It absolutely does not 'do' to be sick in holy Ireland.
it also does not 'do' to ask for the help due to being sick in Ireland.
we don't 'do' sickie protests, out of fear really of not getting anything at all.
i got nothin' not even a cup of tea today.
there is simple logic at play in all of this...well, its considered simple and i consider it otherwise.
we are identical twins.
we are sickies.
we are disabled
we are very cobbled.
i am in bed possibly for the first time since before festive times.
bloody awful earache, crohns gone mad and ditto sjogrens.
i state 'i am in bed'
i state, 'gud, gotta take a day in bed.'
so i do just that.
i need a cup of tea and i am wrapped in boxes up to my ears and plants coming out of the ceiling (growing by the window)
i get up, get the cuppa and return to bed.
it now comes to lunch time, that time when most eat up to get fortified for the second belt of a day on the trott of living etc.
tweny past one and no sign of the living nor lunch.
twin is on her bed.
her home help...notice..her home help is playing with plates in soapy water.
i ask her is she not making my twin a simple lunch. well you would, like.
you just would.
twenty past one..home help...etc.
nope.
i blow a gasket...now that is not kosher with anyone in this house.
no bloody tea, no bloody soup, no bloody dried toast and no fecking anything..and everyone got the message ok.
a blast between the twin and i about home helps ensued.
who is she there for?
well the twin..naturally..
here is the catch.
i am due this sort of 'service' but although i have been interviewed, and got a gp and such. the home help service have not ratified my 'service,'
that means i don't get the cup of tea nor do i share in a simple meal with the twin.
the home help decides that playing with soap suds in designer tops is the order of the day.
my darling twin tries to inform me of the rights i have within the house.
none it seems.
even in a home of sickies.
the home help is only there to help one sickie for god's sake.
even though one packet soup, one and a half jugs of water and a quick stir can be divided between two sickies.
i storm out at the daftness of it all.
blasted regulations of no home help you ain't signed up to that.
And oh, home help sort of didn't realize that twin may need lunch.
yep.
so we have a fun time trying to clarify the necessities of being sanctioned and ratified and registered and intelligent design.
Sort of thing.
The poor twin says its her fault.
it is not.
Its about intelligence. you have two people tired, shattered and sick and not feeling well and delinquent tired, and shattered and sick.
it takes intelligence to understand that two sickies on their respective beds may need a bit of packet soup with one and a half jugs of water and a five minute stir out of her two hours of allotted time with the twin.
nope.
I AM BEING REPORTED TO THE SERVICES FOR BLOWIN A GASKET ON THIS ONE!
yep.
all's fair in love and war they say.
yep.
they say!
awnyah will have her say.
AWNYAH TODAYSAY Ann living in the Republic of Ireland and it is not a good thing. We have now ratified the EU convention on the rights of people with disabilities, yet we failed in ratifying the optional protocol, allowing us ability to make complaints to the EU under the convention, with little facility to do so in our own country. We go unheard in every sense of the word. This is unjust and leaves us more vulnerable and open to abuses. We are suffering. I am suffering.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
We get Dawn's We get freedom, we get Sunsets!
True! All Three. Beautiful.
never pin a wild woman down! Never box a Free spirit into a hole.
Never fight with a fighter especially a spirited one!
I say so, and definitely so.
So i am out...finally away from a lot of difficulties in my social housing unit.
I spirited my belongings, many my life's carefully written and painted belongings and many heavy and weighty ones as well. Down that there avenue with my wheelchair as a barrow, up and down, up and down and down and up again. my poor old people chariot is looking very very ricksaw like, and rickety.
the bolts and nuts will have to be re-bolted and nutted!
people did help but not often, the ones that did where not family but i call my little helpers as in personal assistants. one helped more than another but they all did a fair bit in the short time they had.
and they helped gladly.
my twin of course helped with her wheelchair taking up the rear on the trawl down that avenue, the one i hated so much but also the one i decorated and loved so much as edged in pinks and whites and pale blues and snappy dragons too. all cuttings taken and seeds too, for the next two years.
the sadness was most for what i was living behind of real value, the friendships with the wee children, who grew to love my chihauhaus and gained my trust, i also loved the birds, which were drawn to what i provided, the seeds and in the summer the muck and moss and the water bath. i had two nests from robin and blackbird.
i loved it there when my small yard was tropical in a temperate climate, lush my plants grew in a sort of protected ecosystem that oozed shelter, warmth and also held moisture for there was little drainage so during the growing period, plants grew.
i missed the swinging sparrows and the dive bombing of tiny coal tits and their quick retreat to safety. i miss the chirping on the high branches.
what i have not missed at all, is the drinking and the result of drinking. wailing male banshees.
verbal male drunks.
threatening male drunks and broken items, thrown items of eggs and hurley balls and even being shot at by the child on the wall.
i am out, no more bringing a hammer to bed, but peace.
here on top of this mountain i see the most glorious dawn, i never thought this was possible, for i had not seen such til today and yesterday and the past month. How can one reach 60 without seeing the sun rise over the sea and produce such grandeur? How can one watch enthralled, or snap enthralled as you run out at dawn to capture it with the camera, dressed like an oddity, in spotty jammy bottoms, followed by african dress and finally followed by the good old Dunnes Stores woolly dressing gown, woolly hat and mits finish off the nut and sheepskin boots finish off the bolt!
imagine now i drive away from my twins and i come to a hillside strewn with live sheep! not beer cans and fish heads as i drive away!
Here i do not see threat nor feel threatened.
Here i see beauty and hear peace.
i have discovered lovely neighbours for my twin and a new beautiful neighbour who i shall have shortly, if she stops falling onto the floor and no means of getting up unless helped and no means of that unless an older geezer than herself can get her up.
excitement in the possibilities of my new place.
60min makeover programmes watched in glee and wonder as i wonder how it will pan out for the last blast of live, my final attempt to make it happy, healthy and stress and fear free.
in other words, a thank you card to all that is good in life.
never pin a wild woman down! Never box a Free spirit into a hole.
Never fight with a fighter especially a spirited one!
I say so, and definitely so.
So i am out...finally away from a lot of difficulties in my social housing unit.
I spirited my belongings, many my life's carefully written and painted belongings and many heavy and weighty ones as well. Down that there avenue with my wheelchair as a barrow, up and down, up and down and down and up again. my poor old people chariot is looking very very ricksaw like, and rickety.
the bolts and nuts will have to be re-bolted and nutted!
people did help but not often, the ones that did where not family but i call my little helpers as in personal assistants. one helped more than another but they all did a fair bit in the short time they had.
and they helped gladly.
my twin of course helped with her wheelchair taking up the rear on the trawl down that avenue, the one i hated so much but also the one i decorated and loved so much as edged in pinks and whites and pale blues and snappy dragons too. all cuttings taken and seeds too, for the next two years.
the sadness was most for what i was living behind of real value, the friendships with the wee children, who grew to love my chihauhaus and gained my trust, i also loved the birds, which were drawn to what i provided, the seeds and in the summer the muck and moss and the water bath. i had two nests from robin and blackbird.
i loved it there when my small yard was tropical in a temperate climate, lush my plants grew in a sort of protected ecosystem that oozed shelter, warmth and also held moisture for there was little drainage so during the growing period, plants grew.
i missed the swinging sparrows and the dive bombing of tiny coal tits and their quick retreat to safety. i miss the chirping on the high branches.
what i have not missed at all, is the drinking and the result of drinking. wailing male banshees.
verbal male drunks.
threatening male drunks and broken items, thrown items of eggs and hurley balls and even being shot at by the child on the wall.
i am out, no more bringing a hammer to bed, but peace.
here on top of this mountain i see the most glorious dawn, i never thought this was possible, for i had not seen such til today and yesterday and the past month. How can one reach 60 without seeing the sun rise over the sea and produce such grandeur? How can one watch enthralled, or snap enthralled as you run out at dawn to capture it with the camera, dressed like an oddity, in spotty jammy bottoms, followed by african dress and finally followed by the good old Dunnes Stores woolly dressing gown, woolly hat and mits finish off the nut and sheepskin boots finish off the bolt!
imagine now i drive away from my twins and i come to a hillside strewn with live sheep! not beer cans and fish heads as i drive away!
Here i do not see threat nor feel threatened.
Here i see beauty and hear peace.
i have discovered lovely neighbours for my twin and a new beautiful neighbour who i shall have shortly, if she stops falling onto the floor and no means of getting up unless helped and no means of that unless an older geezer than herself can get her up.
excitement in the possibilities of my new place.
60min makeover programmes watched in glee and wonder as i wonder how it will pan out for the last blast of live, my final attempt to make it happy, healthy and stress and fear free.
in other words, a thank you card to all that is good in life.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
most things going fluttering mad and being chaotic
Is there a full moon right now?
or is it just in my head, today and yesterday and the day before?
and if there is a full moon, when does the full moon become 'not a full moon,' like how long is the moon full?
my moon is kinda swollen and limp and yet twirling and bright and i want it to shrink, just a bit.
it can shine but not glare, please.
right analogy over.
i am reeling with exhaustion...thats what i meant to say..really...
so i am reeling.
spinning and moonish mad inside with flurry and frenzy and fluttering.
but then so are the birds, hitchcock style.
the days are in it, melting down the days to full moon winter for the birdies, and very soon that will be with unexpected early snows on the hills of donegal, to my utter horror.
the starlings, so, and the house sparrows are beak sharp at attack they are dive bombing the underbellies of all in the way..of the bird feeder, which too is swirling and swinging.
the other feeder placed behind the bamboo, just about is for the little uns, the great tits, which i adore, they whizz in like an oversized bee and have the skill and agility of swallows, its a smash and grab effect and if they linger they ruin everything.
yes, my tit sits briefly on the peg for the claws and he uses that tiny beak to flick aside the unwanted and most of the food seems unwanted, he spits and rakes and scatters, then grabs and flees.
leaving a carpet of dandruff seends all over the floor of my yard, inviting the fat chihuahuas to forage, and yes, she eats seeds, any and all.
and getting fatter.
so the birds are mad at it, building up for the big snow.
i am flurrying around trying to get a home and money and resources and want all before the impending winter but its looking less likely.
in the meantime i am storing up on freebies for the free internet sites.
thus far i have a bundle of floor tiles, wall tiles and fab cobalt tiles.
i have a nice chair, that has a bit of a bounce, very relaxing and not too big.
i have three beautiful 'arts & crafts' dining chairs pulled from a skip or is it dumpster in the USA.
i also have a genuine article of a Directors chair, just like my mama used to have, thats a freebie.
and so the freebs are there to get.
on the grants side i wasnt so lucky and told instantly not even to 'go there.'
that produced a giggle, but no one 'goes there,'
really, for there is no money, you just live in hope there is and then get disappointed and one should start to say, 'gud i am sorry i even asked!'
so we have the house and some chairs to sit on and i do have my bed and some shiny tiles and two chihuahuas and a wicked new neighbour Kathleen, who enjoys clowns as in ornaments etc, loves colours, is a 'silver surfer' for at 88 she uses the computer.
she also uses the sewing machine and does jigsaws.
she loves her garden and the birds.
she wears a hairband, has lost a few front teeth and has a wicked sense of humour, aka the chopping board decorated in abstract images of med capsules, which made me split with laughter.
amongst all the old stuff of her age, you see the modern seeping in, the cup stipey and happy with the polka dot coloured saucers, just snuck in a small cavity cos she says, i love colour.
she is in a new age my dear new neighbour.
as she helped me down a step into her lean to conservatory, with a gap of thirty years!
everyone should adopt a granny, woa very very good for the soul.
for a change i am happy, just happier, more settled in the brain that i will be happy and when i sat in my new home to be, i just knew it.
this is home, i have come home.
and i want there fast.
in my social housing unit last night i heard a very heavy bat in the attic, whether these three housing units are all joined up there with no separation is unknown, and what the strong aggressive geezer was doing up there was anyone's guess.
if he was crawling the cavities for bad motives, he certainly unnerved me and i was unsure of it all.
that sort of thing i will be shut of for an 88 yr old woman with few front teeth will hardly be of evil intent in my attic.
oh gud get me outta here fast...now that i know!
or is it just in my head, today and yesterday and the day before?
and if there is a full moon, when does the full moon become 'not a full moon,' like how long is the moon full?
my moon is kinda swollen and limp and yet twirling and bright and i want it to shrink, just a bit.
it can shine but not glare, please.
right analogy over.
i am reeling with exhaustion...thats what i meant to say..really...
so i am reeling.
spinning and moonish mad inside with flurry and frenzy and fluttering.
but then so are the birds, hitchcock style.
the days are in it, melting down the days to full moon winter for the birdies, and very soon that will be with unexpected early snows on the hills of donegal, to my utter horror.
the starlings, so, and the house sparrows are beak sharp at attack they are dive bombing the underbellies of all in the way..of the bird feeder, which too is swirling and swinging.
the other feeder placed behind the bamboo, just about is for the little uns, the great tits, which i adore, they whizz in like an oversized bee and have the skill and agility of swallows, its a smash and grab effect and if they linger they ruin everything.
yes, my tit sits briefly on the peg for the claws and he uses that tiny beak to flick aside the unwanted and most of the food seems unwanted, he spits and rakes and scatters, then grabs and flees.
leaving a carpet of dandruff seends all over the floor of my yard, inviting the fat chihuahuas to forage, and yes, she eats seeds, any and all.
and getting fatter.
so the birds are mad at it, building up for the big snow.
i am flurrying around trying to get a home and money and resources and want all before the impending winter but its looking less likely.
in the meantime i am storing up on freebies for the free internet sites.
thus far i have a bundle of floor tiles, wall tiles and fab cobalt tiles.
i have a nice chair, that has a bit of a bounce, very relaxing and not too big.
i have three beautiful 'arts & crafts' dining chairs pulled from a skip or is it dumpster in the USA.
i also have a genuine article of a Directors chair, just like my mama used to have, thats a freebie.
and so the freebs are there to get.
on the grants side i wasnt so lucky and told instantly not even to 'go there.'
that produced a giggle, but no one 'goes there,'
really, for there is no money, you just live in hope there is and then get disappointed and one should start to say, 'gud i am sorry i even asked!'
so we have the house and some chairs to sit on and i do have my bed and some shiny tiles and two chihuahuas and a wicked new neighbour Kathleen, who enjoys clowns as in ornaments etc, loves colours, is a 'silver surfer' for at 88 she uses the computer.
she also uses the sewing machine and does jigsaws.
she loves her garden and the birds.
she wears a hairband, has lost a few front teeth and has a wicked sense of humour, aka the chopping board decorated in abstract images of med capsules, which made me split with laughter.
amongst all the old stuff of her age, you see the modern seeping in, the cup stipey and happy with the polka dot coloured saucers, just snuck in a small cavity cos she says, i love colour.
she is in a new age my dear new neighbour.
as she helped me down a step into her lean to conservatory, with a gap of thirty years!
everyone should adopt a granny, woa very very good for the soul.
for a change i am happy, just happier, more settled in the brain that i will be happy and when i sat in my new home to be, i just knew it.
this is home, i have come home.
and i want there fast.
in my social housing unit last night i heard a very heavy bat in the attic, whether these three housing units are all joined up there with no separation is unknown, and what the strong aggressive geezer was doing up there was anyone's guess.
if he was crawling the cavities for bad motives, he certainly unnerved me and i was unsure of it all.
that sort of thing i will be shut of for an 88 yr old woman with few front teeth will hardly be of evil intent in my attic.
oh gud get me outta here fast...now that i know!
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
i have neglected yeti 'blog'
well yes, it feels like the yeti disappeared on me and yet it didn't.
i had known, yes i had indeed.
awnyah had not written up, comments, views, nor had an 'attitude'
so what does one do about all this?
she finds a place in brain and time to have this much loved 'attitude.'
a lot has happened indeed.
two friends have experienced very severe shocks indeed.
life events, trauma as they are known.
just yet my friend, i don't want these for myself but realize that persons' bodies and minds are but frail.
when can i know that one day i shall too receive a severe blow to this body or to this mind?
i will not.
What i do understand right now, increasingly, is how difficult too many people are finding it right now and it is shocking.
the difficult times we face, as i speak for 'little' people are not self-inflicted but sent our way via the greed pole, that my friends are the strong-er, the men, usually, at the top.
they are the ones in charge, or so we the little ones believe. Well, they tell us they are in charge...yep.
they are in charge of my money, your money, my life and your life.
greedy greedy seedy men and the odd woman thrown in and they have disabled us.
hook line and slinker sinker disabled us all.
we now have this around our bloody little necks until the day we die.
and what a burden.
it will be even more so for further disabled people.
here i speak of Disabled bodies, and the minds.
Lets give a few examples.
on the stats side i can say that ireland now has a mental health budget second to none, its the grand sum of 5% of total when before over ten/fifteen years ago it was 13% with this percentage now we are about the lowest in european spending to support the mental health of our nation.
i do not like this.
when we consider mental health so badly, not worthy of input we also engender this attitude on all, that those with mental health difficulties are not worthy of our cash and cash is in short supply.
All will experience a mental health crisis at least ONCE in our lives. what happens then if you need this care?
there is no money.
well, there is so little that what there is is not giving adequate help to our most vulnerable and needy and its perceived as either not a worthy enough cause or a waste of cash that our nation does not have.
Let us think of how little money there is in the pot for health now. mostly the health of again another tragically dependent and vulnerable group, the disabled man, woman and child in our country.
Our adaption grants have been frozen in some counties.
our 'one pair of shoes' a year has been stopped due to lack of cash, now consider this...we all have to use the feet!
and when the feet are not well, sick and deformed, well what do you expect us to put on them, especially when unwell, sick and unhappy feet need specialised care when chosing and fitting a pair of shoes or boots whatever?
will we go out now in bedroom slippers in the snow?
or freeze the nails off the toes by going without?
hard times indeed.
dark ages times indeed.
Lets see further....a freeze on consultant appointments, second lowest consultant numbers of neurologists in europe.
not enough rheumatologists and indeed not enough of any highly specialized expert in this nation. Remember, you too will get sick, be of no doubt about that.
young children in need of specialist attention in the classrooms are being denied this because there is not enough money for special needs assistants, well the moeny there is cannot be given over to this spending (why? is it not worthy enough, the next generation of our nation)?
Wheelchairs, disability pensions, personal assistants, home helps all cut back.
Lets put this plainly in common language for all to fully understand.
when my country is in economic crisis, the money to help us try to recover our cred economy is taken from the pockets of the least able to support this.
those at the top, the greasy pole top, the ones who decide who gets strapped, will not strap themselves.
nope, they do that to you and i and leave themselves out of it completely, yet they are complicit in bringing my humble little country to bankruptcy for you and i couldnt not have done that, we had no say and less money!
we have far less say now, because of them shits at the top.
excuse the lingo on this.
when i see suffering mates, i can call those who cause suffering every name in the book because suffering is suffering and there are few words to describe that, other than one - hell.
when people do this to vulnerable others then them people are not worthy for noble words at all.
and that is blunt.
shitzers abound the world right now.
its a worry too for the likes of me and many with disabilities, you do worry.
what will be cut next?
right now we have it up to our ears in worry. able bodied and less able bodied, but at least you can walk on happy feet if you are able.
if you are not, we have pain.
again.
and more and more and more.
now will all the sit-in's around Wall Street and Dame street make a difference?
doubt it.
really doubt it.
this is the stuff of democracy my friend.
and we have now discovered that democracy doesnt really work, its not very democratic, see.
but then neither was communism in any shape or form, so as the night grows longer here in my dribble, scribble, i have not solved the worlds difficulties, have i?
but i am worried. nonetheless, i am a worried woman and i am stating this in the name of worried women, men and chizlers in my grubby little country.
ah, i didn't name this country grubby!
another commentator has, and i grabbed the grubby about two years ago when said commentator said so!
Very shoddy indeed.
I have had my say - tonight...good night! sleep, if you can
i had known, yes i had indeed.
awnyah had not written up, comments, views, nor had an 'attitude'
so what does one do about all this?
she finds a place in brain and time to have this much loved 'attitude.'
a lot has happened indeed.
two friends have experienced very severe shocks indeed.
life events, trauma as they are known.
just yet my friend, i don't want these for myself but realize that persons' bodies and minds are but frail.
when can i know that one day i shall too receive a severe blow to this body or to this mind?
i will not.
What i do understand right now, increasingly, is how difficult too many people are finding it right now and it is shocking.
the difficult times we face, as i speak for 'little' people are not self-inflicted but sent our way via the greed pole, that my friends are the strong-er, the men, usually, at the top.
they are the ones in charge, or so we the little ones believe. Well, they tell us they are in charge...yep.
they are in charge of my money, your money, my life and your life.
greedy greedy seedy men and the odd woman thrown in and they have disabled us.
hook line and slinker sinker disabled us all.
we now have this around our bloody little necks until the day we die.
and what a burden.
it will be even more so for further disabled people.
here i speak of Disabled bodies, and the minds.
Lets give a few examples.
on the stats side i can say that ireland now has a mental health budget second to none, its the grand sum of 5% of total when before over ten/fifteen years ago it was 13% with this percentage now we are about the lowest in european spending to support the mental health of our nation.
i do not like this.
when we consider mental health so badly, not worthy of input we also engender this attitude on all, that those with mental health difficulties are not worthy of our cash and cash is in short supply.
All will experience a mental health crisis at least ONCE in our lives. what happens then if you need this care?
there is no money.
well, there is so little that what there is is not giving adequate help to our most vulnerable and needy and its perceived as either not a worthy enough cause or a waste of cash that our nation does not have.
Let us think of how little money there is in the pot for health now. mostly the health of again another tragically dependent and vulnerable group, the disabled man, woman and child in our country.
Our adaption grants have been frozen in some counties.
our 'one pair of shoes' a year has been stopped due to lack of cash, now consider this...we all have to use the feet!
and when the feet are not well, sick and deformed, well what do you expect us to put on them, especially when unwell, sick and unhappy feet need specialised care when chosing and fitting a pair of shoes or boots whatever?
will we go out now in bedroom slippers in the snow?
or freeze the nails off the toes by going without?
hard times indeed.
dark ages times indeed.
Lets see further....a freeze on consultant appointments, second lowest consultant numbers of neurologists in europe.
not enough rheumatologists and indeed not enough of any highly specialized expert in this nation. Remember, you too will get sick, be of no doubt about that.
young children in need of specialist attention in the classrooms are being denied this because there is not enough money for special needs assistants, well the moeny there is cannot be given over to this spending (why? is it not worthy enough, the next generation of our nation)?
Wheelchairs, disability pensions, personal assistants, home helps all cut back.
Lets put this plainly in common language for all to fully understand.
when my country is in economic crisis, the money to help us try to recover our cred economy is taken from the pockets of the least able to support this.
those at the top, the greasy pole top, the ones who decide who gets strapped, will not strap themselves.
nope, they do that to you and i and leave themselves out of it completely, yet they are complicit in bringing my humble little country to bankruptcy for you and i couldnt not have done that, we had no say and less money!
we have far less say now, because of them shits at the top.
excuse the lingo on this.
when i see suffering mates, i can call those who cause suffering every name in the book because suffering is suffering and there are few words to describe that, other than one - hell.
when people do this to vulnerable others then them people are not worthy for noble words at all.
and that is blunt.
shitzers abound the world right now.
its a worry too for the likes of me and many with disabilities, you do worry.
what will be cut next?
right now we have it up to our ears in worry. able bodied and less able bodied, but at least you can walk on happy feet if you are able.
if you are not, we have pain.
again.
and more and more and more.
now will all the sit-in's around Wall Street and Dame street make a difference?
doubt it.
really doubt it.
this is the stuff of democracy my friend.
and we have now discovered that democracy doesnt really work, its not very democratic, see.
but then neither was communism in any shape or form, so as the night grows longer here in my dribble, scribble, i have not solved the worlds difficulties, have i?
but i am worried. nonetheless, i am a worried woman and i am stating this in the name of worried women, men and chizlers in my grubby little country.
ah, i didn't name this country grubby!
another commentator has, and i grabbed the grubby about two years ago when said commentator said so!
Very shoddy indeed.
I have had my say - tonight...good night! sleep, if you can
Sunday, September 25, 2011
a thinkable scribble again say...
Yes, as i sit here listening to the washing machine whirr and watching my sis reading i am alone with the thoughts and the laptop.
the patio door is open, i look out into darkness, and wonder is it a worry to sit like this when i am in the East End of London, on a short trip?
will a short trip end or will someone else trip into the bolt hole i am in right now?
well, lets believe no one will do any tripping in and shortly i shall shut them doors, cos once the clock strikes a certain hour, one must not invite the trippers but stop em even feeling encouraged to trip under cover of darkness, and weakness...
now for the planned scribble and scribbling.
its about 'what is it about' and its about 'i want to be independent til the day i pop my clogs, no trippers welcomed here.
When i mean independent, many will wonder why i use such a word.
Independent is what most believe they are!
I believe i am.
i will be right in that, an all are when they believe they are independent.
so what exactly does this word mean...and in what context.
there are several grades of independence until you reach that grade that is 'dependent.'
the first being the total.
the total independent..as in young independents, married independents, and economic independents.
and then the grades either rise or get lower depending on the words and ways you would like.
my independence is 'under threat' that is, i have it in abundance, in my mind...and i have it in abundance in my ability as i see it.
what i dont have is the first grader of independence, that is the young, married and economically with-it independent.
I am just above that or below..all depends...i guess.
i need a bit of help..in being independent?
does that mean i aint inde?
i am inde..very much inde...
so what does it mean 'a bit of help?'
well the wealthy say they 'need a bit of help' and pay for it, so that they can enjoy a better 'quality' (debateable), but i say 'i need a bit of help' to enjoy life...defo inde in my view.
so please someone take away the strain that floors my body...not my mind and will i want to add... but the body.
my body like anyones is inclined to defect from its responsibilities to hold its owner upright in a fit and able manner.
so thats why i need help.
for the body is weak and the spirit is willing..to be independent.
so i get the help, but at a cost...to the state, actually.
why is this important?
for many reasons.
the society we have today demands of itself not to help many in their midst.
family structures are not as tight as they were, for individualism and materialism has joined all the other isms to create selfish..isms.
and they are many.
but when we say that the state gives help to a body falling apart it also has a rebound effect on society.
it upholds the law of averages.
that is, people get paid for being a helper, and so a job is created.
a job which is now a precious thing to have.
in this instance we have two helpers in the equasion, one is helping the other in paid employment and the other is helping the tudder to live. that is quality for two and each then cancels out the other.
neither are dependents.
this useful sort of thinking is vital. this is the thinking that has to be entertained.
and so if we bring this further, paid help for a body breaking up and down, releases others of responsibilities. it doesnt nor release them from the moral responsibility of caring for others, no. that goes without saying. goes without saying for this is the law of being human.
but the release being the burden on those who may be too heavily burdened to help much.
help a little yes, help much no.
if all understand the way this works, no one will feel the guilt that is there when you see a loved one breaking down and up and all ways.
its to understand.
when i say i want to be independent. this is a right.
the is a basic human right.
more and more, again in our wonderful enlightened society, people are being put away, under the guise of 'its for the best.'
that too, is debateable.
for whose 'best' we now have to consider.
when we put people away and shut them out of society we do something to society.
we defo down all the tools of moral responsibilty.
no human is meant to be shut out of the community for expediency.
all have a role to play no matter how small.
All will end up as a weakened body, a hurt body, a painful body. All go through this at levels i describe.
what do you want for yourselves. we have to ask this question.
is it that the children put you away as soon as possible and will you be angry, will you feel that its intolerable.
will you also feel depressed?
you will.
i have seen this too often.
i have seen and witnessed utter despair of abandonment in such places as homes for the elderly.
none are nice, with the best will in the world they are not nice.
the elderly know why they are there. to die.
be under no illusion.
the day you are brought in your fluffy slippers, in the car of your children to the gates of the 'nursing home,' is the day you cease to exist to all and sundry.
you are now entering the last level of life. that is just letting the body do what it does, disintegrate.
in the process nothing else is allowed do anything.
you cannot exercise your thoughts well, you are not heard.
you cannot participate in community and society, you are not let.
you are told to take the mashed potatoes and the laxative and let us 'take over' your 'care.'
and its for the best.
no its not.
its for the dying process.
I am independent and will remain so, in this process a young woman or other is putting food on the table, contributing to her society, she is getting a just wage for a good and just job.
she is helping another LIVE!
the patio door is open, i look out into darkness, and wonder is it a worry to sit like this when i am in the East End of London, on a short trip?
will a short trip end or will someone else trip into the bolt hole i am in right now?
well, lets believe no one will do any tripping in and shortly i shall shut them doors, cos once the clock strikes a certain hour, one must not invite the trippers but stop em even feeling encouraged to trip under cover of darkness, and weakness...
now for the planned scribble and scribbling.
its about 'what is it about' and its about 'i want to be independent til the day i pop my clogs, no trippers welcomed here.
When i mean independent, many will wonder why i use such a word.
Independent is what most believe they are!
I believe i am.
i will be right in that, an all are when they believe they are independent.
so what exactly does this word mean...and in what context.
there are several grades of independence until you reach that grade that is 'dependent.'
the first being the total.
the total independent..as in young independents, married independents, and economic independents.
and then the grades either rise or get lower depending on the words and ways you would like.
my independence is 'under threat' that is, i have it in abundance, in my mind...and i have it in abundance in my ability as i see it.
what i dont have is the first grader of independence, that is the young, married and economically with-it independent.
I am just above that or below..all depends...i guess.
i need a bit of help..in being independent?
does that mean i aint inde?
i am inde..very much inde...
so what does it mean 'a bit of help?'
well the wealthy say they 'need a bit of help' and pay for it, so that they can enjoy a better 'quality' (debateable), but i say 'i need a bit of help' to enjoy life...defo inde in my view.
so please someone take away the strain that floors my body...not my mind and will i want to add... but the body.
my body like anyones is inclined to defect from its responsibilities to hold its owner upright in a fit and able manner.
so thats why i need help.
for the body is weak and the spirit is willing..to be independent.
so i get the help, but at a cost...to the state, actually.
why is this important?
for many reasons.
the society we have today demands of itself not to help many in their midst.
family structures are not as tight as they were, for individualism and materialism has joined all the other isms to create selfish..isms.
and they are many.
but when we say that the state gives help to a body falling apart it also has a rebound effect on society.
it upholds the law of averages.
that is, people get paid for being a helper, and so a job is created.
a job which is now a precious thing to have.
in this instance we have two helpers in the equasion, one is helping the other in paid employment and the other is helping the tudder to live. that is quality for two and each then cancels out the other.
neither are dependents.
this useful sort of thinking is vital. this is the thinking that has to be entertained.
and so if we bring this further, paid help for a body breaking up and down, releases others of responsibilities. it doesnt nor release them from the moral responsibility of caring for others, no. that goes without saying. goes without saying for this is the law of being human.
but the release being the burden on those who may be too heavily burdened to help much.
help a little yes, help much no.
if all understand the way this works, no one will feel the guilt that is there when you see a loved one breaking down and up and all ways.
its to understand.
when i say i want to be independent. this is a right.
the is a basic human right.
more and more, again in our wonderful enlightened society, people are being put away, under the guise of 'its for the best.'
that too, is debateable.
for whose 'best' we now have to consider.
when we put people away and shut them out of society we do something to society.
we defo down all the tools of moral responsibilty.
no human is meant to be shut out of the community for expediency.
all have a role to play no matter how small.
All will end up as a weakened body, a hurt body, a painful body. All go through this at levels i describe.
what do you want for yourselves. we have to ask this question.
is it that the children put you away as soon as possible and will you be angry, will you feel that its intolerable.
will you also feel depressed?
you will.
i have seen this too often.
i have seen and witnessed utter despair of abandonment in such places as homes for the elderly.
none are nice, with the best will in the world they are not nice.
the elderly know why they are there. to die.
be under no illusion.
the day you are brought in your fluffy slippers, in the car of your children to the gates of the 'nursing home,' is the day you cease to exist to all and sundry.
you are now entering the last level of life. that is just letting the body do what it does, disintegrate.
in the process nothing else is allowed do anything.
you cannot exercise your thoughts well, you are not heard.
you cannot participate in community and society, you are not let.
you are told to take the mashed potatoes and the laxative and let us 'take over' your 'care.'
and its for the best.
no its not.
its for the dying process.
I am independent and will remain so, in this process a young woman or other is putting food on the table, contributing to her society, she is getting a just wage for a good and just job.
she is helping another LIVE!
Friday, September 23, 2011
well i am where the 'riots were!'
East London.
this is a good dollup of medicine i have to say, today.
we do the rich thing by going to the Lupus Centre and get the boot camp type run over by the medic there, then you get the medicine. East Hackney.
No surer place to put yourself in your place.
poverty here is reeking from the market stalls, is etched on the haggard faces of mostly the africans and the muslims around here.
young children have kids hanging out of them. that is teenagers now entering the adult role and world prematurely.
but then they do that at home as well. but here it just seems way beyond the odds that they will surmount the bloody agony of disadvantage, lack of resources and chances.
they now have a kid dependent on them. some will have this in the solitary capacity of the unwed, single mother.
you can see in the melee around here, how riots happened in the first place.
this is a melting pot for diversity but all disadvantaged.
this is not a place that the good lord major will chose to see, walk or stutt the stuff of these people.
this is not the place where they can even imagine.
i am more lowly they they and i couldnt have imagined this sort of living if i had not done a bit of strutting along the roads here.
forget it mate, when you whine the pain of middle class angst against the world.
there is no whining here, they is laughter and fun and colour and mess.
but the mess too is seen in the shabby clothing, no it isnt shabby chique, when i see this word what will it mean to me again?
it will not be the chique part, if i have spelt that right.
to stress out a fashion wear or furniture is not acceptable around here, for it reflects not recycling in the most honoured, it is reflecting recycling as a necessity, not for a green good earth goer
i am quite sick now of difference when i see it everywhere.
give me please a society that will honour its people with education and equal opportunity.
democracy has not provided that, so what will?
East London.
this is a good dollup of medicine i have to say, today.
we do the rich thing by going to the Lupus Centre and get the boot camp type run over by the medic there, then you get the medicine. East Hackney.
No surer place to put yourself in your place.
poverty here is reeking from the market stalls, is etched on the haggard faces of mostly the africans and the muslims around here.
young children have kids hanging out of them. that is teenagers now entering the adult role and world prematurely.
but then they do that at home as well. but here it just seems way beyond the odds that they will surmount the bloody agony of disadvantage, lack of resources and chances.
they now have a kid dependent on them. some will have this in the solitary capacity of the unwed, single mother.
you can see in the melee around here, how riots happened in the first place.
this is a melting pot for diversity but all disadvantaged.
this is not a place that the good lord major will chose to see, walk or stutt the stuff of these people.
this is not the place where they can even imagine.
i am more lowly they they and i couldnt have imagined this sort of living if i had not done a bit of strutting along the roads here.
forget it mate, when you whine the pain of middle class angst against the world.
there is no whining here, they is laughter and fun and colour and mess.
but the mess too is seen in the shabby clothing, no it isnt shabby chique, when i see this word what will it mean to me again?
it will not be the chique part, if i have spelt that right.
to stress out a fashion wear or furniture is not acceptable around here, for it reflects not recycling in the most honoured, it is reflecting recycling as a necessity, not for a green good earth goer
i am quite sick now of difference when i see it everywhere.
give me please a society that will honour its people with education and equal opportunity.
democracy has not provided that, so what will?
Friday, September 9, 2011
I had an interesting day at the office for sure.
almost two years of anxiety and involvement with the law enforcement agency in my little country of Ireland, played on my twin's and my mind.
I have never been accused of a criminal offense before and certainly never anticipated ending at the local court room for petty criminals and traffic offenders, alcoholics and causing an affray!
a certain little missie of a garda, who was shifted promptly to the midlands, who was reprimanded by the Garda Ombudsman decided she was going to have 'her day in court,' well not so.
she did a sickie on this one!
she neither supplied the court with prosecution documents to the defense which she was requested by the courts to do before now, before today. she evidently didnt get much support for her argument.
so on a warm autumn day my twin and i dressed in our finary turned up at the court room in our wheelchairs. (Do you know how hard a courtroom bench is)?
we were early and i rang the solicitor worried, had we turned up on wrong day and had i missed my day in court, to be slapped with penalty points and a fine, all for the lack of turning up!
no court started at 2pm so we were ok.
a large woman with a strange haircut passed us.
she was wearing a sort of trench coat like the tv soap detective, the little guy who shuffled around in a battered car, whats his name?
anyway she passed and asked "you ann?' i answered in the affirmative.
"dont worry" she said kindly, "the Garda has gone out sick she aint turning up!" she told us that the case would be dropped.
along came our solicitor, with the bat ears.
nice guy, friendly today, much refreshed after the month of august off, very refreshed and refreshingly pleasant.
we chatted there for all to see out side the local crim court, about my dad's golf ball approach from the tee off. we talked about his humour, his giving up cigarettes at 70 in order to stretch them legs around the course to whack the wee ball from tee to hole
funny game really.
anyway we then turned attention to our mother.
poor ma, she was a fantastic golf player, coming to the sport late in life she achieved the unthinkable. reaching handicap three in just as many years. and was passed over as too elderly for the womans international golf team, mum never forgot that.
of her personality she was summed up as singular and formidable.
the solicitor remarked that 'she took no prisoners' which she didnt and the fact that 'she didnt suffer fools lightly' which she didnt.
on leaving court with a clear driving license i remarked to my twin, that I TOO did not take prisoners and i would see this little madam in the courts again for the worry she had put me through.
words are inadequate for what she did to us.
i came home and stripped, took the teeth out and lay up on the swinger in the yard.
gud it was great to be a free woman!
one problem has bit the dust, and we move on to the next.
and there are very much nexts indeed, indeed.
we have to source a house, see if i can get grants to upgrade a 'possible' we are to see on tuesday.
i am trying also to have my social housing unit boarded up with its contents inside and be moved into a safer environment in the interim of moving away from this county.
how can it be expected of me to pay for the priviledge of bringing a hammer to the bed with me?
this is a question that has no answers it seems with the professionals.
i have an answer but it doesnt hold much sway.
i should not be expect either to bring a hammer to bed with me or pay for this and pay for trauma on a daily basis, in essence.
i pay to be intimidated and face problems with men who just dont seem to want me here and resent me.
posh accent, which i cannot eradicate and no, i dont have the money to follow this. i am as disadvantaged as they are, surely this is a fact they simply must know?
do flowers on a van make me a wealthier person?
an old tank of a commercial van with suspect origin and cranked up and down systems which is darn hard to drive for a person with muscle difficulties and pain.
i am not driving the latest plush by any means.
this goes i am snookered absolutely.
we then have great things happening on the national platform - we have a budget shortly, warned to be of a strong nature for us on the bottom, gud dont touch my disab pension nor that of the elderly.
do not touch my perks to get me through the winter in heating etc.
but of course they will touch em. they have done and will again.
those on the top of the economic divide has found no recession, there has not been one and a noted commentated fact.
then we have media out there now rooting out stuff in our social awareness and the way we threat more less able, the people 'put away' for convenience.
as in Mary Raftery's programme, 'behind these walls.' RTE tv.
not many responded to the shocking revelations, which also says a lot for the irish people,there wasnt exactly an outcry.
this has to be subject for debate within the university degree courses, on philosophy and psychology and also sociology for how can it be that not much of a squeak was made of the fact that we put away 21,000 of our own, behind grim high walls all for the reason of being different and for getting in the way of the farms and the inheritors of the farms.
does anyone understand the 'insulin coma' therapy lark?
yes, this is what i agreed to if i went into hospital as a voluntary patient.
read up on this scandelous practise, basically putting us into a diabetic coma, thinking that after a while comatose that once brought round, you would be cured of your malaise.
i never knew i was signing for coma therapy or ect if they wished to administer this.
you are usually in a mess at the doors of a psych hospital when 20 something and terrified of the world.
i had many times the wish "lock me away and get me out of here" attitude. i wish i was told that the world was not so frightening and 'i will help you lass, to learn to cope with the worst of it.'
but no, behaviour presentations of fears, anxiety and terror of another human person was equated with sort of lunacy, insanity or at least, just a tad bit wanting and psychologically challenged.
in a respect to them i probably was a bit challenged but i dont think with any stretch of the imagination that diabetic comas or blasting my head with electricity would make me any less terrified of people.
now as a response to be in the 'system' men and doctors are killer machines and i am terrified of ending in a hopsital now for stigma of mental illness in ireland remains very poor.
we still have to address major human rights negligence against us and them, the less accomplished in life, when it comes to brain function in the sphere of interactiong and interconnecting.
lets not wish it on another that they should be so challenged for sure.
i still believe i can be let die as considered delusional and malingering.
not so.
Life now is cutting edge to stay alive and enjoy the moment, the fact i never 'made it' in society or in economic terms is totally irrelevant.
the fact i tried to be part of it and ask for help is relevant to the way the health system works here.
dont get me started down that route.
my twin has noticed how weak the service providers are, how unwilling they are to step above their station to fight for the rights of their clients.
the feeling within them that they are unable to do this, outside their brief, and that is all up to their boss.
yep university graduates!
also a fact that stuff gets processed so slowly here and sometimes not at all.
the longer you wait and stall, you may think the client has forgotten and given up.
not this client!
'ah sorry, i have not been back to you,' says the social worker advocate, can she explain it.
nay, she made a phone call to someone, couldnt get her and just kinda let it all fall apart and didnt know what to do next so bail out for five months, thus leaving a client high and dry and she getting paid for that.
dispute over whether she was pregnant and about to produce a baby is also irrelevent for someone should have looked at the books for surely they would have found a paper file with my name on it and sourced the advocate, especially the one not pregnant.
no one told the non pregnant advocate that her client was looking for her.
she just had a different middle name initial from the pregnant one.
but also emails had been swinging to her email address and they were all ignored.
'sorry, i am sorry, i have no explanation for you.' was all she could mutter.
my explanation on this lassis is you jumped ship thats what!
you jumped out on this one my girl.
such is the irish professionalism. its grand to be the irish citizen.
but one thing the twin has noticed, we do talk to each other, we do converse, like leaping out of a parked car to admire the furballs one has in tow and mutter that they feel dogs are better than humans.
oh and chat on the high road of the school you went to, and she knew someone there, and did you know for fact that the Archbisop beside the school sent messages to the chief nun in our convent to remonstrate with our teachers for letting us do handstands thus exposing the knickers.
oh yes, he did, and how did he discover that we were exposing knickers?
well he had a telescope trained on the lawns of the convent grounds, how else.
oh and he also kept a jersey cow, whatever that has to do with it.
but he did keep a cow, it was a fine cow too, lovely eyes, gorgeous cow. really lovely lovely cow!
amen to that.
almost two years of anxiety and involvement with the law enforcement agency in my little country of Ireland, played on my twin's and my mind.
I have never been accused of a criminal offense before and certainly never anticipated ending at the local court room for petty criminals and traffic offenders, alcoholics and causing an affray!
a certain little missie of a garda, who was shifted promptly to the midlands, who was reprimanded by the Garda Ombudsman decided she was going to have 'her day in court,' well not so.
she did a sickie on this one!
she neither supplied the court with prosecution documents to the defense which she was requested by the courts to do before now, before today. she evidently didnt get much support for her argument.
so on a warm autumn day my twin and i dressed in our finary turned up at the court room in our wheelchairs. (Do you know how hard a courtroom bench is)?
we were early and i rang the solicitor worried, had we turned up on wrong day and had i missed my day in court, to be slapped with penalty points and a fine, all for the lack of turning up!
no court started at 2pm so we were ok.
a large woman with a strange haircut passed us.
she was wearing a sort of trench coat like the tv soap detective, the little guy who shuffled around in a battered car, whats his name?
anyway she passed and asked "you ann?' i answered in the affirmative.
"dont worry" she said kindly, "the Garda has gone out sick she aint turning up!" she told us that the case would be dropped.
along came our solicitor, with the bat ears.
nice guy, friendly today, much refreshed after the month of august off, very refreshed and refreshingly pleasant.
we chatted there for all to see out side the local crim court, about my dad's golf ball approach from the tee off. we talked about his humour, his giving up cigarettes at 70 in order to stretch them legs around the course to whack the wee ball from tee to hole
funny game really.
anyway we then turned attention to our mother.
poor ma, she was a fantastic golf player, coming to the sport late in life she achieved the unthinkable. reaching handicap three in just as many years. and was passed over as too elderly for the womans international golf team, mum never forgot that.
of her personality she was summed up as singular and formidable.
the solicitor remarked that 'she took no prisoners' which she didnt and the fact that 'she didnt suffer fools lightly' which she didnt.
on leaving court with a clear driving license i remarked to my twin, that I TOO did not take prisoners and i would see this little madam in the courts again for the worry she had put me through.
words are inadequate for what she did to us.
i came home and stripped, took the teeth out and lay up on the swinger in the yard.
gud it was great to be a free woman!
one problem has bit the dust, and we move on to the next.
and there are very much nexts indeed, indeed.
we have to source a house, see if i can get grants to upgrade a 'possible' we are to see on tuesday.
i am trying also to have my social housing unit boarded up with its contents inside and be moved into a safer environment in the interim of moving away from this county.
how can it be expected of me to pay for the priviledge of bringing a hammer to the bed with me?
this is a question that has no answers it seems with the professionals.
i have an answer but it doesnt hold much sway.
i should not be expect either to bring a hammer to bed with me or pay for this and pay for trauma on a daily basis, in essence.
i pay to be intimidated and face problems with men who just dont seem to want me here and resent me.
posh accent, which i cannot eradicate and no, i dont have the money to follow this. i am as disadvantaged as they are, surely this is a fact they simply must know?
do flowers on a van make me a wealthier person?
an old tank of a commercial van with suspect origin and cranked up and down systems which is darn hard to drive for a person with muscle difficulties and pain.
i am not driving the latest plush by any means.
this goes i am snookered absolutely.
we then have great things happening on the national platform - we have a budget shortly, warned to be of a strong nature for us on the bottom, gud dont touch my disab pension nor that of the elderly.
do not touch my perks to get me through the winter in heating etc.
but of course they will touch em. they have done and will again.
those on the top of the economic divide has found no recession, there has not been one and a noted commentated fact.
then we have media out there now rooting out stuff in our social awareness and the way we threat more less able, the people 'put away' for convenience.
as in Mary Raftery's programme, 'behind these walls.' RTE tv.
not many responded to the shocking revelations, which also says a lot for the irish people,there wasnt exactly an outcry.
this has to be subject for debate within the university degree courses, on philosophy and psychology and also sociology for how can it be that not much of a squeak was made of the fact that we put away 21,000 of our own, behind grim high walls all for the reason of being different and for getting in the way of the farms and the inheritors of the farms.
does anyone understand the 'insulin coma' therapy lark?
yes, this is what i agreed to if i went into hospital as a voluntary patient.
read up on this scandelous practise, basically putting us into a diabetic coma, thinking that after a while comatose that once brought round, you would be cured of your malaise.
i never knew i was signing for coma therapy or ect if they wished to administer this.
you are usually in a mess at the doors of a psych hospital when 20 something and terrified of the world.
i had many times the wish "lock me away and get me out of here" attitude. i wish i was told that the world was not so frightening and 'i will help you lass, to learn to cope with the worst of it.'
but no, behaviour presentations of fears, anxiety and terror of another human person was equated with sort of lunacy, insanity or at least, just a tad bit wanting and psychologically challenged.
in a respect to them i probably was a bit challenged but i dont think with any stretch of the imagination that diabetic comas or blasting my head with electricity would make me any less terrified of people.
now as a response to be in the 'system' men and doctors are killer machines and i am terrified of ending in a hopsital now for stigma of mental illness in ireland remains very poor.
we still have to address major human rights negligence against us and them, the less accomplished in life, when it comes to brain function in the sphere of interactiong and interconnecting.
lets not wish it on another that they should be so challenged for sure.
i still believe i can be let die as considered delusional and malingering.
not so.
Life now is cutting edge to stay alive and enjoy the moment, the fact i never 'made it' in society or in economic terms is totally irrelevant.
the fact i tried to be part of it and ask for help is relevant to the way the health system works here.
dont get me started down that route.
my twin has noticed how weak the service providers are, how unwilling they are to step above their station to fight for the rights of their clients.
the feeling within them that they are unable to do this, outside their brief, and that is all up to their boss.
yep university graduates!
also a fact that stuff gets processed so slowly here and sometimes not at all.
the longer you wait and stall, you may think the client has forgotten and given up.
not this client!
'ah sorry, i have not been back to you,' says the social worker advocate, can she explain it.
nay, she made a phone call to someone, couldnt get her and just kinda let it all fall apart and didnt know what to do next so bail out for five months, thus leaving a client high and dry and she getting paid for that.
dispute over whether she was pregnant and about to produce a baby is also irrelevent for someone should have looked at the books for surely they would have found a paper file with my name on it and sourced the advocate, especially the one not pregnant.
no one told the non pregnant advocate that her client was looking for her.
she just had a different middle name initial from the pregnant one.
but also emails had been swinging to her email address and they were all ignored.
'sorry, i am sorry, i have no explanation for you.' was all she could mutter.
my explanation on this lassis is you jumped ship thats what!
you jumped out on this one my girl.
such is the irish professionalism. its grand to be the irish citizen.
but one thing the twin has noticed, we do talk to each other, we do converse, like leaping out of a parked car to admire the furballs one has in tow and mutter that they feel dogs are better than humans.
oh and chat on the high road of the school you went to, and she knew someone there, and did you know for fact that the Archbisop beside the school sent messages to the chief nun in our convent to remonstrate with our teachers for letting us do handstands thus exposing the knickers.
oh yes, he did, and how did he discover that we were exposing knickers?
well he had a telescope trained on the lawns of the convent grounds, how else.
oh and he also kept a jersey cow, whatever that has to do with it.
but he did keep a cow, it was a fine cow too, lovely eyes, gorgeous cow. really lovely lovely cow!
amen to that.
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