Pics

This is the Church were our daughter was christened and where the funerals of both my parents took place. It is set on a hill overlooking a river. It was mentioned in the Domesday Book although all traces of the original building have disappeared. This current building was erected in 1220. It has a font of Purbeck markble which dates from 1160.  The tower was built in 1350 and is very unusual because it has two stages, the first square and the second octagonal. In the small window of the Lady Chapel there are six panes of glass. These are in the form of a cross and bear the words "Deus ictus" - God stricken.  How the parish came to be God stricken is not known.  It is thought that this window dates from the time of the great plague. Set into the ground immediately outside the Elizabethan brick porch is a stone in the shape of a coffin which bears the initials W.W. and is dated 1791. This is the grave of William Waight who left instructions that he was to be buried right outside the church door. He stated that "having been trampled on in life, he wished to receive the same treatment after death!"

William Tyms, deacon and curate of the Church was burnt at the stake at Smithfield, London in April of 1556 for heresy. He preached against the Catholic doctrine of Queen Mary Tudor.  A very popular man, he was hidden in the district by local villagers although he did manage to give two sermons on a nearby hill. However, he was eventually betrayed.  Imprisoned and tortured, Tyms continued to write encouraging letters to his congregation in his own blood. A sad tale indeed.

This and the following two pictures are the original village school.  On the right hand side of the roof you can just about see the bell hanging that summoned the children to lessons. You can see how small it is so the number of pupils must have been few. As this was a farming community, many of the children would not have taken lessons during spring planting and harvest time as they would have been working the land along with their families. It is now a private residence and one of the few remaining properties in the area to boast a thatched roof.

The actual date when the old school house was built is not known to me.

This is our second local pub.  It has a large garden at the rear where you can take a drink or food set in woodland as the garden of the pub is actually in the woods.  A very popular haunt not only for locals but many passers-by.

And lastly a close-up of the charming sign that hangs outside.

The area around here was strongly associated with witchcraft and a nearby village was known as the "witch capital" of south-east Essex. Several local people were tried as witches. It is not know what became of them. Two of the known witches who have passed down through history are Nelly Button and Mother Fawkes. Nelly was supposed to put curses on people, put them into fits or send loud noises to keep awake those who had offended her in some way.  It is said that she met her end when the local blacksmith, knowing that witches could not cross iron, hid iron items all around her cottage.  Some say that as she could not cross, she starved to death, others that she simply disappeared. Mother Fawkes was more into frightening people by threatening to turn their milk tainted or to stop their pigs feeding and chickens laying unless local people gave her food. So, more of an extortionist than a witch.

Legend has it that this area is haunted by a huge black dog with fiery eyes which pads around the village in the dead of night.  To see it means bad luck for a whole year, although apparently, there are no reports of it having been seen in a long time.  There is also supposed to be a ghostly coach and horses passing by the church (top picture) at midnight on Christmas Eve.  No-one can give an explanation as to why.Old superstitions die hard and for many years people visited our woods with their crippled children in order to pass them through a tree trunk which had a large split in it. They believed that the deformed tree would take on the disabilities of their children and leave them strong and straight. The following is a local recipe to cure the bite of a mad dog:

One ounce of best Dragons blood (a herb),Spanish Brown (a herb) an ounce and a half  Five ounces of box leaves dried, pounded and passed through a fine sieve. Mix together and take in the following fashion. Man or woman take in the morning on rising, one large table spoon in a little gruel, white wine, whey or warm milk. To children - in proportion. No food to be consumed for three hours after taking.

Pictures courtesy of my beloved.

Wednesday, October 6, 2004

Funny Pictures

These speak for themselves!!!!

 

 

Samurai Joke

Long long ago and far far away there was in the land of the Samurai, a
powerful emperor who needed a new Chief Samurai, so he sent a declaration
throughout the land that he was searching for the best one. A year passed,
and only three people showed up for the trials: a Japanese Samurai, a
Chinese Samurai, and a Jewish Samurai.

The emperor asked the Japanese Samurai to demonstrate why he should be the
chief Samurai. The Japanese Samurai opened a match box, and out flew a
bumblebee. Whoosh! went his razor sharp sword, and the bumblebee dropped
dead on the ground in two pieces. The emperor exclaimed: "This is
impressive."

The emperor then issued the same challenge to the Chinese Samurai; for him
to demonstrate why he should be chosen. The Chinese Samurai also opened a
match box, and out buzzed a fly. Whoosh, Whoosh! Went his great flashing
sword, and the fly dropped dead on the ground - in four small pieces. The
emperor exclaimed in awe: "That is really VERY impressive."

Now the emperor turned to the Jewish Samurai, and asked him also to step
forward and demonstrate why he should be the head Samurai. The Jewish
Samurai also opened a match box, and out flew a small gnat. His lightning
quick sword went Whooooosh! Whooooosh! Whoooosh! But the tiny gnat was still
alive and flying around.

The emperor, obviously very disappointed in this display, said: "I see you
are really not up to the task, for the gnat is not dead."

The Jewish Samurai merely smiled and said: "Circumcision is not meant to
kill."


I have been unable to find out who painted this picture of yellow roses but a dear friend told me yesterday that yellow roses represent friendship. So, Sherry, I send these to you in token of our friendship and to thank you for the wonderful entry you did about me yesterday on your journal. I was deeply touched. You are a very special lady.

I also send it to all my journal friends whose journals make me laugh, cry, think, enjoy.  Yellow roses fit the bill. Friendship is golden and as precious, no -  more precious than gold itself. Treasure it.



Tuesday, October 5, 2004

Horrors

Nightmares.  Do you ever have nightmares so real that they scare you, really scare you?  The type that you cannot shake off, the type that you keep re-living even after you wake? 

I am not prone to nightmares although I do have quite vivid dreams.  However, Sunday night I seemed to have them all night long and last night........

I had got up to go to the loo which I usually have to do sometime in the night due to my Diabetes, then I got back into bed and fell back to sleep.  I had a nightmare so bad that I cannot even bring myself to tell you what it was about. I do not want to put it on cyber paper and give it even more life. Let me just say that it was about me and my health and that Mike featured in it together with medical people. It was not like a dream or nightmare at all, it was as if it was real, like it was actually happening, unfolding frame by frame in front of my eyes.  I can find no reason for it.  It was not triggered by anything I had heard or read, nothing I had seen on t.v. nothing that had been discussed. It just happened and this is the second night running.

So today, I am very worried and very upset. There are many people who say dreams are prophetic and show things that will happen.  I have had dreams in the past myself that were prophetic so this worries me even more.  On the other hand, my Mother always used to say "reverse your dreams". She believed that dreams were only worries or troubles that we had in day to day life manifesting themselves and our brains trying to sort things out.  I have usually tried to follow her advice.

However, I woke shaking and sweating and literally sobbing, the tears streaming down my face. Much worse I woke up frightened. No, not frightened - scared, really scared.

Now I do not know which side of the fence to come down on because I just cannot shake this dream off. I keep thinking about it, it keeps coming back to haunt me even though the day is bright.

Do I just hope it will fade as the day passes, do I just put it down to some passing trick of the mind or do I take it seriously? Do I accept, as my Mother did that dreams actually mean nothing and are just the workings of a tired or overworked brain or do I take it as prophetic because if it is prophetic........then I am in big trouble! Trouble of the worst kind. So, if you have had this sort of experience, was the dream right or wrong?

.

P.S. When I re-arranged my journal and put sites and journals in their proper places, I must have done something wrong because I have "lost" two journals I can no longer access and I have failed to find them under search.  Can anybody help with links please for:-

My Day And Thoughts
and
In The Mirrors Of My Mind.