tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48908665506994825612024-02-07T15:47:50.625-04:00The Blog of BeeThe Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.comBlogger452125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-31580467963176221732022-11-26T16:34:00.001-04:002022-11-26T16:34:41.005-04:00It's Been a Long, Long Time<iframe class="BLOG_video_class" allowfullscreen="" youtube-src-id="oKQ55M61ssk" width="320" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oKQ55M61ssk"></iframe>
Yes, it's been a long, long time. I started blogging many years ago. It was virtually a daily ritual which I made time for regardless of what was happening in my life. But times change. A great deal of water under the bridge since those days. Time doesn't seem to allow these days, for the pleasure of blogging, interacting with followers and friends and I miss that. It's not that I have a mad social life. Most of my time is taken up with work as at pushing seventy six, I am working full time in a position whereby a great deal of thought and dedicaion is needed. I am not commplaining as I do love my job. One of the challenges is that working from home most of the time, one tends to work all hours leaving little time for other things that take time and dedication.
My husband's death in 2016 and Covid 19 were the 'killers' that changed my life. At first I loved working from home but in 2020, completely out of the blue, I had a severe meltdown. Feelings of gloom, panic attacks, dark thoughts and tears. Eventaully I was diagnosed, as I suspected with depression and severe anxiety. Everything was an effort, including the job I loved but I managed somehow to plod on. What a disaster! Happily two years on, I have it under control most of the time. Not always, but most of the time. Prescribed medication certainly helps.
So I have decided today that when my backlog of work has been completed, I will make time for blogging and interacting more with friends on social media the latter having become a victim of my state of mind.
Here's to attempting to go back to something near what it was, and happier days. Take care out there!
The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-49096922819443026212021-11-02T11:30:00.000-04:002021-11-02T22:25:43.821-04:00All Souls and a Birthday 2021<p> Today, the 2nd November is All Souls' Day. It's also my husband's birthday and he has been part of that group for 12 days short of five years. For years I wrote about All Souls followed by a normally humorous tagline which read that it was also my husband's birthday adding what might or might not be for dinner! </p>All Souls' is a Catholic Day of Remembrance for friends and loved ones who have passed away. On this day, during Requiem Masses, the Office of the Dead is recited.<div><br /></div><div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OOOd9vp9MSE/X6AlytXvVKI/AAAAAAABE_M/jNhRGPaEkgQcZiNX2d8vsoySEoyIioW-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s358/14464791204677_700.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="321" data-original-width="358" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OOOd9vp9MSE/X6AlytXvVKI/AAAAAAABE_M/jNhRGPaEkgQcZiNX2d8vsoySEoyIioW-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/14464791204677_700.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The theological basis for the Feast is the belief that those souls which have left the body not perfectly cleansed or have not fully atoned for past sins, cannot yet see God. According to some tradition, those left on earth can apparently help these souls on their journey from Purgatory by praying for them, offering Masses, and giving alms.<br /><br />Today and this evening many families will go to their family plots and graves, gather around, and even take picnic baskets to celebrate those who have gone before them. Tonight every grave will be lit up by candles so that the cemetery/graveyard will just for one night of the year, be bathed in candlelight. I would like to think that visitors would also light a candle on graves of the forgotten ones. In many instances, those graves are not forgotten. It's just that for various reasons not everyone can visit. My father lies over 4,000 miles away and there's no way I could fly to be at his side tonight. But I can and will light candles for both he and Mummy, and Richard.<br /><br />I like the customs and traditions of some European countries where candles are burning continuously (24/7) as one did on my Austrian grandmother's grave. Sadly there is no one left there to look after it but I do know that the graveyard keepers when they know there is no family left, do keep the candles lit. In some of those countries, there is a photograph of the deceased together with an eternal flame.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The origins of this day have been attributed to various religious orders. Some say the Cluny Order (the nuns still teach here in Trinidad), others the Benedictine monks who are also very much here, living in the monastery on Mount St Benedict, a major landmark in this country.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvEZ_ySsoU0HpCF_o7WAhyiglM__R8i8g26o3D24Tz0IrUfI2OkTFHcB5-kjJcH3SZrrjdrRlFyR4_JLnWrsoW3mK-MznkqfWXiVziZ0RnV-hUMejW-bkydWAwmmHViBY5rhtdkdfOUpt/s1600/Mt.St-Benedict.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="398" data-original-width="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvEZ_ySsoU0HpCF_o7WAhyiglM__R8i8g26o3D24Tz0IrUfI2OkTFHcB5-kjJcH3SZrrjdrRlFyR4_JLnWrsoW3mK-MznkqfWXiVziZ0RnV-hUMejW-bkydWAwmmHViBY5rhtdkdfOUpt/s1600/Mt.St-Benedict.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: center;"> The Benedictine Monastery, Mt St Benedict, Trinidad </span><br /><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>Whoever it was, it is a wonderful custom which to this day, is celebrated, not only here but in many Catholic countries.<br /><br />May God bless all those souls that have gone before us and as I hold those in my family who have departed in my heart, I will raise a glass to them and an extra one to Richard who would have been eighty today, and give thanks for the memories. Happy Birthday Richard as you watch over me and the family from your place in heaven. x<br /><br /></div>The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-73740933538992588872021-06-20T17:19:00.000-04:002021-06-20T17:19:22.665-04:00Remembering a Wonderful Father.<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjura47xdETEjlZ-0Hwz9PL1g-y3Ck9Op8R2Rwr-l6FuZncpJHX4XiHycDRNuFTCuvGZkpHfdikshW9GaOndOqHkKoDIRQ9RNkaS9OLrPM6e6o6oQTXvNYsdy3AEbQkSAQP9Vmk6eLqvo4h/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="349" data-original-width="260" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjura47xdETEjlZ-0Hwz9PL1g-y3Ck9Op8R2Rwr-l6FuZncpJHX4XiHycDRNuFTCuvGZkpHfdikshW9GaOndOqHkKoDIRQ9RNkaS9OLrPM6e6o6oQTXvNYsdy3AEbQkSAQP9Vmk6eLqvo4h/w232-h276/image.png" width="232" /></a></div></div><br /><br /><p></p><table border="0" cellpadding="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="background-color: #c6a78d; color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px; margin-left: 3.75pt;"><tbody><tr><td style="padding: 0.75pt; width: 264.453px;" valign="top" width="30%"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Name<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div></td><td style="padding: 0.75pt; width: 530.938px;" valign="top" width="60%"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Gerrard, J J</span></b></span></div></td></tr><tr><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Rank:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div></td><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Major<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div></td></tr><tr><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Regiment:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div></td><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Oman Gendarmerie<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div></td></tr><tr><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Theatre of Combat or Operation:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div></td><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Foreign to British-Oman<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div></td></tr><tr><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;">Award:<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></i></div></td><td style="padding: 0.75pt;" valign="top"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: white;"><b>The Sultan's Distinguished Service Medal (Gallantry)</b><span style="font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><span style="background-color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="background-color: black; color: white;">SUPPLEMENT TO THE LONDON GAZETTE, ISra FEBRUARY 1968</span></b></div></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;">HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN has been graciously pleased to approve that the under-named be Mentioned in Despatches for Distinguished Services in South Arabia:</b><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><br /></b><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;">Captain (Quartermaster) John Joseph GERRARD, BEM (478467), Royal Corps of Signals.</b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><br /></b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.456px;">Mentioned in Despatches several times</b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><br /></b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;">I would have to write a book to tell you about my father but what I can say in a few words is that he was a colourful character, a disciplinarian, an achiever, never one to take 'no' for an answer, one not always easy to live up to, compassionate, respected by his peers and loved by his family. So many words to describe this military, highly decorated man of many talents. Hot tempered in youth, mellowed with age, adventurer, great conversationalist with a fantastic sense of humour.</b><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"></b><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;">My love of books and music was inherited from this multi-faceted man who had a permanent twinkle in his eye and a ferocious appetite for life. He packed a great deal into his 65 years on this earth and on Father's Day as every day, almost 34 years after his death I still miss him terribly. Gone too early because a medical condition was not detected during a compulsory, annual company medical.</b><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"></b><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;">I imagine him in heaven, book in hand listening to maybe Lehar, Shirley Bassey, Tchaikovsky, Tom Jones, The Sand Pipers or Verdi with my mother at his side and his forever faithful Golden Labrador at his feet.</b><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><br style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;" /><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;">I will raise a glass to you today Daddy and remember the laughter, the love, the reprimands (yes there were reprimands when my best was not good enough!) the encouragement, the debates, the heated discussions, and the time we did spend together as we got to know each other and came to understand one another over the 65 years of a wonderful if at times trying, father and daughter relationship.</b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><br /></b></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="111" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-E3ii6Na1oqA/YM-v8_liB4I/AAAAAAABL5I/jigTYy4HRCAvUyjz8d-O8LFLUIh-40QnACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="83" /><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-56wTDSZrk7E/YM-wI_-LfuI/AAAAAAABL5U/DnxVLhyE0iomw9BSUysNiHWYnvysv1FsgCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="190" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-56wTDSZrk7E/YM-wI_-LfuI/AAAAAAABL5U/DnxVLhyE0iomw9BSUysNiHWYnvysv1FsgCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="143" /></a></b></div><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-E3ii6Na1oqA/YM-v8_liB4I/AAAAAAABL5I/jigTYy4HRCAvUyjz8d-O8LFLUIh-40QnACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></b></div><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><br /><br /></b><p></p><p><b style="background-color: #c6a78d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15.456px;"><br /></b></p>The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-73792921712251341862020-11-05T19:57:00.000-04:002020-11-05T19:57:26.393-04:00A Seventy Fourth Wedding Anniversary<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fqX5c56pJ4E/X6SQHsUp_vI/AAAAAAABE_o/6fWff3Qdw3Y6QOpU9kkiTVNMv1b1QkYkwCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="369" data-original-width="242" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fqX5c56pJ4E/X6SQHsUp_vI/AAAAAAABE_o/6fWff3Qdw3Y6QOpU9kkiTVNMv1b1QkYkwCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="157" /></a></div><p></p><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">On the 5 November 1946, a 25-year British soldier and his 21-year Austrian fianc</span><span style="font-size: small;">e</span>é <span style="font-size: small;">were married in the Klagenfurt Cathedral in Klagenfurt am W</span>ӧrthersee which is the capital of the federal state of <span style="font-size: small;"> Carinthia in Austria.</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></div><p></p><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b>The young soldier had made his way up to Austria </b><b>with his battalion, through Italy from Africa where he had served with Montgomery at El Alamein.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V_kEdb4_aOg/X6SQ2Fsyb-I/AAAAAAABE_w/Huyfng2w6BUJU2eTHp_1A_XqBezu8fo0ACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="152" data-original-width="200" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-V_kEdb4_aOg/X6SQ2Fsyb-I/AAAAAAABE_w/Huyfng2w6BUJU2eTHp_1A_XqBezu8fo0ACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="316" /></a></div><br /></b><div><b>This story however is not about WWII but about what happened when this young man, at the time engaged to a 'good Catholic Irish girl' back home met and fell in love with a 'good Catholic Austrian girl' when he was based in Klagenfurt. I suppose one can picture the scene - post-war, now allied occupied Austria. Soldiers relieved that the battle was not only over but won. Young women once again wearing their dancing shoes although some like the 21-year-old had spent much of the war training in dentistry, playing on the ski slopes, refusing to join the Hitler youth movement and being questioned by Nazi interrogators because of that and because her best friend's boyfriend, a ski instructor was suspected of being a spy.</b></div><div><br /></div><div><b>So it was in post-war Austria in 1945. The soldier and the would-be dentist met at a dance. She went with someone named Bill, left with someone named John and from that time they were inseparable. The proposal came very quickly and one has to wonder whether the young woman who came from a completely different culture knew or understood what she was letting herself in for when the words "you have to understand I will always be a soldier first" came on the heels of "will you marry me?" ! She learned, learned very fast and to her credit never wavered, understood she was an army wife, was as much of the army as he was and in later years with every medal that was awarded, was always told that she was the one who earned it.</b></div><div><br /></div><div><b><span style="font-size: small;">But theirs was not </span><span style="font-size: small;">an easy path to marriage. Breaking off the engagement with the 'girl at home' was the least of their worries. Both families were horrified. The English/Irish side because the already decorated, favourite son of the soil was marrying the 'enemy' and the Austrian side because the much loved youngest daughter was marrying one of those responsible for killing her father and her youngest brother. To be fair, the girl's mother was not phased but her late husband's family cut her and her remaining children off. They remained estranged for almost forty years.</span></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>To add to family complications, the army wasn't too happy either! Post-war one couldn't just go off and marry a foreigner who had been the enemy. Applications had to be made, background checks done (like there hadn't been enough of those by Nazi intelligence!), red tape gone through and permission granted.</b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: small;"></span></b></div><div><br /><b>The couple persevered, jumped all the hurdles, dodged the obstacles, and eventually as I said at the beginning, married on the 5 November 1946. Their daughter was baptized the following year in the same Cathedral. </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><br /></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ByF6M0cDJgc/X6SRGFZq90I/AAAAAAABE_4/LHLblcVzlUgWkpe3iyiZPpb00TGKNPSOACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="323" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ByF6M0cDJgc/X6SRGFZq90I/AAAAAAABE_4/LHLblcVzlUgWkpe3iyiZPpb00TGKNPSOACLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="194" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><br /></b></div><br /></b><div><b>Had my parents lived today they would be celebrating their 74th Wedding Anniversary. They had an incredible journey together until Daddy died after an extremely short illness in 1986. He fell ill whilst they were having lunch in celebration of their 40th Wedding Anniversary and five weeks later he went home. Mummy followed him 17 years later.</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: small;">During their marriage they experienced much. Who would have thought that a young English/Irish teen who added a year onto his age to be able to join the army and a carefree young Austrian girl who spent her leisure time on the ski slopes, the ice rink, and in summer swimming in the beautiful waters of the </span><span style="font-size: small;">W</span>ӧrthersee, <span style="font-size: small;">would end up together? Living in far off lands that some could only dream of, living and surviving in danger spots such as Singapore and Aden, being in the Middle East before the oil, having their ups and downs like any other couple, dining with Royalty and eventually retiring to Cyprus where their time together was spent renovating and transforming the Greek Orthodox priest's old house (he lived upstairs and the donkey downstairs) into a beautiful home in which sadly, when finished, they did not have enough time together.</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: small;"></span></b></div><div><br /></div><div><b>So today I raise my glass to my parents - a toast to their memory and to their story only a little of which I have shared. I am sure they are together, smiling from heaven, glasses in hands as they clink my glass, and Daddy with a twinkle in his eye looks at me and says "Cheers darling! Happy days!'. </b></div></div>The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-32466191409118333192020-04-26T20:12:00.000-04:002020-04-26T20:17:55.157-04:00Our House - A Light Bulb Moment!<br />
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<span style="color: #1c1e21;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Our House - Light Bulb Moment!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Apart from the hose detaching itself from the vacuum cleaner this morning, it was an uneventful weekend. That was, until about an hour ago when I tried to turn on the standard lamp and nothing happened. Dammit! After several attempts of fiddling with the switch, turned the lamp on its side (of course it's taller than I am!) unscrewed the bulb thinking 'well that didn't last very long!) put it to my ear and shook it. The usual sound that tells yo</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1c1e21;">u that it's dead, didn't happen. 'Oh lawd' she thought 'it's the wire running up/down the inside of the casing. <br /><br />Goes to find a bulb and only has 75 watts and this contraption takes a 60 watt. Never mind, that will do for this evening! Inserts bulb into lamp socket, upends lamp and turns the switch. Nada!! Huh! And I thought this was a good buy! Ponders - now what? Stares at floor and suddenly a real light bulb moment! Plug at the end of the cord is not plugged into the wall socket! Why? Because the blue tooth speaker is being charged in the socket where the lamp plug would normally be!! Shakes head and thinks 'you've lost all of your brain cells'!! 60 watt bulb restored and back in business!</span></span><br /> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1c1e21;">PS: mentioning the vacuum cleaner reminded me of a conversation many years ago with my husband:</span><br style="color: #1c1e21;" /><span style="color: #1c1e21;">Me: I have to hoover.</span><br style="color: #1c1e21;" /><span style="color: #1c1e21;">Husband: No, you have to vacuum. Hoover is a brand name.</span><br style="color: #1c1e21;" /><span style="color: #1c1e21;">Me sarcastically: So tell me, why do you call tissues Kleenex?</span><br style="color: #1c1e21;" /><span style="color: #1c1e21;">Boom!!</span></span>The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-39383245034595438632020-04-23T23:10:00.003-04:002020-04-23T23:10:58.238-04:00Our House - My Day Was Made!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><br />I was more than amused!<br /><br />Yesterday morning much against my will, I had to break my lockdown of weeks (since 19 March!) and go to the bank. I was somewhat apprehensive. So donning my compulsory mask, I went before it opened, to Republic, West Mall. For anyone who knows the Mall, I found myself at the end of a line that went back further than Wonderful World!! A lady came by saying before she stor<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">med off, how ridiculous this was as the first hour (10 am till 11) is reserved for senior citizens. My son came towards me and said he would bring me up to date. He then called me saying that a lady from the bank was walking down the line, to stay put and she would eventually get to me. I saw her in the distance and she was pulling people out of the line obviously directing them elsewhere. So I waited as she neared me but hey ho, she got to me and walked straight on!<br />Me: Excuse me, are you looking for senior citizens?<br />Her walking back to me: Yes.<br />Me: Well, I'm a senior ........<br />Her: Really?<br />Me: Yes.<br />Her: Oh! Really?<br />Me: Yes!<br />Told me where to go.....<br />I was in and out of the bank in less than seven minutes.<br />Going back to car, I told my son what had happened.<br />Him: Not surprised. I thought that would happen!<br /><br />Made my day!!<span> </span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/ta8/1.5/16/1f601.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">😁</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/ta8/1.5/16/1f601.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">😁</span></span></span></div>
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The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-88779682398848823152020-04-19T20:24:00.006-04:002020-04-19T20:28:15.808-04:00Our House - Disaster in the Kitchen!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I hope what just happened to me isn't going to be the setting for the coming week!! I just opened the oven door to add the marinated chicken breast to the baking potato, when one side of the handle dropped down and as I was looking for the screw to put it back together, the same happened to the other side of the handle. The entire handle landed on the floor and the door flew open! Still can't find the screws to put it back together. The door is now propped up with a kitchen stool and so it's going to now be pan-seared chicken with sauteed parsley potatoes!! That is when the heat from the oven dies down. Pours glass of wine! Geez! </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">You gotta laugh! <span class="_5mfr" style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t52/1/16/1f923.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;"><br />🤣</span></span><span class="_5mfr" style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; margin: 0px 1px;"><span class="_6qdm" style="background-image: url("https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/td4/1/16/1f606.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: contain; color: transparent; display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; height: 16px; text-shadow: none; vertical-align: text-bottom; width: 16px;">😆</span></span><br /></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">I did say to dear friend Jacqui Binford-Bell last week that the 'Our House' series was not dead! Not by a long way!!</span>The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-40104867463743902462020-04-08T14:36:00.003-04:002020-04-08T14:36:52.463-04:00Our House! In the Time of Isolation!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">OUR HOUSE!<br /><br />I find myself in what can only be described as interesting times!! At 2am this morning I rediscovered the engineer in me when my standing fan refused to turn on. I could hear the motor but the blades were at a standstill. Studied it and realized one blade was touching the casing. Ahha! Applied flat head screwdriver to casing and removed the front. Straightened blade, turned back on and<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><span> </span>presto, blades whizzing. Reassembled fan. Turned on and nothing. So...... took the whole thing apart and lo and behold, it worked. Problem was I couldn't get the back of the case back on. Threw casings into the shower - now seemed like a good time as any! Spent the night with a whizzing fan sans casing. This morning kept reminding myself to avoid walking near to it. Hah - now sporting a slight cut to hand and a strange shape on my hip!<br /><br />My plumbing abilities have obviously disappeared into the distant past. I was once known for fixing my waste disposal unit without help from my husband who at the time was in some far off land - Africa! This morning I tried to deal with the kitchen tap which is spouting water! Yes I know it needs a washer but my attempts failed there!<br /><br />So after the tap episode, decided to go back to the time of children's parties and made brown bread ( Kate Wong !) egg mayonnaise sandwiches for lunch. Well, they didn't taste the same! Maybe that was because I wasn't making them for hoards of children!<br /><br />As I was doing that, I thought I'd fill the pepper grinder! Well! Just in time, I realized cloves were about to go into it!<br /><br />I'll be glad when I can finally go back to my office!!</span></span></div>
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The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-80222016133722581602019-04-05T15:33:00.001-04:002019-04-05T15:33:21.070-04:00Time to Come BackIs it really over a year since I last wrote a blog? It would seem so. Much has happened and the inclination to put pen to paper (figuratively speaking!!) just hasn't burned up inside me.<br />
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If I am to return to some sense of normality, blogging had better become, with the little spare time I do have, something I should come back to! Writing was so much part of my life but these days my life seems to centre around work and the only reading I seem to do is of documents and spreadsheets!! I have always been busy but I seemed to find the time to write.<br />
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Time to come back!!<br />
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-11658424963429799802017-12-10T14:02:00.001-04:002017-12-10T14:06:13.806-04:00Depression's a BitchThis is supposed to be a happy time.<br />
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This is supposed to be a time of hope, joy, waiting, expectation and love.<br />
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It's supposed to be but for me, it's not. I can hardly see through the tears as I write. Regardless of the love of my children, some close and dear friends, I am engulfed by absolute sadness, loneliness, and utter desperation.<br />
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I am over sensitive to personal remarks made that I am supposed to laugh at. I don't know how I am managing it, but I am very close to telling people to fuck off.<br />
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I will go to work tomorrow, put on the face, wear the pearls and tell anyone who asks that I am 'absolutely fine'.<br />
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Reality is that I know I have once again, sunk into a depression and that weaning myself off anti-depressants over the last few months really was not a good idea.<br />
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I am tired but I will, as I promised my daughter yesterday, go to the doctor this coming week because I really am beyond putting a brave face on it. and not finding joy in anything around me.<br />
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I try to be positive but wonder if it's all worth it.<br />
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I wrote the following in 2009.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>The Jester</b></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The quiz I took</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Said<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In Medieval times<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was a jester<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A natural entertainer<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One who can<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Raise a laugh from the toughest<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strong></strong></span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The quiz I took<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Said<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In Medieval times<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was a jester<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A maker of friends<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One who knows<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The popular rich and powerful<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strong></strong></span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The quiz I took<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Said<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In Medieval times<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I was a jester<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A political animal<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One who can play<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The diplomatic game<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strong></strong></span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The quiz I took<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Said<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In modern times<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am an actor<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Or world leader<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One who is good<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At getting along<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strong></strong></span></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The quiz I took<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Did not say<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In modern times<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The actor in me<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Like the jester of old<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Masks the tears<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wears the smile<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And hides the pain</span><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms";"><o:p></o:p></span></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></strong></span>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms"; font-size: xx-small;">� BML J</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms"; font-size: xx-small;">Trinidad, WI </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></strong></span>
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-11149244798328100492017-11-11T16:20:00.000-04:002017-11-11T16:20:34.393-04:00A Saturday Hot Mess"Grief is the price we pay for love". (Queen Elizabeth 11)<br />
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As the 14 November which is the first anniversary of my husband's death draws nearer, it didn't help this morning when the following favourite of ours, was played on BBC Radio2. We would dance all night.<br />
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Meet a Saturday total hot mess.<br />
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When does the ache ease and the pain go away?<br />
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-41450233018292691142017-11-02T15:37:00.000-04:002017-11-02T15:37:02.931-04:00A Birthday in Heaven and All Souls<br />
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Today, the 2nd November is All Souls' Day and my husband's birthday. The problem is that my husband is now part of the group, All Souls. For years I wrote about All Souls followed by a normally humorous tagline which read that it was also my husband's birthday adding what might or might not be for dinner! <br />
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This time last year, my husband was very ill, lying in a hospital bed in Port of Spain General Hospital where he was being taken care of by the most amazing team of doctors and nurses. Even though so ill, he insisted that the family take cake and ice cream for the medical staff so they could celebrate his day even though he could not. It seems like yesterday that hardly able to speak, he called me at 6am that morning to ensure I had everything set up including plates, spoons, forks and napkins. He called our daughter too just to double check. By 9.00am my daughter and I were at his bedside having handed over the goodies to the nursing staff. Visiting hours were strict but we were allowed to stay on the ward with him from the time we arrived until whenever we chose to leave. I have always made an occasion of special days in the lives of each family member but I did not for one moment think that on that day I would have been at my husband's bedside in a hospital. I wrote at the time that he was in good hands and we were staying positive, strong, united, had faith and a determination that he would survive the terrible ordeal and heal. It was not to be. He left us twelve days later. The build-up to today has been fraught and as anticipated, now it's here, is turning out to be difficult. The next twelve days are going to be hard. Not that the last twelve months haven't been but I do know enough to know that the first birthday, the first anniversary are hard. Even in my deep sadness, I know that I will get through this and I am blessed to have had such a man in my life.<br />
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I cannot let this day go with mentioning that All Souls' is a Catholic Day of Remembrance for friends and loved ones who have passed away. On this day, during Requiem Masses, the Office of the Dead is recited.<br />
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The theological basis for the Feast is the belief that those souls which have left the body not perfectly cleansed or have not fully atoned for past sins, cannot yet see God. According to some tradition, those left on earth can apparently help these souls on their journey from Purgatory by praying for them, offering Masses and giving alms.<br />
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Today and this evening many families will go to their family plots and graves, gather around and even bring picnic baskets to celebrate those who have gone before them. Tonight every forgotten grave will be lit up by candles so that the cemetery/ graveyard will just for one night of the year, be bathed in candlelight. I would like to think that visitors would also light a candle on graves of the forgotten ones. In many instances, those graves are not forgotten. It's just that for various reasons not everyone can visit. My father lies over 4,000 miles away and there's no way I could fly to be at his side tonight. But I can and will light a candle for both he and Mummy, and now Richard at home this evening. This morning I lit a candle for my husband. It was only when I arrived at work that it occurred to me that I may not have blown it out! Panic stations as I called someone to pop in and check. Turns out I had extinguished it but probably for obvious reasons, my brain is not working well today!<br />
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I like the customs and traditions of some European countries where candles are burning continuously (24/7) as one did on my Austrian grandmother's grave. Sadly there is no one left there to look after it but I do know that the graveyard keepers when they know there is no family left, do keep the candles lit. In some of those countries, there is a photograph of the deceased together with an eternal flame.<br />
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The origins of this day have been attributed to various religious orders. Some say the Cluny Order (the nuns still teach here in Trinidad), others the Benedictine monks who are also very much here, living in the monastery on Mount St Benedict, a major landmark in this country.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"> The Benedictine Monastery, Mt St Benedict, Trinidad </span><br />
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Whoever it was, it is a wonderful custom which to this day, is celebrated, not only here but in many Catholic countries.<br />
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May God bless all those souls that have gone before us and as I hold my husband in my heart, this evening, even in my grief, I will lift a glass to him and give thanks for the wonderful years he gave me and the many memories that I treasure. Happy Birthday my darling as you watch over me and the family from your place in heaven. x<br />
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-82359987977638908052017-11-01T11:45:00.003-04:002020-11-01T21:38:47.686-04:00All Saints 2017<b><span style="color: #333333;"><br /></span></b>
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<b><span style="color: #333333;">Today, 1 November is All Saints Day which is believed to have been established in the early part of the fourth century and was known as 'Martyrs Day'. All Saints is a Feast Day which honours and remembers all Christian saints whose names we know and those we don't. Western Roman Catholics, Anglicans, and Lutherans celebrate this feast today whereas the Eastern Orthodox churches observe it on the first Sunday after Pentecost. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333;">In the early days, many Christians were persecuted by the Romans and died for their belief in God. To remember those martyrs, various dioceses set aside special days to celebrate. In the early seventh century, the Roman Emperor handed over the Pantheon Temple to the Pope who removed the statues of the Roman gods and consecrated it as 'All Saints in recognition of those who had died from persecution during the first three hundred years after Christ. Pope Gregory III instituted the 1 November as 'All Saints' in the diocese of Rome as he consecrated a chapel to all the martyrs in St Peter's Basilica. Pope Gregory IV extended the feast to the entire church and that is where it remains today except in the Orthodox churches. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333;">That is how people came to be made saints in the early days and when Christians became free to worship openly, the church found other ways to recognize sanctity. Early in Christianity people were made saints by popular acclaim which was then sanctioned by the local bishop. For the last 500 years, the path to sainthood has been a much lengthier process and includes necessary proof of extraordinary sanctity.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333;">In Catholic countries, this day is a Public Holiday and is seen as a Holy Day of Obligation meaning that one is required to attend Mass. In other countries, the day is moved to the nearest Sunday. Countries and cultures have different ways of acknowledging and celebrating this feast. In Spain, Portugal, and Mexico offerings are made. In Belgium, Hungary, and Italy flowers are brought to the graves of dead relatives. In other parts of Europe such as Austria, Croatia, Poland, and Romania it is customary to light candles that are placed on the graves. In parts of Asia such as The Philippines, it is also observed. Relatives go to the graves of the dead, clean and repair them, lay flowers, and light candles. In France, church services are held but by evening the focus has moved towards the dead. People crowd cemeteries and there is much cleaning and lighting of candles. All Saints is closely tied to All Souls' Day, held on the 2 November which is dedicated to prayers for the dead who are not yet glorified. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333;">'All Saints' is not a public holiday in Trinidad but the tradition of the living, visiting the family grave in preparation for the 2 November, is strong and very much part of its culture. On the night of the 1 November, some Trinidadians still put lighted candles in their windows carrying out the age-old belief that 'lost souls' will be able to find their way home.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333;"><br /></span></b>The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-32468272050732248822017-10-31T16:01:00.000-04:002017-10-31T16:01:29.423-04:00A Light Hearted Look HallowtideIt's Halloween folks. I don't have any grandchildren to go trick or treating with which is probably as well because I never really liked it - even as a child. These days from what I can see, it's far more commercialized than when I was growing up. Parents hire costumes, bags have been replaced by baskets which seem to get bigger every year. One toffee apple, a few sweets or a biscuit is no longer acceptable. It has to be several of each! This custom goes back to when people would offer sweets to the imagined spirits supposedly walking among the living.<br />
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Halloween seems to have originated over 2,000 years ago with an ancient pagan Celtic festival during which people would don costumes and light bonfires to ward off invisible ghosts and demons. The dark festival was called Samhain and thousands of Wiccans still call the festival by that name. Carved turnips holding a burning candle were used to repel the spirits. The belief was that the candle in the turnip represented a trapped soul in Purgatory.<br />
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Later pumpkins replaced the turnips.<br />
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It is interesting that when the Romans conquered the Celts in the first century, they adopted Samhain incorporating it into their festivals. The first was Feralia when the Romans commemorated the dead and the second was the feast of Pomona, the goddess of fruit and trees. Pomona's symbol is an apple and so the apple bobbing came into being.<br />
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Halloween is the Christian name for Samhain although it did not appear until the 1700s. In the seventh century Pope Boniface established All Saints' Day to honour Christian martyrs. After the establishment of All Souls on the 2 November, the period became known as Hallowtide. With the spread of Christianity, some of the old pagan customs remained until now when All Hallows has become big business and sweet manufacturers in the US sell more candy than at any other time in the year!<br />
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Happy Halloween to those who are partying, accompanying children as they go from door to door or just sitting back and watching the fun.<br />
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Me? This old witch is off on her newly refurbished, ten-cylinder broom!! Watching from above!!<br />
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The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-54550446676836594562017-10-18T10:56:00.000-04:002017-10-18T11:04:11.127-04:00Shubh Divali 2017To all my friends celebrating The Festival of Lights today, Shubh Divali!<br />
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One of my several blogs about this darkness over light festival.<br />
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http://expatbeesblog.blogspot.com/2015/11/shubh-divali-2015.htmlThe Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-70906255353815494632017-09-17T16:02:00.000-04:002017-09-17T16:02:17.727-04:00Life Now.It's a few weeks since I wrote my last post and quite simply, nothing has changed. If anything, the pain is deeper. Maybe this is because I am beginning to 'feel' as I have been weaning myself off the antidepressants which on thinking about it, is maybe at the moment, not such a very good idea.But if your true feelings are dulled by chemicals, how can you ever get to the bottom of, and deal with the reality of your life?<br />
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Reality of life after the death of your husband (I cannot even begin to think of the pain that the loss of a child brings - and I have several girlfriends who are in that position), is devastating. Apart from anything else it makes you think of your own mortality which can make you sink into a further abyss. I try to counteract those thoughts by telling myself how blessed I am.<br />
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As I sit here and look over a beautiful view, staring at God's creation at its best, not even that can erase the dark thoughts that engulf me. I am reminded of how life really is now. I should be cheered by the daily WhatApp messages that tell me 'to have a beautiful day'. Friends mean well and I am grateful to them but the people who live less than five minutes away and who I am supposed to be close to don't seem to think that it's necessary to check on me. Is this a pity party? Probably. But that's the reality. I tell myself that people have their own lives to lead but at the same time, a 'pop in', a call, would be wonderful. But you don't make that telephone call to them just in case it's not an appropriate time.<br />
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Frustration is a killer. The table that falls apart sends you into despair. The leaking tap in the bathroom becomes a major issue. The new vacuum doesn't do what it's supposed to so you fling it across the living room and leave it there for three days which is unheard of as your family says you have OCD. The leaves on the patio need sweeping up but you cannot get yourself together to face that task. You get angry with a friend who dares to suggest that after ten months, you should have cleared your husband's wardrobe. You bitchily think to yourself 'what the hell would she know? She's never been in this position'. You react badly when someone you have only met on three occasions through work, completely out of the blue asks at a bimonthly, half hour meeting, 'would you like to put your husband's ashes in the crypt?'. Lady, you are out of place. You do not know me. You did not know my husband. And if I want to hang onto my husband's ashes for the next ten years, it's none of your damn business.<br />
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From Monday to Friday, you put on your makeup and face the world. You put on your lipstick, wear the pearls or the statement necklace and it's business as usual. You overhear people saying how well you are doing, your smile which hides the loneliness looks genuine and they go on their merry way. You are touched deeply by a priest, who even if he comes into your office twice a week, gives you a hug. And by the person who puts his head through your office door once a week to ask how you are and sometimes drops chocolate on your desk. Then you go home to an empty apartment that was once filled with music, companionship, and love. Of course there were disagreements which you so disliked but now you would give anything to get angry over a disagreement rather than a vase that broke when the breeze was so strong that a flying curtain knocked it over.<br />
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Don't even mention the horrors of anxiety, the panic attacks and that headache that you convince yourself is an aneurysm. The nausea that makes you think that there is something untoward going on in your body or the nightmares and the bad dreams that cause you to wake up in a cold sweat.<br />
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Self neglect sets in. Sometimes when you have closed that door on a Friday evening, you don't go out again until Monday morning. During that time whilst you shower and put a brush through your hair, there is no makeup, your legs remain unshaven, your nails are a mess and you don't always eat. It's easier to immerse yourself in Netflix, skim through FaceBook, do electronic jigsaws, post on Instagram than it is to dust and polish. And when you do dust and polish you cannot see the difference through the tears.<br />
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Widowhood is a bitch!<br />
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-53960006701070498012017-08-06T17:04:00.000-04:002017-08-06T17:08:49.043-04:00Almost Nine Months a Widow.....<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">After a week short of being nine months a widow, there is still nothing anyone can say that would make me feel better.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Oh, believe me, there are good days in between the total meltdowns but they are few and far between. The smile on my face hides the raw pain from the outside world. Wine doesn't kill the pain, starting to smoke again after thirteen years doesn't take away the stress (so knock that one on the head!), neither valium nor antidepressants ease the ache, and burying myself in my work is only a temporary relief until I open the front door in the evening. I have come to realize that even with a supportive family and very good friends it would be very easy for me to become a recluse. There have been weekends when I have stayed behind closed doors from Friday evening until Monday morning when it's time to face the world again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I am told, as I am so quick to tell others when they have lost a loved one, to treasure the memories but I find it hard, very hard to get past those last few days in the hospital when it became obvious that my husband wasn't going to survive. That horrendous memory is locked in my head and it seems as though someone has thrown away the key.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today, I am in total meltdown. I am not sure whether it is a result of having been unusually busy work-wise over the last two weeks and today finding that I could actually relax or the fact that I am so very tired, that the thought of cleaning, washing and cooking is totally overwhelming. For someone so organized, it's hard to get my head around what's happening.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I know one goes through several stages after a loss. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally, acceptance although the first four really not necessarily in that order. That was confirmed to me yesterday by a dear friend who just happens to be a priest but funnily enough, we weren't discussing me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This year my husband and I would have been married for thirty two years. That together with the two previous years of knowing one another, is sometimes just too hard to think about. Maybe when the raw pain has eased and I come to accept the loss, devastation and anger are a thing of the past, the smile I smile now will be genuine, the raucous laughter real and the fun filled, witty person who people believe has actually already recovered, will really be back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A mask is a terrible thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-27905968497138137402016-12-25T13:09:00.000-04:002016-12-25T13:09:09.672-04:00Christmas Greetings 2016<br />
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Merry Christmas to anyone who comes to this page. Wishing each and every one of you peace, joy, happiness and love for today and always. Let us celebrate family, friendship, love and kindness.<br />
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Let's also remember those who for one reason or another, don't find this season easy to bear but who, regardless of their sadness, put on a brave face. Life for some, is not what is seems.<br />
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Blessings!<br />
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-12518952371865430492016-12-09T13:40:00.002-04:002016-12-09T13:40:32.214-04:00When is Enough, Enough?<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
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Even in my own grief having lost my husband last month, I wept today for a young lady who went missing a few days ago and whose body was found today behind boxes in a busy store in the heart of town. An apparently sheltered twenty year old with her life before her who recently started to work in a major bank and who had called her mother on Monday afternoon to say that she was going to Pennywise and IAM Company before coming home is no longer alive. Her Pennywise bags and a shoe were found before she was. The story apart from being tragic, is smattered with anecdotes of how she was found, where she was found and what had been done to her body before being dumped.</div>
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It's a tragic story and one that, for all the four hundred plus murders that have taken place on this tiny island this year, seems to have hit home more than most. We ignore gangland killings. We ignore disappearances - talking behind closed doors and not so closed doors, of human trafficking, family revenges, gang related revenges. Even though it's very wrong, we seem to take those in our stride.</div>
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So why has this particular murder been the subject of so many threads on social media? So many conversations? Such anger? A population coming together in a unified outrage? The answer is 'women'. Whilst men are also outraged (my driver this evening was beside himself with anger) young women and not so young women have come together and continue to come together in solidarity over this terrible, terrible murder. Many of the women we know - mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts... walk the streets of Port of Spain before work, during the day, popping out for lunch, rushing to Pennywise because goods are cheaper there than in the Malls without a thought for their safety. They stop off at vendors in Charlotte Street to pick up fruit and vegetables, pop into the odd shop as a dress or a top catches their eye and then the Chinese supermarket for a cold drink and something to munch on as they make their way back to the office. Although we have been saying for a long time that nowhere in Trinidad, not even one's own home is safe, I believe the events of today hit home for many women especially those who work in Port of Spain.</div>
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I believe there is to be a silent demonstration tomorrow at the bottom of Charlotte Street. If I could be with them I would be but I know plenty of young women who have pledged to take part. Women from all walks of life. Women from all professions. Women who have had enough. It is time for women to step up and call for a solution. When women en masse are angry it's time to watch out. I sincerely hope this is not a nine day wonder. I sincerely hope that this is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Maybe, just maybe Shannon Banfield's grotesque murder has made women angry enough to call out the necessary authorities; to make them act and to make them understand that women are not second class citizens and that they are entitled to walk the streets without fear, get into taxis without wondering whether or not they will make it to their destinations and be able to walk past a group of men without being harassed and hassled, never mind attacked or murdered.</div>
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This candle is for Shannon. May she rest in eternal peace and may perpetual light shine upon her. May her family be comforted and may the women of Trinidad and Tobago come together as one, remain together as one and make a great deal of noise as one. So much noise that the sound cannot be ignored. Let this not be a nine day wonder - let us use the loss of this innocent young woman to make our voices heard. Only in unity can we make others listen. Only in unity can we make a difference. Let those of us who are outraged today keep up the fight to stem the violence.</div>
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Shannon, soar with angels.</div>
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The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-24669816223328355562016-11-02T22:41:00.000-04:002016-11-03T11:27:17.388-04:00A Birthday and All Souls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today, the 2nd November is All Soul's Day and my husband's birthday. I normally write about All Souls and just tag on the fact that it's my husband's birthday but today, it's the other way around.<br />
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As I write, my husband is very ill, lying in a hospital bed in Port of Spain General Hospital where he is being taken care of by the most amazing team of doctors and nurses. Even though so ill, he insisted that the family take cake and ice cream for the medical staff today. Hardly able to speak, he called me at 6am this morning to ensure I had everything set up including plates, spoons, forks and napkins. By 9.00am my daughter and I were at his bedside having handed over the goodies to the nursing staff. Visiting is normally 11 am to 1.00pm and 4.00pm - 6.00pm. We were allowed to stay on the ward with him from the time we arrived until whenever we chose to leave. I have always made an occasion of special days in the lives of each family member but I did not for one moment think that today I would be by my husband's bedside in a hospital. However he is in good hands and we keep positive, strong, united, have faith and a determination that he will survive this terrible ordeal and heal. <br />
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Having brought some people up to date on my husband's state of health, I will now say that All Soul's is a Catholic day of Remembrance for friends and loved ones who have passed away. On this day, during Requiem Masses, the Office of the Dead has to be recited.<br />
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The theological basis for the Feast is the belief that those souls which have left the body not perfectly cleansed, or have not fully atoned for past sins, cannot yet see God. According to some tradition those left on earth can apparently help these souls on their journey from Purgatory by praying for them, offering Masses and giving alms.<br />
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Today and this evening many families will go to their family plots and graves, gather around and even bring picnic baskets to celebrate those who have gone before them. Tonight every forgotten grave will be lit up by candles so that the cemetery/ graveyard will just for one night of the year, be bathed in candle light. I would like to think that visitors would also light a candle on graves of the forgotten. In many instances those graves where the loved ones lie are not forgotten. It's just that for various reasons not everyone can visit a loved one's grave. My father lies over 4,000 miles away and there is no way I could fly to be at his side tonight. But I can and do light a candle for both he and Mummy at home this evening. Even now it's burning brightly beside a photograph of them together.<br />
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I like the customs and traditions of some European countries where candles are burning continuously (24/7) as one did on my Austrian grandmother's grave. Sadly there is no one left there to look after my grandmother's grave but I do know that the graveyard keepers, when they know there is no family left, do keep the candles lit. In some of those countries there is a photograph of the deceased together with an eternal flame.<br />
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It would seem that the origins of this day have been attributed to various religious orders. Some say the Cluny Order (the nuns still teach here in Trinidad), others the Benedictines who are also still very much here, on Mount St Benedict, a major land mark in this country. <br />
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The Benedictine Monastery, Mt St Benedict, Trinidad </div>
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Whoever it was, it was a wonderful custom which to this day, is celebrated, not only here but in many Catholic countries.<br />
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My wish on this All Souls is that the souls of my departed relatives have found peace. And whilst I am wishing them peace, I also wish for complete healing and for peace of mind for my very sick husband. Happy Birthday darling! Uncomfortable though it is and somewhat painful, you can do this!<br />
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-16504478294523503292016-11-01T22:38:00.000-04:002016-11-01T22:38:52.102-04:00All Saints 1 November 2016<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
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<b><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today, 1 November is All Saints Day which is believed to have been established in the early part of the fourth century and was known as 'Martyrs Day'. It is a Feast Day which honours all Christian saints whose names we know and those we don't. Western Roman Catholics, Anglicans and Lutherans celebrate this Feast today whereas the Eastern Orthodox Church celebrates it on the first Sunday after Pentecost.</span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In early days many Christians were persecuted by the Romans and died for their belief in God. To remember those martyrs, various Dioceses set aside special days to celebrate. In the early seventh century the Emperor of the Roman Empire handed over the Pantheon Temple to the then Pope who removed the statues of the Roman gods and consecrated it as 'All Saints' in recognition of all who had died from persecution during the first three hundred years after Christ. Pope Gregory 111, in the Diocese of Rome, instituted the 1 November as All Saints as he consecrated a chapel to all the martyrs, in St Peter's Basilica. Pope Gregory IV extended the Feast to the entire Church and except in the Eastern Orthodox Church, that is where it remains today.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then, this is how people came to be made saints and when Christians became free to worship openly, the Church found other ways to recognize sanctity. Early in Christianity people were made saints by popular acclaim which was then sanctioned by the local Bishop. For the last five hundred years or so the path to sainthood has been a much lengthier and a more difficult process. Sainthood certainly doesn't come as easily as it once did! Today there has to be proof of extraordinary sanctity in the form of at least one if not two miracles before canonization. However there are exceptions to every rule as in the case of John XXX111 who does not have a miracle to his name but has other amazing attributes.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: #333333; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In Catholic countries All Saints is a Public Holiday and is seen as a Holy Day of Obligation meaning that one is required to attend Mass. In other countries, as with many other Feasts, the day has been moved to the nearest Sunday. Countries and their cultures have different ways of acknowledging and celebrating this Feast. In Spain, Mexico and Portugal offerings are made. In Belgium, Hungary and Italy flowers are brought to the graves of dead relatives. In other parts of Europe, eg Austria, Croatia, Romania and Poland it is customary to place lighted candles on the graves of relatives. In parts of Asia, particularly The Philippines, the Feast of All Saints is also observed. Relatives of those deceased go the graves to clean and repair them, lay flowers and light candles. In France, church services are held but by evening the focus has moved towards the dead. People crowd cemeteries and there is a great deal of cleaning and lighting of candles. All Saints is closely tied to All Souls which falls on the 2 November and is dedicated to prayers for the deceased who are not yet glorified. </span></b></span><br />
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The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-49563790520168983022016-09-17T20:27:00.000-04:002016-09-17T20:27:32.491-04:00Our House - Racquet Versus Mosquito. <br />
Not for the faint -hearted! Strong language!<br />
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Only a few of my friends know that my husband has not been at all well for the last few weeks. In fact, he has not been well for a few months but his health has deteriorated drastically over recent weeks. However, all is not lost. He is undergoing treatment for what has already transpired and all being well, when the 'detectives' find what else is going on in that body of his, we will know what the next move is. Suffice to say, dialysis is on the cards.</div>
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All drama has its humorous moments and as many of you will already know, especially in our house! My daughter has been spending a great deal of time at home since my husband's health took a bad turn. Well, you can imagine:<br /><br />We get alot of mosquitoes. No amount of spray, coils, citronella or other products seem to keep them at bay. We have what looks like a tennis racquet which is used to zap them. This is charged so when the little blighters are zapped, a flash of blue light appears together with a cracking sound and you hear them leave this earth.</div>
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<br />Heard in the Lake household yesterday evening:<br /><br />A zap!</div>
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Daughter: 'There you go mother fucker!'<br />Me: 'Oh! Really?'<br /><br />Three more zaps one after the other.<br /><br />Daughter: 'Aha!'</div>
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Me: 'It had brothers and sisters?"</div>
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I love it when she comes home!</div>
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The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-77951021900409378822016-08-26T15:11:00.000-04:002016-08-26T15:13:35.409-04:00Blank, Just Blank!It is so long since I wrote anything, that I wonder if I am still a Blogger. On my various sites I say I am but since the last bird flew the nest, the Our House series seems to be a thing of the past and with Tess Kinkaid putting Magpie Tales on the back burner, I seem to have lost interest. Or my poetry disappeared along with my Muse. That damn Muse has given me a great deal of trouble over the last year or so. It also means I don't tweet as much, only occasionally post on Instagram and you may get a daily 'good morning cup of tea with love' out of me on Face Book. That's not to say that nothing is happening in my life! There is plenty happening in my life but nothing that I really want to write about including the fact that I was stung last week by an 'unknown' and ended up having a hydrocortisone steroid fed into me intravenously!!<br />
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I could tell you about my days at work, my weekend cleaning sprees, events at the supermarkets, my love of wine, the unusual people I come into contact with who insist on telling me their life stories even though they've only been in my life for two minutes. My sense of humour seems to have bombed recently. Maybe it's because of the months of exasperation when an obviously unwell husband decided he is 'not going to the doctor' but the good news there is that he did go earlier this week. The tests now begin!<br />
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I have lost too many friends for my liking in the last few months and too many friends have lost their husbands/wives. That I believe, has a great deal to do with my lack of interest . The biggest shock was my ex husband dying unexpectedly in a tragic accident last February. We hadn't seen each other for over 20 years but had begun to make contact again albeit only occasionally but it seemed that we were slowly learning that we could communicate again without either one making a mountain out of a molehill. We have a son who had to fly to England to start the 'sorting' out process. His father was meticulous so it wasn't too bad but it's ongoing which makes life somewhat fraught for him and his two sisters. Dying is expensive. The one good thing that came out of this, if there is any good to be had in death, is that my ex sister-in-law novelist Elizabeth Harris/Alyc Clare ( http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/37137.Alys_Clare) and I are now back in touch and she kindly sent me wonderful photos of our happy times together. <br />
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I have a friend who has been lying in a hospital bed since last October. She is in a coma. No tubes apart from one for feeding. Yesterday we received news that a friend of my son and daughter-in-law's whom we also know, had a massive stroke and is lying in the same hospital. She is in her early 50s, was full of life and cannot now, communicate. <br />
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Oh there have been some happy times too - four days in the beautiful sister isle of Tobago, son and his rally partner doing so well in Rally Barbados 2016, daughter celebrating her 30th birthday for an entire week, son celebrating his 38th birthday for an entire night, our 31st wedding anniversary (well that's a miracle and all part of the 'Our House Series'!!!), babies being born, baptisms and other family celebrations.<br />
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It's not all bad. Apart from the will to write, I need to get my sense of humour back into my writings. I see that there is a 'new' feature on Blogger. Well new to me anyway!! Apparently I can add a 'featured post' which will be dug up from my archives. Maybe I'll run a couple of the 'Our House' series but then again, I may go with something more serious such as 'Je Suis Charlie' which is on Up Front and Serious http://exukbritbrat.blogspot.com/<br />
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<br />The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-15850386080648478962016-02-07T20:35:00.001-04:002016-02-07T20:45:29.238-04:00Carnival 2016 and What Recession??<br />
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<b>We are moving into Carnival proper here in Trinidad . The Soca Monarch Finals in the Dimanche Gras Show are taking place as I write and the parties continue. All of this leads us into J'ouvert which starts at 4am tomorrow morning (Monday) followed by the start of the 'greatest show on earth', the street party that is Carnival Monday and Tuesday.</b></div>
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<b>J'ouvert is the raw heart of Trinidad Carnival. It is a massive, night-time street party and procession which crystallizes in central Port of Spain in the early hours of Lundi Gras, before the daytime carnival parades. Really it is a continuation of the season’s 'fetes', parties, of the night before as tens of thousands of revellers spill out onto the streets from about two o'clock looking for more fun. They dance till dawn and beyond - J'ouvert (pronounced jouvay) is a creole corruption of the French jour ouvert meaning day break or morning and signals the start of the bacchanalia that is Carnival.</b></div>
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<b><br />J’ouvert is full of symbols of culture and heritage. It is steeped in tradition and playing mud Mas involves participants known as Jab Jabs covering themselves from head to toe and others in paint, chocolate, mud, white powder or just about anything that sticks. It is J’ouvert custom that no one is clean and a common sight is a being hugged by a muddy revelers. </b></div>
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<b>This traditional part of Carnival starts at around four in the morning and finishes after sunrise. Calypso, Pan and Soca music are the dominating sounds of J’ouvert in Trinidad and the mass of revellers take the street party wining and chipping their way to the Savannah in Port of Spain in the early hours of Lundi Gras, before the daytime carnival parades.</b></div>
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<b>The roots of J’ouvert in Trinidad go back 200 years, with the arrival of French plantation owners. The French never colonised Trinidad, however elements of their culture remained. J’Ouvert evolved from the Canboulay festivals in the 1800’s, which were night time celebrations where the landowners dressed up and imitated the negres jardins (garden slaves). Following emancipation, the newly freed slaves took over Canboulay, now imitating their former masters imitating them. </b></div>
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<b>Canboulay revellers, who carried lighted cane torches, were seen as a potential risk by the authorities and the tension mounted leading to the Canboulay riots. It was eventually banned, and then was re established as J’ouvert. The Canboulay Riots are now acted out in the streets during the week leading up to Carnival. The spectacular costumes represent characters and events from the history and folklore. Moko Jumbie Bats, Bookmen, Baby dolls, jab molassie, devil mas are all traditional Carnival characters that capture the elements of the past, and continue to tell the story.</b></div>
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<b>So here we go again, when crime will be at an all time low between Monday and Tuesday, when people have spent, although we are in a recession, thousands of dollars on costumes they can't afford, when there will be integration of all the races that make up Trinidad and Tobago without any trouble (by Ash Wednesday they will be ignoring or fighting with one another again!), when non-stop music will fill the air, when visitors from all over the world will come and spend their US dollars, UK pounds and Euro dollars. And we really do need the foreign exchange!</b></div>
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<b>It is a lovely time and the only thing that threatens to spoil it at the moment is the strong possibility of rain!!</b></div>
The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4890866550699482561.post-43639689370729348692015-12-27T22:16:00.000-04:002015-12-27T22:16:05.865-04:00A Birthday, Mortality and Forgiveness!I wrote this a few minutes ago on Face Book so would like to share it here.<br /><br />I am copying and pasting (because it's easier and late in the day) so there will undoubtedly be a white background. That is the least of my worries. It's the message I want to get across!!<br />
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Over the last two weeks, many of us friends here in Trinidad (and probably further afield) have unexpectedly lost family, friends and acquaintances which has more than shocked us. For me, especially as I have a birthday tomorrow, it has made me realize once again, my own mortality. I normally manage to put that to the back of my mind but today, as I have been doing for the last several weeks, I am facing it head on because the one certain thing in this life is that death<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"> is inevitable. No one can get around it and bargaining with the man upstairs doesn't actually cut it!</span></div>
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No there is nothing wrong with me - I am not ill (maybe a little off my rocker at times and for those of you who follow me, know I fall alot!!) but I have decided to put certain things that I thought I had overcome and obviously had not, behind me. I am extending my hand in friendship to those who have hurt me and to those I have hurt. You know, at the end of the day, we can either be forgiving or remain remain hard hearted. I have seen what hard heartedness does and it's not pleasant. It manifests in so many unsuspecting ways, including physical illness. Me? I want peace and harmony and wish the same for the people in my life, be they family or friends. Extending the olive branch is never a sign of weakness.</div>
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Life is not a rehearsal people! Decide today what you want out of the rest of yours! With love xxx</div>
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The Blog of Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00650938872732748697noreply@blogger.com5