Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore art thou?................

As most of you know by now, I have been on my own for the past eighteen months, since my partner died.

Those close to me have begun to suggest that it might be time for me to find a bit of romance,(after all I'm not getting any younger!)

Maybe I do need a man. I suppose it would make sense..............

I have wants,

I have needs,

I have a barbecue that needs lighting,

................and ceilings that need a coat of paint.

So, I decided to do a bit of research on online dating.

Well! You just would not believe how many dating sites there are.

I joined a couple - obviously just for research purposes ;O)

I decided on a username, "desperateoflincoln".

I logged in and thought the best place to get some hints and tips would be on the chat boards.

Gosh! The girls on there were terribly helpful.

For anyone else who is thinking of giving online dating a try, I would like to pass on our observations.................................

The text in bold is what blokes have written in their profiles. I have translated them for you.

Good sense of humour - laughs his head off at you when you snap your high heel in a drain cover.

Solvent - saves all his Sainsbury's points from buying beer.............

then spends his saved points on............

....more beer!

Independent - able to tie his own shoelaces. (With supervision.)

Sensitive - sulks when you comment on his beer drinking/swearing/bathroom habits.

Likes quiet nights in - either he's broke or a cheapskate.

Likes walks in the country - either he's broke or a cheapskate.(Yes, I DID mean to repeat myself!)

Looking for a soul mate who will be in tune with my needs - wants someone who'll notice when the fridge is getting empty

............and the laundry basket's getting full.

Loves motorbikes - able to make a quick getaway when it's his turn to buy a round of drinks.

Romantic and loves loads of cuddles - likes a quick grope in the back seat of his car.

Tactile - likes to squeeze his blackheads and plucks your bra strap in public.

Loves fresh air - has the windows wide open because of his stinky feet.

Music lover - can fart in tune to "God Save the Queen"

I think I'd rather buy some firelighters (for the barbecue,) and an extension for my paint roller (for the ceilings)

My wants and needs?

P'raps I should get myself a cat...............

P.S. I have received this lovely award from Debbie at Vintage Wants and Needs

Thanks, Debbie!

P.P.S. I will be absent from Blogland for a little while.

There are more repairs to be done here at Dollytub Cottage, and in order to avoid the chaos - I've got luggage to pack, trains to catch, and sandcastles to build.

But best of all - grandchildren to hug!

I'll be back with more tales before you know it!

Over the Rainbow

My nephew Bruce was about 3 years old and he was walking back from Nursery with his Mum.

That morning the children had been learning their colours.

As they were walking along the road, Bruce was practising by telling his Mum the colour of things.

"Look, Mummy! That's a blue gate."

"Isn't that a black gate, Mummy?"

"Oh look! There's a green gate."

As they were going along, a young asian man was walking towards them.

Bruce asked, at the top of his voice,

"MUMMY, WHAT COLOUR'S THAT MISTER?"

His mum was absolutely mortified.

The young man, turned on his heels and walked back towards them.

He ruffled Bruce's hair gently and said,

"I'm BROWN, sonny, and your Mum is RED."

You are a Child of the Universe

Liam Summer 1970

So, my dear bloggeroos, by now you know that if you read my blog - you will, hopefully, find something to make you smile.

I have plenty more humorous tales in my arsenal, but today - I wanted to share something different.

Please don't think I'm on a 'downer' cos I'm not. Quite the opposite, in fact. I have had tremendous support from family and friends since Liam's death.

I'm now feeling strong enough to tell some of our story.

This post is to reach out to anyone who is living with pain in their lives: physical or emotional.

I follow many blogs and every day I read many examples of genuine pain.

I read stories of illness, despair and depression. People, just like me, having to deal with the heartache and loss of bereavement.

I see very poignant memories of mothers who have lost their babies and children well before their time.

There are families worrying every day about their loved ones who are overseas serving their country.

We all suffer life's problems.

Most of us have lived through some very challenging times in our lives.

Times we thought we would never get through. But, we DID get through them.

Time truly is a great healer.

We bounce back. We're not the same person, but we have to become accustomed to changes in our lives.

We have to come to terms with life being as it is, not how we would like it to be.

Life goes on, even life without Liam, so here is our story................................

Liam, my late partner and I first met about 6 months after the above photo was taken.

He was 16, I was 14.

We had been friends for over 30 years, and then we fell in love.

Over the years that followed our first meeting, our paths crossed on numerous occasions. A few times we worked at the same company. Another time I was freelancing as a Dental Assistant and he was living in the same building. As I've mentioned before, Liam was a singer, and our family would enjoy a great night out watching him perform.

Many years passed, Liam had never married, so when his Mum had a heart attack in 1987, he returned from Texas where he was living and working, to keep a watchful eye on her. Once back in Blighty, he earned a living from his singing, but would never take a booking further than 50 miles away, so that he would be at home overnight for his Mum.

To supplement his income he trained as a Driving Instructor.

He had moved in with her,but in 1993 she had another heart attack and became housebound. Liam gave up his singing and driving instructing and cared for her full time until her death in 2000.

Between 1992 and his Mum's death, we lost touch. We bumped into each other a couple of times, but I was dealing with my own life dramas.

He rarely drank alcohol before his Mum's illness, but the strain of looking after her and the lack of support he received, resulted in him finding solace in a whiskey bottle. Following his Mum's funeral, he had taken a fall downstairs, breaking his shoulder and collarbone.

I would visit him and try to help where I could, but he was a physical and emotional wreck.

I tried so hard to raise his spirits, and although his depression lifted a little, he was still drinking quite heavily.

One day, I was feeling especially stressed and worn out. (I was working full time and trying to look after both of our houses.) We had to face the truth. Liam was an alcoholic.

I burst into tears and asked him,

"Why do you want to die?"

He stared at me in disbelief and answered,

"Don't be daft - I don't want to die."

"Look in the mirror, mate. You ARE dying, can't you see that?" I asked.

He looked in the mirror, and without saying a word - he went to the sink and poured the bottle of whiskey he was drinking from down the sink.

He went all over his house and found other bottles, half bottles and even a few miniatures - he began to pour them away too. I wanted to help him get rid of them, but he said,

"No, I have to do this by myself."

"OK, I'm done with that now - I'll never drink again." and he meant it!

That was in March 2001, and with help and support from me and his GP he never touched any more alcohol after that day. Sadly, that was only the beginning of his recovery.

We got him through the withdrawal effects, and he started eating again. A week later, following a blood test, he was admitted to hospital weighing only 7stone. He was 46, but he looked like a little old man. After being pumped full of fluids and vitamins for two days, he was sent home and not expected to live.

Thank goodness the doctors were all wrong! He had to have liver function tests done for the first year, but he made an almost full recovery, although he still had trouble with his shoulder.

We became a couple the following Summer.

He never drank another drop of alcohol until his death in November 2008. He put on weight, his depression lifted. We had 7 very happy years together.

Little did we know - the damage had already been done.

Liam died from cancer of the oesophagus. Sad to say, this type of cancer is often a result of previous alcohol abuse.

He once told me that throughout his life he had always got inspiration from this poem, and I share it with you now..................

Desiderata


Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
(Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.)

Twice in his life, I had looked after Liam, nursed him, helped him bathe, and bullied him into eating.

Both times were difficult and traumatic.

If I could turn back the clock, would I do that for him again?

You bet - in a heartbeat!

The Lie-in, the Ditch and the Wardrobe.........

Or...............the day I went missing..............

This story has almost nothing to do with Narnia, other than the fact that, as I was an avid reader as a child, and sometimes my imagination would get the better of me. (Nothing new there, then!)

It was the wonderful Summer of 1966 and England had just won the World Cup............

It was the six week long Summer Holidays from school.

My brother was almost 16, I was 10, and my sister, ("ickle ditder") was 5.

My brother, Les was an apprentice butcher but he had Tuesdays off.

Mumsie was at work, so we had a young woman called Georgina who came round to look after us.

I shared a room with Ickle Ditder, Mandy. She would drive me mad! I have always loved my bed - Mum never had a problem getting me to go to bed at night.

Not only was I keen to get into my bed - I was just as keen to stay in it too!

One day, I promised Mandy that if she went down quietly for breakfast, allowing me to have a lie-in, I would play hide and seek with her later.

When I eventually got up, Mandy, Les and Georgina were all out in the garden.

I crept down to where they were, hoping Mandy didn't see me. I wanted to go in and finish reading my book "The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe." Whenever I wasn't sleeping I was usually reading - Mumsie used to call me "Bookworm Belinda."

Georgina, Les and Mandy were all digging a ditch. Some of the other local kids were there too.

Three years earlier we had had the Cuban Missile Crisis, and there had been a genuine threat that we could have been involved in a nuclear war.

People were still worried that it may still happen. There were nuclear shelters featured everywhere - on TV, magazines and newspapers.

My parents have a huge garden, and we convinced them they we ought to dig a shelter. They were humouring us, of course, but at least it would keep us out of mischief!

We'd torn pictures and plans from newspapers, and so it was, that we began to dig our shelter.

Daddio showed us where we could build it and suggested that we should begin by digging ditches where we would eventually put the walls of the shelter. He knew that we would soon get fed up with this project.

The area just happened to coincide with the bit of the garden that he needed digging for growing potatoes. (Ooooh Daddio - you're naughty!)

Nobody spotted me behind the gooseberry bush, so I decided to leave them to it - much too much like hard work!!

I went into the living room where it was nice and cool and picked up my book.

Half an hour later, Ickle Ditder came in to find me.

"Come on then, play hide and seek with me." she pleaded.

I closed my eyes, Mandy hid behind the sofa.

I strung the game out a bit - she always hid in the same place.

(Except when she was three and sat herself in an enormous open drawer with her eyes closed, convinced that made her invisible!)

"You hide now" she told me.

I set off upstairs, "Where shall I hide?" I wondered.

Taking the idea from my book - I decided to hide in the wardrobe in Mum and Dad's bedroom.

They had an old utility wardrobe - the sort that closes with a key.

I studied it for a minute and realised that if I half turned the key, I could get inside the wardrobe, and then carefully pull the door closed and push the lock the rest of the way with my finger. This closed the door.

Never one to miss the chance of a good read, I had also taken my book and a torch in with me.

"She'll never find me in here," I thought.

This was a sort of 'spare' wardrobe, there was plenty of room for me as all that was in there was

Mumsie's fur coat. (100% Genuine Nylon)

Her one and only ball gown (This was altered slightly each Christmas, to make it look like a new one!)

And last but not least my ballroom dance dress. (I took Old Time Dance lessons in those days, eventually perfecting the art of curtseying in the Military Two Step without catching the heel of me shoe in me frilly knickers!)

Not only did she not find me, when she got fed up of looking, she went out into the garden and forgot all about me.

I was ok for about 20 minutes, then the battery went in the torch. Then I panicked, then I cried. Then I panicked again!

In the meantime, one of the lads noticed I was missing. With the precision of a Major General, Les organised the Search Party.

Dennis, Sue H, and two Kevins went to look for me on the nearby playing field. (I'm not sure where my BBF Carol was, I think she had the mumps!)

Georgina and Les went in to look in the house.

I was quite hysterical by the time they let me out of the wardrobe.

Still, at least I'd finished my book in peace, but it's no wonder that I get claustrophobia!

The Nuclear Shelter? We never did finish it....................................

.............................But we did have a lovely crop of potatoes!

One Year On.....................

Hello my dear Bloggeroos, I thought it might be interesting to revisit the blogpost I wrote a year ago.

Those of you who were around then may remember that I had finally given up trying to tame my unruly hair, and go a little shorter.

You may also remember that in a fit of lunacy and lack of medication - I decided to cut it myself.

Never one to do things by halves, I decide to go very short.

With the help of my best wallpapering scissors.

I know, I know.......but it seemed a good idea at the time.

This resulted not only in the maddest hairstyle you ever did see, but also my best bra lost a strap as I got carried away and didn't steer the scissors as I should.

Still, at least I was well equipped to wear a dress like this...............................

I tell this tale in the hope that it will give you some idea of my family's ethos and culture. (Oooooh, don't I sound edukated today?)

The family Saturday Brunch takes place almost every weekend at my parent's house and is otherwise known as "Audrey's Party" (Audrey is Mumsie's name) .

It is a source of joy and merriment.

Their home is a haven of peace and tranqillity (but only when us lot aren't there.)

We support each other in times of crisis and despondancy,

we cheer each other up,

we lend each other money, (Did I just hear a violin?)

But for all that, we do love a good laugh at the expense of another family member.

So, following the crisis with my hairstyle, and the hairdresser being on honeymoon - I was not looking forward to facing the loopy loons the Saturday morning following the haircut.

I purposely went later than usual. I had hoped that some of the Smart Mouths had already had their fill of cheese baps and wagon wheels and gone home.

No such luck!

DAD :Ha ha ha! Do you want to take your hat off?

I wasn't even wearing one!

ELDEST SON:Who did this to you? Do you want me to beat them up?

ICKLE DITDER:Would you like to borrow my pashmina, it's got a hood? Ha ha ha!

ME: (protesting through me Kleenex) OK! OK! IT'S NOT FUNNY - YOU'RE NOT BIG AND YOU'RE NOT CLEVER

That was a fib actually 'cos my eldest son is both!

The nearest I got to any sympathy was when Mumsie cooed, : "Oh you poor dear would you like to hide in Dad's shed?"

Dad's Shed

DADDIO: Steady on there, Manageress (his pet name for Mum). She can't go in there. The finches are nesting and the red factor canaries are still settling in.

BROTHER NUT: Now then Our Susie, buck up. It's not like a whacky hairstyle will harm your youthful good looks. That already happened years ago.

This is supposed to make me feel better?

He continued "I've always thought you such a plucky old girl. You're brave - you open letters from your Bank Manager, you open the door to Jehovah's Witnesses and don't hide behind the sofa with the rest of us."

ICKLE DITDER: Would you feel better if you had a cuppa tea?

ME: (Wiping me nose on Mumsie's pinny,)Yeah that'd be great!

ICKLE DITDER: Oh well, in that case, I'll have one if you're making a brew.

BROTHER NUT: And me.

ELDEST SON: Go on then, you twisted me arm.

DADDIO: Did I hear someone's put the kettle on - I'm parched.

I'm standing in the corner where we make the tea, I have my back to them.

Do they really think I can't hear them softly whistling "Send in the Clowns".

Don't forget to scroll down if you missed my previous posts this week