tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8348227860840448292024-02-25T21:15:05.498+00:00CRISTOBELL UNDECIDEDI muse. Subversively.Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.comBlogger557125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-61641697353735368852024-01-11T20:06:00.003+00:002024-01-26T18:50:26.567+00:00YIKES, I CAN SMILE!<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-LdP9VyoQmcumCZmPaUSDfkS6gtQMb7QkdppHvA8gqGYgUBYy5x5H41LL2VEjtwBu_lQtC4Pt93T0t4LcqqzQ4xEIjr90NiY_NtNulpTA-MB5Au-tRtjCP6-5RoTPhtN-AlMb-SGaFdxkZN-u40j9qGS4I5Tl1JjvFVhPMCnYOu-Vcnflz85gPTUdMI/s1080/JOKE%20TEETH.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="983" data-original-width="1080" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-LdP9VyoQmcumCZmPaUSDfkS6gtQMb7QkdppHvA8gqGYgUBYy5x5H41LL2VEjtwBu_lQtC4Pt93T0t4LcqqzQ4xEIjr90NiY_NtNulpTA-MB5Au-tRtjCP6-5RoTPhtN-AlMb-SGaFdxkZN-u40j9qGS4I5Tl1JjvFVhPMCnYOu-Vcnflz85gPTUdMI/s320/JOKE%20TEETH.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>Please scroll down for Part II, I can smile</u></span><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Well hello to anyone out there who still pops in. Where have I been and am I well some of you may wonder. Well I am kind of ashamed to say that I have lost my passion for all things political and subversive, I live by the code 'it's beyond my control', those 4 words have for the last few years relieved me of much stress, anxiety and guilt. I have redirected all my control freakery on myself, down to listing every morsel that passes my lips and everything I do (and wear) every day in a diary - yes, I know I need help, but should add my rules don't apply to the Christmas bespoke Quality Street tin, which is sadly now running out - does anyone know where I can get coffee creams :(.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Which brings me nicely onto my main topic. I am about to lose all my top teeth! Eek! To be honest, I've had trouble with them for years, the once cute gap I had between my two front teeth has become a chasm and they have become so long I resemble a racehorse. I haven't worried too much, because if I keep my gob shut, I'm gorgeous, and as it turns out, keeping my gob shut has on occasion, been advantageous, who knew. Perhaps the bad teeth were the good Lord's way of shutting me up. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So what stopped me from seeking treatment before, 1. Fear and 2. I got thrown off the dentist's list for not going enough. Sadly I am the kind of person who pops painkillers and carries on until they need emergency surgery. This time I have done it sensibly, I have booked the appointments, I have attended the appointments. For the first appointment I sat in the waiting room reciting (in my head) the Charge of the Light Brigade. Cannons to the left of them, cannons to the right, into the valley of death rode the 600. Turned out not too bad! No blood, guts and screaming, just a bright pleasant room with a nice young man who couldn't have been kinder. 'And I bet you were given a puppy dog to cuddle' said SAS (Smart Arsed Son), he suspects his own dentist moonlights as a Deliveroo driver and does dentistry between orders using Google, he's very bitter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had already decided the teeth had to go. I haven't sunk my teeth into an apple in years. I have already adopted a diet of soft food, whilst I can salivate at the sight of a sirloin, the actual chomping of it is but a memory. I really don't know why I just wrote off certain foods instead of seeking help. I had just accepted my ongoing tooth problems, my restricted diet and the loss of my smile as just another symptom of old age, I had turned into a wuss! I think the good Lord intervened again via a new friend and excruciating pain. The good Lord gets a lot of mentions these days, I'm kind of hedging my bets on the afterlife front. Whilst Valhalla sounds like an exciting option, Limbo holds a lot of appeal. I picture a fun gathering standing around an outdoor heater, trying to shield from the rain and passing round spliffs and lighters. Oops that could be outside any pub where the smokers congregate. Either way, the boring bastards will be inside congratulating themselves and each other on what paragons of virtue they are. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But back to the teeth. I have been obsessed for the last week and a half, not just with my own teeth but with the teeth of everyone else so much so that Google actually told me I had seen everything. That's never happened before. I'm even looking up actors who are my age, are they wearing dentures? What were their teeth like 20 years ago, ahh not the same, even Janet Street-Porter has toned down her trademark goofiness. I have looked at hundreds, if not thousands, of before and afters, and in every case, the 'after' is significantly better - especially when you look up crack head teeth. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What I couldn't find were 'what I went through' articles on extraction, immediate dentures and the way in which you are engulfed in madness whilst facing the process. Even if I try to distract myself with an historic drama, I am immediately drawn to the teeth of every character - have to say remarkably good given the few options available from a medieval dentist. Another subject I will have to study during what I am going to call my 'teeth era'. I suspect dentistry wasn't really an option in the 16th century, a bad tooth could actually kill you. That fact alone was what got me off to the dentist finally. Though now I want to know if Henry VIII had bad teeth or indeed if the rich had worse teeth than the poor due to their sweet consumption? I like to think they did.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am vain. There I said it. My biggest fear, I am not going to look like myself. 'That's a good thing' says SAS, who is endlessly creative in finding new ways to take the pee. A few years ago I had one of those lightbulb moments where I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. 'Ooh' said I, 'I'm not as good looking as I thought I was'. 'Finally!' said he, exasperated that it took so long. But back to the teeth and the obsessions. Will my face drop? 'It's already dropped ya silly cow' says my inner Lily Savage. Tis true, most of my back teeth have been long gone and the cheek dropping has begun. I'm hoping the new choppers will provide some form of scaffolding. Will I lose my cute pout? It has become more prominent with the sticky out teeth, who needs lip fillers haha, but I presume it will follow the line of my new teeth. It is all this unknown that is driving me crackers. My biggest question, and I had to say it out loud to the dentist, was that they wouldn't get a replica of the horse teeth that were going. My nearest advisor (yes, SAS) said they would probably be made in a joke shop and I should ask for the wind up ones that chew for you. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well now that I have got most of the mental anxiety out of the way, back to reality. I eschew the fear of pain and discomfort, I have had that for years. I also know the absolute relief felt after having a painful tooth removed. The future is bright, I will be able to smile again and eat salad! All the after pictures I saw (a lot) were 100% improvement on the befores. I watched videos of kind people brave enough to share their own denture experiences. One of the most heart felt things I heard was from a woman who said that among the good things that have happened to her was being able to smile and she said, the more she smiled, the more the world smiled back. I can't wait to try it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For those who want the facts (I am terrible at those), week one, I received antibiotics to cure gum infection (worked within 2 days), week 2 teeth impressions, moulds made, week 3 (Tuesday coming yikes) extractions and immediate dentures. I wish I were brave enough to put up photos, something I will think about. I'd love to hear how others have got on with this, nothing beats personal experience where advice and reassurance is concerned, not to mention philosophy, there used to be a lot of that on here. Things like 'Aaah Grasshopper, if you worry about the future will the outcome be any different', random I know, but I am trying to find a chant for 'E' (extraction day), 'into the valley of death' is a bit grim. What I probably need to do is picture a host of golden daffodils and take some mind altering substances. I jest, though I may at some point before the final hour (if the mushrooms don't work) plead with my GP and or dentist for a sedative before they go in with the pliers.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>Yikes I Can Smile</b></u></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well I have been so deliriously happy I haven't been able to put pen to paper or should that be digits to keyboard, matters not, because I now feel compelled to come back and finish the story and to hopefully reassure anyone who has been or is now in the same boat. Firstly all the fears and terrors that had driven me crazy during the preceding weeks were unnecessary, except that they had put me into a 'Shackleton' 'I will do this' mode on the day. The in head chant I went with was 'it'll be over in a minute', I know it will never find it it's way into a book of quotes but it worked! On top of which I was looking up at a screen full of baby pandas playing with their handlers, the perfect soothing distraction! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yes the injections hurt and my chant came in handy. After that I never felt a thing. The new choppers were put in and I was good to go! I had a brief look whilst still in the dentist's chair but instead of being thrilled, it was more of a 'where's my pout?' Very vain I know, but for the rest of the day I had the look of one of those slobbery dogs who's chops hang down. Happily as the Novocaine wore off, I could smile, on the right hand side, the left was still hanging down and I feared I would have to live forevermore without a pout! A very dark future as you can imagine, how do people do it. As for the pain, swelling etc, it really wasn't so bad, I mostly just took panadol, sometimes tramadol, but by day 7 I didn't need anything. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I could finally smile on day one (about 12 hours later), I was delighted. For the first time in years I could grin like a Cheshire cat And I don't think I've stopped since! It feels so amazing to smile without being self conscious and without having to put my hands in front of my mouth. Why didn't I do it years ago? I ask myself, I know why but that's for another day. Right now, the world has become a brighter place. Because I smile so much, people are smiling right back at me, it's delightful. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">One of my biggest fears with a denture was that it would be too big for my mouth, I would gag, I wouldn't be able to bear keeping it in place. It actually turned out to be less that half the size I was expecting - see pic at top of page. Getting used to it was manageable, I was expecting discomfort, sore spots etc, etc, hardly any and it was very easily soothed, often just by rinsing it under a tap. I have never once felt I should take it out and give my gums a rest. I even leave it in if I have a daytime nap.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Talking I have to say has been hilarious, when you speak your tongue automatically touches the roof of your mouth, now my tongue touches a piece of plastic, so much of my speech is distorted. I also have a bit of a lisp and occasionally whistle, all of which just gives me the giggles, I am completely open about it and no-one seems to mind, mostly they laugh too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Eating has been and still is (I'm now on day 10) a challenge. I have been eating lots of cereal with warm milk, soups, ice creams, yoghurts and puddings. That is the kind of food I love anyway. I have been able to chew, sort of, for the past couple of days. I have found that if you hold a chocolate hobnob in hot tea for 10-15 seconds, it will melt in your mouth with only a few crumbs left to chew. I have become very resourceful. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I have found a new healthy respect for food. Each food group presents a challenge, but I am willing to go that extra 9 yards, to cut a milky way into 12 tiny pieces - it is so worth the effort. The need for solids becomes desperate, I even resorted to something I have looked down my nose on my entire life, I dipped my toast into my tea! And it was divine! I used Danish bread, the easiest to eat, and it was crisp and yet soft, wonderful. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Day 8 I discovered Cushion Grip. And like all the people I have watched on Youtube, I found it to be a gamechanger. I have Immediate Dentures, they are intended to be temporary because your gums will swell and change over the next few months. My eating problems are basically caused by the denture shifting when I attempt to chew. Not now haha! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I am living with my denture quite happily, I never take it out, from morning until night. I was determined I was going to make it work and that no-one, apart from a mortician would see me without my teeth. I am not looking on it as a chore, I just think of how wonderful if makes me feel being able to smile. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is strange how we can focus all our fears on the wrong things, even when we are old enough to know better. I'm not really scared of the dentist, I actually know that situations such as fear of sitting in a dentist's chair can be overcome with mind over matter. You can conquer your fears, anyone can. I think I had lazily fallen into using fear as an excuse. There really wasn't anything to be afraid of. I think the only pain at the dentists these days comes from the injections and they are over within seconds. I am of course playing the hero at the moment, delighting in telling anyone who will listen how I had all my teeth out (actually only 5) without being knocked out. Sadly they are not as impressed as I think they should be! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">But the best part of having it all done, apart from the smile, is freedom from the constant pain and the accompanying ill health. Also, I am so looking forward to enjoying all those foods I have had to avoid, like crusty bread and pizza and an apple. Happily cakes and puddings have always got through. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">If you are struggling with your teeth and wondering if you can live without them, then trust me the answer is absolutely yes, and it can be life changing. It is madness to live with pain and embarrassment, I see that now, doh! And I cannot tell you how great it is to throw your head back and laugh (thank you Cushion Grip) or even pull faces without looking like a gargoyle. I jest, though I have to say I have rediscovered the childlike joy of pulling faces, something I used to share with my giggly mum. My next instalment may come from a secure unit, if they allow me a pen.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_8186tmQZCUSgvbM85KRFS-RpcawguKX8XRMrhrR06sCNKalJ2NF3X4GEexVc-x2SNUubytdUyjEeUP7re1clzmbIs6S60kMJMrdh-vfDw3pDzFM0bU1VlQqwyeJT5LV0XwsrHsBDXMIUBuld9jFuR6x3UYSv8f_hFK0QTEp_KwpZno6gb53X0pX6fo/s2944/first%20new%20smile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2944" data-original-width="2208" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_8186tmQZCUSgvbM85KRFS-RpcawguKX8XRMrhrR06sCNKalJ2NF3X4GEexVc-x2SNUubytdUyjEeUP7re1clzmbIs6S60kMJMrdh-vfDw3pDzFM0bU1VlQqwyeJT5LV0XwsrHsBDXMIUBuld9jFuR6x3UYSv8f_hFK0QTEp_KwpZno6gb53X0pX6fo/s320/first%20new%20smile.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghzKfvaBzzL9cynpr7bO_VvjSS4jIsKvqWoGEnaDskAuOVHK6-h-8g3rfaoyaXD6Lxmxq2pQ3S2xwpDSAErsUmy4B5Ec3i9HIgzTNqZVHZmhqyPrGMGFLp0F5Grbc47ogw0cEaZeOP9cJ9xo3VVDJ6Mvy3n6H3etlgfN3lI5oWhtthvuRz1jCgX-eyoI4/s2944/good%20side%20view%20background%20changed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2944" data-original-width="2208" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghzKfvaBzzL9cynpr7bO_VvjSS4jIsKvqWoGEnaDskAuOVHK6-h-8g3rfaoyaXD6Lxmxq2pQ3S2xwpDSAErsUmy4B5Ec3i9HIgzTNqZVHZmhqyPrGMGFLp0F5Grbc47ogw0cEaZeOP9cJ9xo3VVDJ6Mvy3n6H3etlgfN3lI5oWhtthvuRz1jCgX-eyoI4/s320/good%20side%20view%20background%20changed.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimCvhc4ymTnNRv5pyVmHB1zLoIjZNLvghcVIciC4Ur6INetbLcUmLceW1H0s_I0-bwEnNmsJjHcdVVVyATMRGEupkUhz82oEhFwjMX3pOT1QGeRZBsCSwEFREysBjxtFtNVtdn6gHpqebmjaVvL0y8zgWFKoCqv6jRWri7noyQCt3Ie_W3Xgd4-eJ-rVI/s2944/new%20teet%20background%20changed.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2944" data-original-width="2208" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimCvhc4ymTnNRv5pyVmHB1zLoIjZNLvghcVIciC4Ur6INetbLcUmLceW1H0s_I0-bwEnNmsJjHcdVVVyATMRGEupkUhz82oEhFwjMX3pOT1QGeRZBsCSwEFREysBjxtFtNVtdn6gHpqebmjaVvL0y8zgWFKoCqv6jRWri7noyQCt3Ie_W3Xgd4-eJ-rVI/s320/new%20teet%20background%20changed.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p></div>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-16484135023123596812023-05-17T16:07:00.000+01:002023-05-17T16:07:27.285+01:00REPLIES (unedited)<p> Replies</p><p>Reply to Greg,</p><p>Hello Greg and apologies for the delay in replying. I have been ignoring my blog of late, not for any sinister reasons, my interests have shifted is all.</p><p>I did wonder how other kids saw we inmates lol. But it wasn't all hell, it was much like having lots of siblings, we were on the same side. Against the nuns ha ha. It was in the convent I learned the golden rule of 'you never grass (on each other)' and I have kept it as a moral code haha. </p><p>The nuns you named were indeed monsters, but as I age, I try to look on them a bit more kindly. They were products of their time and environments, indoctrinated rather than educated. Their chosen life was abnormal. I remember as a young teenager my hormones were going nuts, I was either passionately in love and deliriously happy or dying of unrequited love a la Cathy in Wuthering Heights. My social worker's notes had great expectations for my future, until aged 14, she noted 'sadly, Linda has discovered boys'. The idea of devoting my life to God and never flirting with the boy in the butchers again would have been unbearable. Does she have a point you are wondering? Yes, haha, those angry, bitter nuns, at a young (very hormonal age) rejected and supressed all those desires to live a life of poverty and, the big one, celibacy. Have you ever seen a nun flirt, we inmates did, often, and it was as cringey as it sounds. </p><p>I have realised over the years that the problem with St. Anne's children's home and indeed all children's homes was more to do with the moral code of the times and the existing old (prison like) institutions that had existed for decades, even centuries. The 'church' took care of society's orphans and abandoned children, the local authorities paid them. Even a cursory glance would suggest financial margins were much discussed (See <i>Oliver Twist, </i> Dickens). Imagine too, an unwritten acceptance that these children were the offspring of the undeserving poor, who, unless handled correctly, could grow up to be as wanton and feckless as their parents. Correction played a big part in the agenda. Kids placed in such care at a very early age can become institutionalised. Which sadly, accounts for many who go from children's homes to prisons. </p><p>What happened at St. Anne's probably happened all over the country, all over the world. The abuse meted out at St. Anne's was systematic of what happens when you put a bunch of religious fanatics in charge of vulnerable children. Or indeed any environment where any vulnerable child or adult is left in the care of a psychopath. In prisons, and indeed institutions, those in charge can and do display psychopathic behaviour. It's a fascinating and indeed troubling subject, especially if you accept that 10% of the population are psychopaths. </p><p>I am so sorry Greg, I wandered, even more these days than before, lol. Be assured Greg I have found happiness, do take care and thank you for your kindness.</p><p><br /></p><p>Reply to Bjorn</p><p>Hi Bjorn, I am afraid I have rather abandoned my blog of late and have only just seen your comments. I am afraid I got completely carried away with the pomp and pageantry. Bizarre, because I have never been a monarchist or royalist in my life. In fact, I once proudly declared myself as a marxist/feminist around the time I graduated, as you do, haha. I am still a Jeremy Corbyn Leftie, but old age and my love of history made the coronation quite an event for me. I now understand how people become more royalist as they age. I think it is because we equate royal lives with our own. That is we know who we were married to and where we were with each royal wedding and baby. I know a pathetic excuse to support a multibillion pound firm.</p><p>I think we should definitely have a debate of free speech Bjorn. I think it was a bit off to arrest those yellow shirted placard carriers before they even got out of their van! I don't think there was much protest, or if there was, it wasn't covered.</p><p>As for Harry and Meghan. I feel an awful cringing embarrassment for Harry. Everything he has foolishly said he will have to standby. A lifetime of 'I gave up everything for you', from her. As for her winning a feminist award, now I have seen everything. She married a Prince. So apparently that is what little girls aspire to, I m sure Gloria Steinem was much impressed. Virginia Woolf and Shakespeare's Sister, not so much. Actually, to be fair most of today's feminists make me want to scream and scream until I'm sick. I forgive GS, she is almost 90 and being love bombed. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-33083147501155440182023-04-06T18:19:00.000+01:002023-04-06T18:19:56.831+01:00WHY MY PASSPORT PIC WAS REJECTED<p><span style="font-size: large;">Well that's it, I have finally done it. I have applied for a passport after so many years. Where am I going? Who knows? Wherever lastminute.com takes me, ha ha. I jest, (or do I?) I have only recently discovered, via letter through the door, that I am to be a pensioner! Whilst I am delighted to be getting there (look at the alternative), I am somewhat astonished, given my previous life of drunkenness, partying and debauchery. Feel I should check literal meaning of debauchery, but what ho. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Naturally I didn't party all the time (although I would have liked to), I simply followed the advice I read in Joan Collins' autobiography many moons ago. She was a big star at the time and much admired for her youthful looks (being over 40). Partying she said was her secret, she went out, she glammed up, by comparison, her settled down, respectable friends were getting old before their time. I liked that, though it was probably because it suited my life choices at the time. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But back to that passport. What I took from Miss Collins' book was the 'glam' bit. That has always stayed with me. Especially the makeup. My first, and arguably favourite job, was working on the makeup counter in Woolworths. If I could only rescue one thing in a fire, it would be 'fek the passport, where's my makeup bag'. I think the same would apply if half the world turned into zombies, what do you grab? A gun? lipstick? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But the passport. Naturally, the picture mean't a lot. Actually, everything, if I'd had a passport, I would have had a trip to Turkey for a face lift before getting a passport! Doh! I jest I wouldn't have gone that far, but I did bust out the Charlotte Tilbury. And I took a lot, a lot, of selfies. Taking a picture of a 65 (almost 66) year old face san jowls, wrinkles and age spots is a difficult (but not impossible) task. I then used an 'App' to make my chosen (very flattering imo, a bit Audrey Hepburn) pic passport ready. Sadly, today it was rejected! And I am hurt, I always take these things personally. I could point out why it was rejected, but for a bit a fun I will put it up here to see if the eagle eyed can spot what went wrong. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMUAPeA1NoCVH6M1P6LxUQN-FNw6dRfzzImM8nWB64D3xSWek34Dc5MGo-g0Wh4_aFtZvu7lK42t2lQP82_7yQ_KnrX9aCiOTjDwH3v4WhlQqmbMiCFNi1pweduJS3rAm6pWEGqVfOhh7_gqpo90LBZDh1tsu9nEZFAFF_wzliWDRvqgmSs-uPkEo/s1063/official%20passport%20pic.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="827" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXMUAPeA1NoCVH6M1P6LxUQN-FNw6dRfzzImM8nWB64D3xSWek34Dc5MGo-g0Wh4_aFtZvu7lK42t2lQP82_7yQ_KnrX9aCiOTjDwH3v4WhlQqmbMiCFNi1pweduJS3rAm6pWEGqVfOhh7_gqpo90LBZDh1tsu9nEZFAFF_wzliWDRvqgmSs-uPkEo/s320/official%20passport%20pic.jpeg" width="249" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My next, not nearly so nice, pic has now been submitted, but I'm not publishing that! Why do official pics always make you look like a resident of a gulag? Yes, dear reader, there are jowls, and even bags. It's hideous! Sadly, at this stage of life with every pic, I am always thinking 'what's going to go on the tombstone'? Please don't let it be that one. My love to all who have taken a minute to pop in, take care.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-38565941745749639222023-01-09T15:00:00.004+00:002023-01-10T00:53:37.823+00:00THE HARRY AND MEGHAN SAGA - a subversive view<p><span style="font-size: large;">The Harry/Meghan saga. I can keep my trap shut no longer! Meghan is of course a she devil, the cavalier (love that word) discarding of her sick father who doted on her, her entire life, is proof of that. So too the dumping of her family and friends who didn't fit in with her new 'Princess' life. She is the epitome of narcissism, she does not have one scintilla of empathy, least of all towards the poor sop who married her. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Post shit hitting the fan, via the early release of Harry's book in Spain and as the dust begins to settle, commentators are asking, in earnest, whether Harry has anyone close left to advise him. Someone who cared about him enough to stop him publishing the cringey, toe-curling details that will ensure he has the pee taken out of him for the rest of his life. No man, especially not a 'vet', calls what they wear around their neck, probably a chain, a necklace. Naturally, pictures of Harry dressed as the Queen in pearls went up immediately. And that was just the beginning. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As someone who has written a memoir, there are crucial things to bear in mind before you begin. The first, honesty and integrity. Words matter and the written word lasts forever. Whilst it is an easy way to get revenge, it is more honourable to take the compassionate ground, to question why, in hindsight, did that person act that way. To step in their shoes for a moment. And, as my beloved father drummed into me from childhood, 'don't hurt someone just because you can'. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Memoirs, of the misery variety, which Harry's is, have an expectation of, well, err, misery, which is where I went wrong on the book sales front. I had found, while digging through the memory banks, that I had a much happier childhood than I realised. There was no way I was going to portray my wonderfully unique, beloved father and mother as ignorant, feckless or, heaven forbid, cruel. I even eased up a little on the actually cruel nun and 'uncle' who ran our children's home like a gulag. They were products of their time, their backgrounds, their own indoctrination. For me, writing a memoir was a huge learning curve, in a good way, I found out that digging up things that make you feel bad is fecking crazy, digging up things that make you feel good, is a much better route to enlightenment and contentment. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Revealing your deepest, darkest, secrets in writing, or even in therapy will haunt you forever more. Save those for drunken sessions with friends who will never use them against you. Friends who will never say, 'yar, publish that for the whole world to see, especially the tale of the necklace, the frostbitten dick and the 25 Taliban you killed'. No-one who liked him would ever say that. Anyone who liked him would have told him that he was handing the media and social media a huge artillery of weapons to use against him. What a shame he didn't have his family, his friends and all those courtiers around to advise him. H</span><span>aving had a book published by Random House, I don't know how these awful indiscretions got past his editors and legal readings. But they are paid by Random House, ditto, his agent and indeed himself. It is the juicy bits that will bump up the sales. It appears the 'you will be a laughing stock' talk never happened. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, I think Meghan had a big, spiteful, hand in the writing of Harry's book. I know how intense the book writing process is, especially if you have someone else reading and commenting on what you (or your ghostwriter) have written. Meghan, the eternal English O-level student, would have encouraged him to reveal every tiny graphic, detail he could remember from his upbringing. Especially, drawing, as much as possible, on his late, lamented mother, there is still much cashing in to do in her name. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I suspect the hand of Meghan because men don't generally attack other men for their looks with bitchy balding comments, nor do they refer to their neckwear as a necklace. That's more mean girls than two brothers. But I can't blame Meghan entirely. As much fun as Harry was, he always had a chip on his shoulder with regard to the press. And, now we know, with his position in the family as 'spare'. His girlfriends also kept dumping him. From a romantic perspective, the planets were aligned for the meeting of Harry and Meghan, or from a jungle perspective, an alpha lioness spotted a limping gazelle trying to keep up with the herd. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">From all I have read and seen, I'm afraid I do see Meghan as a predator. She came to England specifically to find status and a rich husband, and with Harry she struck gold. Money and a title! Harry's negative traits of self entitlement, and self pity that drove away previous girlfriends (I'm guessing, that and throwing crockery at servants) had the opposite effect on Meghan, not only did she have the same character defects, she admired them! Nay, cultured and encouraged them. 'Everything that makes you feel really bad about yourself H, just focus on that'. A bit like his grandaddy going along to Madame Luncheon Voucher for a good thrashing (allegedly). Sorry about that. Such salacious gossip has no place here, added just for the coffee spilling moment. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">From a psychological perspective I don't know if there is any link between emotional battering and 10 physical lashes with a cane at public school. The 'Madame Luncheon Voucher' affair, where most of the clientele turned out to be ex public schoolboys would suggest there is. In any event, what Meghan did to Harry is eerily similar to what controlling narcissistic men to their (usually) battered wives. That is they love bomb them and isolate them until they have absolute power and their victim has no-one to turn to but them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Sadly for Harry, the man he has become is a shell of the man he once was. It's as if all the joy and humanity has been sucked out of him. He doesn't even know the difference between right and wrong anymore, let alone good taste, bad taste. He is living in a large mansion in California, not his dream, he wanted to live incognito in Africa. He also wanted what his brother had, a wife like Kate and</span><span> a big family to meet up with for summer and Christmas holidays, a large country estate, polo chums, shooting weekends, bowing and deference from all around him. Instead he ended up with his wife's 'Hollywood Wives' dream, of being fabulously wealthy and hanging out with the rich and famous. The nouveau riche rather than the old families of the landed gentry. And in California, he is no longer a big fish in a small pond, now he is competing in a ruthless industry, where being a Prince doesn't top talent and hard work. As yet, he and Meghan have exhibited no discernible talent. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly for Prince Harry, once Meghan had him in her sights, there was no escape for him. She used every trick from 'the nasty girl's guide to ensnaring a dim witted aristocrat'. Portraying herself as intelligent (she watched every episode of Jeopardy), a gourmet (she can name popular foreign foods), she is beautiful (she was a suitcase girl on Deal or No Deal), She is a feminist (she hated it). Her biggest hook for Harry however, was her idolatry of his poor departed mother. A woman with 'powers' brought back the spirit of Diana to assure H&M they were on the right path. And then Harry takes Meghan out to Diana's grave on the tiny private island on the Althorp Estate, where she laid her hand on Diana's headstone to connect with her. Dear Lord yes, the big eejit recounts that, frankly creepy visit by the pair of them to his mother's grave. Clearly nothing is sacred, unless you count Meghan who was blessed by the spirit of Diana. Perhaps they can reignite that spirit with a world tour, once more bringing the spirit of Diana to the masses. Think ticket sales and merchandise. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I haven't yet seen Harry's pre book release interviews, they are airing tonight, but it will truly be a struggle to watch them. Harry is the victim of a narcissist. He has narcissistic traits himself which probably drew him to her, but of the two, she is the dominant control freak. She believes she can, through Harry, be invited back into the Windsor hierarchy on her terms. I'm guessing a castle bigger than his brother's, apartments in London and New York, her pick of the Crown jewels, shedloads of dosch and a fleet of servants. She is delusional of course, the monarchy have fought off (sometimes physically) the challenges of second sons and foreign she wolves for centuries. The pair should be grateful they haven't been dragged off to the Tower and drowned in a vat of wine of their own choosing, the fate of one unfortunate second son. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This won't of course blow over, it will be etched in history forever more, but it will fade away just like the Princess Diana and Paul Burrell books. If Meghan truly was as intelligent as she thinks she is, she would have known that that the rest of the world and the USA especially are no longer in awe of crowns and titles. The Duke of Windsor, formerly Edward VIII, did not become the popular global star his wife Wallace may have imagined. After the initial furore of his abdication, he lived in semi obscurity in Paris. Sarah Ferguson, who revelled in her Duchess of York title was fortunate to enjoy the tail end of the US's love of British Royalty. Diana may have toyed with the idea of moving to the US but I suspect Buckingham Palace moved heaven and earth to ensure she stayed in the UK. For her divorce settlement Diana got £17 million and £400,000 a year while Sarah got £15,000 a year. A vast difference between the two, explained by Sarah being in the pay of Weightwatchers. BP probably threw their hands in the air in horror at the thought of the mother of the future heir being in the pay of corporate America. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Anyway, I will watch the Harry interviews, or at least try to. I find at my age I am very discerning about how I spend my precious time, my guard is set to zero for negativity and whining. And should mention, I found the Harry and Meghan docuseries boring. Listening to people telling you how wonderful they are is an absolute turnoff. And here they break that other golden rule of writing. Do not preach. Readers hate it, they don't want to be told they need to go through the same brainwashing process as the writer in order to be fulfilled. And if you are going for the 'look at me now' finale, you better be living the dream. </span>Harry preluded his book announcement with 'not the prince I was born, but the man I have become' as if his journey and transition were a resounding success, when we can see by his pallid, miserable face, that it clearly wasn't. He doesn't look or act like a man living his dreams. Hollywood people are not his people. They don't go out stalking and shooting deer, they don't hold banquets, they don't have Presidents coming to dinner and only on special occasions are red carpets rolled out for them. All the deference Harry received as a Prince of England. Now he is a non-working Royal, which sounds almost as insulting as undeserving poor. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Could you imagine Harry at a cocktail party or a meet and greet, being approached by a non resident Russian Oligarch with a few billion to launder. 'Sorry, can't do it old chap, I'm non-working'. That's not to say the working side could or should, but that's a whole other nest of hornets. Sadly, Harry, as a man (common) that he has become, is finding out that his days of hobnobbing with world leaders and billionaires are behind him. Not only does he probably not get the invites anymore, but no-one admires a man who can betray his own brother. He ditched his family and his birthright as cruelly as Meghan ditched her father and family. That's why I don't like them. If they can be so disloyal and despicable (behind closed doors) to the families who loved them, their public philanthropy and charity is phoney, in my opinion.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So how did Meghan hook Harry. Meghan follows the philosophy of 'The Secret'*. That is she has unleashed the power (that we all have) to achieve her goals and desires. Successful people will tell you to imagine, picture yourself, in the place you want to be and you will get there. Sounds fanciful, but it works. I will give an example. I once coveted a brand new Rover car displayed in our local High Street. I use the word covet because that was how I felt, I was obsessed with it. The problem was there was no way I could ever own one, but I did. I made it happen. Within a couple of years that mental image I had created of myself merrily driving a brand new shiny Rover became reality. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The 'secret' is not such a great secret. Most people who use it's powers and techniques are not even aware of it, some might call it ambition. Once you decide what it is you want, you become hyper vigilant to ways, means and opportunities to get it. You pick up on them because you have your eye on the goal. As I say, we all have that power if we choose to use it. But if we live and breathe that go-getting philosophy we embark on a nerve-racking roller coaster. How far will we go to achieve our goals? Are we prepared to be ruthless, to hurt others, at what point do we say, it's not worth it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Happily most people are happy with a shiny new car or a semi-detached in the suburbs, others want world domination like Putin, Trump and Meghan Markle. They keep their eye on the goal but they want to punish others along the way. 'Look at me now', is not enough, their enemies must suffer. See every tyrant and despot throughout history. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>I feel bad now for portraying the philosophy of 'The Secret' as a bad thing. It isn't. Most people apply it with morality and reason, they are not aiming for world domination. To be fair, I am not sure Meghan is either. Right now she is going for iconic status as a humanitarian/feminist/activist/celebrity, she has given up on the acting. </span>Dare I say it, she is unfocused. She is torn between battling for that Princess status, the castles, the jewels etc, continuing with her bland, non controversial, non subversive, podcast opinions on subjects no cares about, or, step over that great big red line and criticise US gun laws, stand up for abortion rights (Roe v. Wade), question the motives of the religious far right. She and H live in America now, they are the laws they have to live under. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Meghan describes herself as an activist but she doesn't lend her voice where activism is needed. She visited the tragic scene of the Uvalde mass shooting, but she did not speak out about the crazy gun laws in the US that allowed this to happen. That would have given her all the front pages she wanted. She could have gone on 'The View' and all the late night talk shows. Why didn't she? (1)she doesn't know enough to discuss the subject, (2)she still abides by the Royal rule of no politics. I think (2) would result in the immediate loss of her Duchess title. You can see her conundrum. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, I do not think the future bodes well for Harry. In this Disney movie, it is the Prince locked in the tower and loving it. 'Harold, lower your hair' shouts Prince Willy from below. 'I can't, I haven't got any' then 'no you fiend, let go of my necklace', a sorry saga indeed. It's like the man in the iron mask, saying 'no, I'm good, leave me here for another 2 decades'. Harry's mask is his beard, his casual California chic, his weird, woke BLM personality spewing out platitudes that brought to my mind that 1970's 'I'd like to buy the world a coke' ad, where all dress like hippies and link arms. Now all those hippies wear suits and work for large (and often gun selling) corporations. Such is life. When Harry cuts his hair and discards his bellbottoms, there won't be much to go back to. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I could go on, but I will spare you dear reader, especially if you have made it this far. My kindest wishes to all.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">*https://www.amazon.co.uk/Secret-Rhonda-Byrne/dp/1847370292/ref=asc_df_1847370292/?tag=googshopuk-21&linkCode=df0&hvadid=310805565966&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=10138006440210790575&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9044987&hvtargid=pla-318206917580&psc=1&th=1&psc=1</span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-17348584027734723602023-01-04T14:05:00.002+00:002023-01-04T14:13:37.611+00:00HAPPY NEW YEAR AND A FREE FUN WAY TO LOSE WEIGHT<p><span style="font-size: large;">Several years ago I self published a book called the 'The Reluctant Dieter', sadly it was not a success commercially, but I am delighted to say that it was a success for those who read it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I wrote the book because I had (in a New Year) decided to take control of my health and weight. Within 3 months, I lost 3 stone! Was it unhealthy? Well err no, on asking my GP, he replied with a big smile, no, carry on with what you are doing! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My diet book is unlike any diet book you have ever read. It's real, it's honest, it's like having a giggly chat with your mates, I don't preach and I don't pontificate, I'm all about finding short cuts and lazy options. In my opinion, if something is difficult or means denying yourself everything you enjoy, you will give up. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Having been a yoyo dieter my entire adult life, I decided to devise my own diet and exercise routine. I didn't buy expensive health foods. I didn't go the gym or the swimming pool, I did the Jane Fonda warm up routine and danced (like no-one was watching) to 80's disco hits in the privacy of my bedroom. And I walked every day, inspired by Stephen Fry who put his own amazing weight loss down to walking, though I hasten to add, I didn't walk nearly as much as he. Best of all I carried on enjoying the food I love, just not so much of it! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now, several years later, I am pleased to say that the lifestyle changes I made then have stayed with me, though I now allow myself 1500 calories rather than 1,000, a day to maintain my current weight, and the Jane Fonda tape would kill me. I jest, these days I just walk. Fifteen hundred calories may sound meagre, but I actually eat whatever I want. If you are eating 5-7 portions of fruit and veg per day, which I recommend, you have little room left for the junk.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, I hope this lands with a little bit of cheer for the New Year, especially if you are looking for an easy way to lose weight and get healthier. I am not sure how it all works but it looks as though it is free on Kindle, and I hope readers take it up. Even if you don't get healthy, it's a fun read and some of the tips may stick - see reviews. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, Happy New Year everyone, and my kindest wishes to all.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p>https://www.amazon.co.uk/RELUCTANT-DIETERS-GUIDE-HEALTH-WEIGHT-ebook/product-reviews/B00RNV3PC4/ref=cm_cr_dp_d_show_all_btm?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews</p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-11993492269774164942022-09-17T19:00:00.000+01:002022-09-17T19:00:35.706+01:00LETTER TO THE FUTURE - THE WEEK THE QUEEN DIED<p> <span style="font-size: large;">I had an idea a couple of weeks ago, to write a letter, or journal recounting the evets of our time, a bit like Samuel Pepys, though I get my information from the news I see and read on social media. Twitter, for keeping up to date and Youtube for the same reason, but also for all the wonderful documentaries and charismatic vloggers and all their interesting niche subjects. 2022 is indeed the age of information, especially for my generation who's idea of a mobile phone was two rusty cans and a piece of string. Our first home phone was a party line shared with neighbours we were at war with, not helped by the fact that I was a young teenager who needed to spend at least 8 hours a day chatting to my mates.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I abandoned my first letter to the future a couple of weeks ago. It was full of doom and gloom as the soothsayer in me predicted all sorts of Walking Dead situations in the weeks and months to come. We have already lived through one plague and I suspect more are on their way. But to be fair I was morose at the time and I had recently watched Prince of Egypt. Ok, maybe not a WD situation, but certainly we are experiencing the rumblings of a revolution. Without going all preachy again, the greed of the billionaires will force millions in the UK into food and energy poverty. Something that should be unheard of this 21st century. As in the French Revolution of 1789 and the Russian Revolution of 1917, something's got to give.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I will stop from that political vein before I start throwing rotten tomatoes at myself. This week has been ultra dramatic. The old Queen, Queen Elizabeth II, who has been on the throne for 70 years has passed away! It's the biggest news since Princess Diana. QE11's son has instantly become King Charles III, lots of people are remembering their history lessons and saying The Queen is Dead, Long Live the King, in the same breath I believe. A precaution previous monarchs had to take in case some upstart from another branch of the family decided to ride in with an army and steal the throne. The Normandy branch were known for it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Suffice to say the throne of Great Britain is pretty secure. Heirs and spares all over the place. Princess Diana secured the throne and kept her head, by giving Prince Charles two sons, and his sons have sons. Now I am not particularly a monarchist, though maybe I am because I have always had an intense interest in the Royal family. I think it started with Diana because I loved the clothes she wore and tutting at the mistakes she made. Ditto Fergie, the Duchess of York, not because she couldn't wear haute couture but because she reminded me of my schooldays and those bossy, lumbering jolly hockeysticks types who did not share my love of a ciggy behind the bike sheds and talking about boys. Oddly enough, in later life, those 'types' became great pals of mine, always good for a craic.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I heard the news, well actually I was watching it all day, I had feelings of shock, and indeed sorrow, that I never expected to feel. I have joked about this moment for years, well complained that she would probably outlive me, never thinking it would come. I kind of felt sorry for Prince Charles, because he has spent a life in waiting and that is probably how history will remember him. To his credit, in these days of mourning he has done a whistlestop tour of the United Kingdom and attended non stop church and cathedral services. Actually the whole of the Royal Family have been very much on show, including Prince Harry and Meghan (more on which later). The age old pomp, ceremony and pageantry are very much to the forefront at this time, reminding us of the long lineage of our rulers. I am actually quite proud of it all, the UK is putting on an amazing spectacle for the world, a reminder of not only our past, but theirs too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I wanted to tell you what it feels like at this time. It compares I think to the madness that took over the UK in September 1997 when Princess Diana was killed in a car crash in Paris. The country was in shock, probably more so than now because Diana was only 36. The feeling now is more that it is the end of an era, a very long era. Most of us have not known any other monarch, Queen Elizabeth had been on the throne our entire lives. No matter what our feelings towards the Monarchy and all the sycophancy that surrounds it, it is impossible to be untouched at this time. We are caught in a moment of history. We have lived through and are at the end of the second Elizabethan age. Historians of the future will look back at the week of September 2022, and they will mark 1952-2022, the rule of Queen Elizabeth as a time of what? Great change, democracy, fairness and equality? Debateable. We still have a huge divide between rich and poor, bigger I would say than during the Victorian Age. Some would argue that the monarch has no say in the way in which the country is run. But I disagree. The Queen is often recited as being wise, informed and diplomatic, her experience is legendary, meeting 15 Prime Ministers and virtually every world leader. She could, for example, have told Liz Truss (new PM) not to allow her people to freeze and/or starve to death this coming winter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But tut tut to myself here, I did not mean to criticise at this time. I've actually grown quite fond of the Royal Family in recent years, I especially love the birthday pictures of the little ones taken by their mum Princess Catherine. My whole perspective changed when I saw the then very elderly Queen visit a hospital in Manchester caring for the young victims of a devastating bomb at a Ariana Grande pop concert. The effect this sweet old lady had on the patients and nurses was miraculous. It was at that moment 'I got it'. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Whilst I hate to end this missive on a sour note, the well oiled Royal PR machine failed to take into account the human factor, that is a very pampered, grumpy, 73 year old man surrounded by servants and sycophants who do literally everything for him! From putting toothpaste on his toothbrush to ironing his shoelaces. I also hear his staff have to cook six boiled eggs for his breakfast to ensure he gets the correct consistency. I can't help thinking that in order to live that kind of life, one, hmm, would have to enjoy demeaning others because that's how the whole Master/Servant thing works.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">OK, so he's a dinosaur, a relic from a bygone age, but the whole bottom teeth baring at lackies and temper tantrums, yes plural, was shocking. I am referring to King Charles III's inability to operate a fountain pen or move an inkwell on his own. In the words of Mya Angelou, 'when someone shows you who they are, believe them', I now suspect the purveyor of the dodgy fountain pens has now been dragged off to the Tower!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I should before I go, mention the dissent among the masses. And there is some. A bit of booing here and there, and few signs demanding the abolition of the Monarchy and 'Not my King'. It is stamped out immediately with offenders being marched off in handcuffs. There is a real clampdown on any signs of dissent, it's almost as if the entire establishment are insisting we all mourn and we all cheer the new King. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I suppose those looking back at these times will consider just how stable the monarchy is at the end of a long reign. While republicans might have put up with the Queen due to her longevity and distance from our lives, a new King might upset the status quo. Maybe that is why all the Windsors are out and about meeting the ordinary people. King Charles needs to capture that goodwill the Queen had enjoyed, he and his heirs need it if the Monarchy is to survive. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I really will say ttfn (ta ta for now). There is a big week ahead with lots more ceremony and pageant to come. It will be the biggest gathering of world leaders, well, ever. Which begs the question, how does an Emperor greet a King? Who bows first? I mention this because the Emperor of Japan, Emperor Naruhito is among the world leaders attending and of course the President of the USA, Joe Biden. I'll give a full list of attendees in my next instalment. For now, just those two names send a shiver down my spine and I feel quite chuffed on behalf of the Queen and her family that the world treated her with such respect. My kindest wishes to any reader who has got this far - take care.</span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-7052262596563559002022-07-01T15:29:00.001+01:002022-07-06T13:16:45.665+01:00BEING OVER 60 ISN'T SO BAD<p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>A year ago I was singing 'will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 64'. This year I am feeling even more trepidation as I approach 65. I was filled with the hebee jeebies when reaching Sixty because that I would say, is definitely the turning point, when you go from middle aged to just plain old. Sixty five is when you start to shrink away, both literally and figuratively, I have lost both height and weight and I think an invisible veil is starting to engulf me in. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I can't say I have ever thought about what I would be like as an old person, I knew I would never be a regular little old lady with a cauliflower perm, a battered old purse and a shopping trolley, but yeah, ha ha, I am. Except for the cauliflower perm. But with the addition of a magnifying glass, because I cannot read food labels. when Smart Arsed Son first saw me use it, he asked 'anything I can help you with Sherlock', he has a gag for every occasion. Seriously though, I need to know how many calories are in that large cream eclair before I commit. You see I'm not all bad, I balance it out by eating a piece of mackerel and a handful of rasberries. Not together obviously, but both look good in my daily eating record, yes I do that now, I keep a food diary. Whilst the eclairs may congregate with the doughnuts around the waistline, the fish livens up the brain and the rasberries flush it all out. There is a method to the madness.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I was going to have a moan about getting old and decrepit, but the truth is, I am quite enjoying it. My flowing blue locks are fooling no-one, I'm perceived as ancient, but I'm OK with that. The world feels like a much kinder place, young people go out of their way to be helpful and polite. I am on the outside edges of the hustle and bustle and phew to that. I don't know how I managed as a single working mum, but I did, and I survived it and much, much more, but I'll never forget the nights I cried because I had to stay in. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now, at 65 I am able to do whatever I want whenever I feel. Unfortunately the good Lord, if there is one, chucked we over 60's a curved ball. He (it had to be a man) gave us all this freedom when we are least likely to enjoy it! Sure we can go to wild parties, do drugs, and stay out all night, but we don't really want to. My list of things to do before I die is shrinking. I have had to strike off ketamine and MDMA but I'm still up for the mushrooms. I jest, my weekend with Jack Nicholson getting drunk and high in New Orleans, has been downgraded to a night in with a movie (one of his obviously) and a cup of cocoa. Nah, scrub that, loads of drugs and a medic on standby. The wicked little devil became my kind of guy when he told Cher to leave the dishes and laundry because she would have to do it all again 'tomorrow', made me swoon. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I digress. Getting old and decrepit can be cool. No rushing for trains, no arsehole bosses, no boring filing and no paper cuts - jeez they hurt. In the past few months I have been able to watch all the ins and outs of the Johnny Depp .v. Amber Heard trial and I have to say it had more drama, conflict and pathos than any movie or drama I have ever seen. Being an old hippy chick, I am naturally aligned to Johnny Depp, he is unique and kind of crazy. I don't know what it is with brilliant men, that they can be so easily swayed by a pretty face, but they can. Arthur Miller/Marilyn Monroe (though she too was brilliant in her own way), Charlie Chaplin and his penchant for young starlets. Some might say they ask to get taken for a ride, but it is a human trait. History is littered with tales of young scarlet women and totally smitten old eejits willing to give up everything for them, see Henry VIII.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Happily justice has been done. The jury saw exactly what the behaviour analysts, the pundits and we the audience saw. AH is a terrible actress and violently psychotic. Johnny, poor sod, was lucky to get away from her alive. Prince Harry on the other hand has no escape. When someone starts cutting people out of your life, you are in the hands of a control freak and it is not pleasant. Harry has a new life, but he hasn't got his old life, the one he clearly enjoyed before he gave it all up for his wife. Ouch, actually a lifetime of ouch.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But back to the joys of getting older. I love having the time to explore subjects that have always interested me and discovering new ones that have kept me fascinated. I am still in the midst of my Viking phase, mostly because I have been able to go back and watch the series again from the beginning, this is where the geriatric memory loss comes in handy. And I have loved being able to, vicariously, visit the most interesting and inaccessible places on earth via intrepid vloggers who always have their cameras with them. Viva technology say I, who ever thought we would live in such a brave new world eh?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My kindest wishes to those who have come this far, my writer's block, I hope will break one of these days, now that I have the time and 'room of one's own', all I ever wanted. Meanwhile, take care, thank you for reading. Would love to hear how being over 60 affects others, thoughts welcome.</span></p><p><br /></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-59962655942131813572022-06-28T18:13:00.000+01:002022-06-28T18:13:33.752+01:00LONG HAIR OVER 60 - DO WE DARE?<p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkuu0sQbw3zSTGr7taXUVow3jNjyJ2lhHa-ojAcIN9gDZ8frYTqrZ2ZV6kO1xri8WoZNOJ57tB0kzGDcstMUMb7G7dQhMolaPz02L8Pm5Q8L2xHGuoYsWf9zfXhTiAiaPhxc1oXYBFvaaVtecGILjrfhfgYR3JIVcW6SE25BGmRzJGSkQv5ncoL5Z0/s2211/new%20do%20pretty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2211" data-original-width="1658" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkuu0sQbw3zSTGr7taXUVow3jNjyJ2lhHa-ojAcIN9gDZ8frYTqrZ2ZV6kO1xri8WoZNOJ57tB0kzGDcstMUMb7G7dQhMolaPz02L8Pm5Q8L2xHGuoYsWf9zfXhTiAiaPhxc1oXYBFvaaVtecGILjrfhfgYR3JIVcW6SE25BGmRzJGSkQv5ncoL5Z0/s320/new%20do%20pretty.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rbOkmIHWgPOING-v67Qwt7IAHiVcJC9Tzm81f2KNuJ5dHkGY7baSWXOtd1lmt2a0WjOdKL-sGHjftbu3XdSSUSjladK6OKiE7Rs8kcu6EIMW7RTkCGx9RkMBgYl01G380zy34CUscLHkeNE5-lWP7rdMDSEovGVGBfAb3eu1ffUCo9UnRvIgkZSX/s4032/New%20do%20side%20view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rbOkmIHWgPOING-v67Qwt7IAHiVcJC9Tzm81f2KNuJ5dHkGY7baSWXOtd1lmt2a0WjOdKL-sGHjftbu3XdSSUSjladK6OKiE7Rs8kcu6EIMW7RTkCGx9RkMBgYl01G380zy34CUscLHkeNE5-lWP7rdMDSEovGVGBfAb3eu1ffUCo9UnRvIgkZSX/s320/New%20do%20side%20view.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: large;">Well, that's it, finally I have been to the hairdressers. The no more cutting, no more colouring began with the lockdown, but then just carried on when I realised that long hair is actually far less maintenance than short hair! Who knew? I must have spent thousands over the years having my hair done, hair cutting is the one area of my life where I have never economised and I have had some wild and wonderful hairstyles over the years, it's always kind of been my thing. Some might say, if I had taken as much care with my choice of men as I do with hair stylists, it might all have been different...... ah, such is life.</span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qVRT1MqbWBL1M9bfCMZULiMhxufdrQD4-dnIfRnTVOamICE2vOS5_aEVVD6GHlYVPY2yN-F1mq9V8-SCfrYw-bDMXjKqKvl4f06kV4I5HNxLPADZI2Ns7gKGBvrradU5SqpTAmuCqrmsYQiywlsBtPdeKDib3eLGcQFI5utkorYiJhCHLkK4MZD5/s4032/New%20do%20back%20full).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2qVRT1MqbWBL1M9bfCMZULiMhxufdrQD4-dnIfRnTVOamICE2vOS5_aEVVD6GHlYVPY2yN-F1mq9V8-SCfrYw-bDMXjKqKvl4f06kV4I5HNxLPADZI2Ns7gKGBvrradU5SqpTAmuCqrmsYQiywlsBtPdeKDib3eLGcQFI5utkorYiJhCHLkK4MZD5/s320/New%20do%20back%20full).jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">But little things make me happy, none more so than a great new 'Do'. I had forgotten the joy and anxiety of going into a hairdressers, fearful yet excited as to how it is going to go. I haven't been able to sleep since I made the appointment. I can't forget the one time I gave my hairdresser free rein. She cut my hair in the style of Friar Tuck, it was the 80's and boxy short hairdos were in. There were no redeeming features, I could neither brush it upwards, backwards or anywhere other than square in the centre of my head. The best I could get from family, colleagues and friends, and yes, there were snickers, was it will grow back. Not when it's above your fecking ears it won't.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I digress, I get very emotional when recalling bad hair experiences, mostly it has been a joy, in the past I would always go show my dear old Dad when I got my hair cut. He knew the way to my narcissistic heart, if I was down in the dumps he would put his hand in his pocket for a couple of notes, so I could go and get my hair done. His knowledge of psychology ran deep. My next step would be to call my mother to discuss the new do in depth. When I first went blonde she asked ' what, like Lily Savage?' why her first thoughts went to that extreme visual is mind boggling, but also hilarious. Thereafter it would be 2 hours on the phone to my mate Big Lynn, she was a very patient woman, and then basically anyone who would listen. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Keeping people interested in the hair talk is kind of hard work. I am currently exchanging texts with a friend who's first love is home decor, she is pretty skilled at steering the conversation into lampshades and wallpaper, getting the chat back to my blue hair is proving difficult, it's like a game of chess. Smart Arsed Son managed a 'yeah, it looks good', but will not go beyond that. He pointed out yet again that he is not the gay son I had always dreamed of. Now planning a night out (for my 65th) at a gay club where the shallow subject of hair can be discussed with empaths. The whole concept of empaths is quite new to me, and I am sure I am one. Not a wise thing to claim as I have discovered. Smart Arsed Son has found thousands of new and creative ways to say 'not an empath', which is vexing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I cannot complain, I received an abundance of compliments from the young girls who worked in the salon and the stylist who kept using words like gorgeous and fabulous, I felt like a film star! For anyone who is interested, I got the colour from Fanola No More Yellow purple shampoo (on recommendation of a dear reader) and the Fanola purple hair mask (like a conditioner). I haven't used anything else, not even regular shampoo, and my hair has been in fabulous condition ever since. I was advised 'carry on doing whatever you are doing', which is a great thing to hear from a hairdresser. Also great to hear long hair at any age is OK. I think back in the 60's you would have been put in a straight jacket, or earlier still, the ducking stool! I will shut up about hair, a blog on the joys of being over 60 follows:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-30736667918516709722022-04-07T14:52:00.001+01:002022-04-07T14:52:32.299+01:00Sorry Sonia, but no........<p> <span style="font-size: large;">I'm not sure how I ever ended up on the same page as Sonia Poulton one time because on almost every subject we hold polemically opposite views. I have no problem with people being whatever gender they choose to be, it matters not to me, I actually have a soft spot for those with the courage to be themselves, even if it does mean stepping outside of our traditional codes and conventions. Most people, myself included, though less so these days, present ourselves as the world expects us to.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To be honest I have not paid an awful lot of attention to what Sonia has to say about the trans community, the men especially, because I look on it as, and I hate to use this phrase; 'fearmongering'. For myself, I cannot see how someone's sexual identity is in any way threatening to anybody. I have never been scared to use a public bathroom and I would question is there even one recorded instance of a trans man accosting or assaulting a woman in public bathroom or store changing rooms? I remember once bumping into a divinely glamorous Queen in a powder room, well it was more of a boudoir, did I feel threatened, not at all, I remember having a delightful conversation about lipstick. I simply cannot understand why anyone would want to attack the way others choose to live their lives, what does it matter to them? it makes no sense to me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Next the craziness surrounding Covid-19, the anti-masking, anti-vaxxing and lunatic conspiracy theories she is promoting regarding protecting ourselves. She and others have forced our, albeit incompetent, government to drop all the defences we had against this virulent disease. No masks, no distancing, no testing, no numbers, though we do know 4.5 million were infected last week and 368 people died. That is, we are right back to the days when Covid was at it's peak - and no-one cares. In 1918, the 'Spanish Flu' came in waves, then it mutated and killed 50 million worldwide. Naturally, that is a risk Boris Johnson and his mates are willing to take, in their pursuit of even more riches, they have literally made billions out of the pandemic thus far. Those on the front line, the NHS, the delivery drivers, the food industry, all the people who kept this country ticking over, abandoned as the virus rages. We are now in the place Sonia campaigned for. No more protections even if the virus does mutate into something more deadly. We haven't gained more freedom, we have lost it. Because those using common sense will continue to practice social distancing, masking, handwashing, and if advised, more boosters. Those still taking advice from Boris et al need their heads testing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It angers me that Sonia is using her considerable talents to take on causes that are not only wrong but dangerous. I am no supporter of this government, but the half arsed effort they put into the pandemic in the beginning was something at least. Compared to the rest of the world however, the abysmal UK covid stats were among the worst. The big question I would ask Sonia? How can she look at the dischevilled oaf that is Boris Johnson and the demonic coke heads that surround him and imagine him putting together some kind of Dr. Evil plot? The most inept government we have ever had taking over our minds, lives, etc, now that is laugh out loud funny. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thus far, I can look on Sonia's views with a raised eyebrow and a few ffs, but but her latest comment on the invasion of Ukraine offends me on every level. How on earth has she bought into Russian Propaganda? We live in a time where news is instant and brought to us by people who are 'on the spot', both the press and the public. We have factual news from every angle. It is a cruel and wicked lie to suggest that footage of mass graves and bodies in the streets are staged. That kind of cruel propaganda is expected from Putin but not from a British journalist. Since the Russian invasion, I have followed a number of individuals, Ukrainians, who are on the front line, literally posting from a war zone. How they are surviving on little rations and the devastating sights they are seeing. The horror is very real to them as Sonia would know if she did a little more research. I am also following Russians, escaping Russia, or reporting how the sanctions and the actions of the West are affecting real Russian citizens. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Putin is a monster. He is sending mobile crematoriums along with his tanks, to cover up the evidence of his war crimes. No-one thought Hitler could be topped, but Putin has found a way. This is a war where we hear the voices of the real people who are on the ground, Ukrainian and Russian. There is no excuse for any connected Western journalist to promote clearly fake Russian propaganda. For me it brings to mind Lord Haw Haw's 'Germany Calling', and that's a road no sane journalist wants to go down.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sonia asks if any other President has spoken at the Grammys in wartime, a silly question in my opinion. The world has moved on considerably since the Grammys began (1959), it is possible now to transmit information globally, in real time, As a child of the 60's, WWII was still fresh in people's memories, especially the horrors of Hitler's death camps and crematoriums. The top phrase at that time was 'this must never happen again'. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We now have the technology and the will to record and report war crimes to a wide audience. Yes, it was rare, in fact a first, for a President to speak at the Grammys, but President Zelensky was invited because he is a hero. He is fighting for freedom and democracy, beliefs I would have thought were in line with Sonia's. It is right that the world should be applauding him and helping him. There is no moral dilemma here. History is littered with heroes and villains, and the heroes usually take unexpected and unconventional ways to win their battles. This is a war of propaganda as much as it is a bloody battlefield and Putin is pretty good at brainwashing, he has had over two decades to practice. Giving Zelensky a spot on the Grammys is one of the best weapons the West could have given him, without kicking off WWIII. He spoke directly to the pop stars and musicians who are worshipped by young Russian people. How can Putin top that?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> I have to admit that I am struggling at the moment to understand why Sonia and a handful of people on the Left that I used to admire, are taking the 'fake news' path on Russia's invasion of Ukraine, is there something I am not seeing? </span></p><p><br /></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-67538931085886628122022-03-19T16:50:00.001+00:002022-03-19T17:41:27.367+00:00BLAIR AND STARMER, FEMINISM, UKRAINE, END OF WORLD PACK<p><span style="font-size: large;">I used to be a proud, fully paid up, member of the Labour Party many, many, many moons ago. I even supported the smartened up New Labour of Tony Blair and Gordon Brown who eschewed the regulation corduroy trousers, pipe and no time for grooming look of the Left. Looking like the working classes was getting Labour nowhere, all those Labour had lifted into the middle classes had no time for activists, they wanted their leaders to be like the Tories for a snapshot, but a little less cruel. It was a time to cosy up to the bosses, be more like them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It worked for a while, in fact Blair and his descendants think it was a success and is working still. Basically the ideology is give the bosses everything they want and they will stop treating their employees like shit. Bosses and workers, standing together, friends. If peace is what you want, in the sense of workers not complaining, then yeah, it works, full appeasement usually does, but the rights of those workers have been decimated. There are now zero hours contracts, firing and rehiring and a subjugated workforce with few, if any rights to protect pay and jobs. See P&O Ferries. Brexit helps too, no more pesky European Courts to point out Britain's human rights abuses. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, Keir Starmer is of the same ilk as Blair, he wants to be everyone's friend and he is happy to stab workers in the back. Starmer wants whatever unholy alliance Blair made with elite to continue. Maybe, like Peter Mandelson, he hopes one day to drink champagne on an Oligarch's yacht, or have a play day with Jeffrey Epstein. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">History repeats itself over and over again. Tyrants know that if they impoverish their subjects, create mass unemployment, all the advantages lie in the hands of the employers, they can pick and choose and the workers will fight each other. Cute, bumbling, laddish, Boris has broken the back of the working classes, He has taken the power of the many and given it back to the few. How the fuck did that happen? Historians will ask centuries from now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My heart was broken when Jeremy Corbyn did not win the 2019 General Election, it felt like the last chance, in my lifetime, of seeing a progressive socialist government that would invest in people, the NHS, infrastructure, education, science, the arts, the caring professions. Imagine all those billions salted away by the greedy being invested in this country? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I am politically homeless. I simply cannot, cannot, vote for a party that has Keir Starmer, Wes Streeting and Jess Phillips. Jess Phillips makes me hate the fact that I ever described myself as a feminist. Feminism these days seems to be all about being a victim and of all soul destroying afflictions, victim mentality is about the worst. Telling a woman she is a victim, will, err, keep her victim. Surely, feminism is about empowerment? The truth is no-one needs to remain in an intolerable situation. The choices we make in our lives are OUR choices. We have no control over the behaviour of another person, none whatsoever, our control lies in how we respond to that behaviour. That is the limit of our control. I hate to say it, but quite often abused women believe they can tame the beast, take control, I blame Disney, but they can't. It is only when they accept they can't, that they can move on. Helpers should be telling them how powerful they are, not how pathetic they are.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jess Phillips et all can blame men, make them the bad guys for every word or gesture they deem offensive, but hating men is rarely the answer. I grew up in a non PC age, I worked in London as a 'temp' a different office every week. Every office had every category of perv and groper, we 'gals about town' would swap notes and giggle about them. No-one was traumatised. In fact work was fun, I can't imagine how joyless offices must be these days, I certainly didn't turn up for my love of typing. And before anyone calls me a wanton strumpet, purrlease, like most women my age, I can turn any man to an apologetic wuss with a raised eyebrow and one word 'Seriously?' </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But back to the present day, I am obsessed with the war in the Ukraine and terrified at how much it could escalate. Yesterday our cars were covered with red sand from the Sahara, you see what I am saying. Just how crazy is Putin? He held a rally for himself, emulating Trump, but as we have seen large rallies are not an indication of overall public opinion. Trump had big rallies and lost.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">From everything I have read and seen, I think Putin has lost. Not just because his large convoy of tanks is stuck in a quagmire, but because the soldiers on the ground in Ukraine are not committed to him and this war. Many it seems, are abandoning their vehicles and going door to door begging for food. Putin was badly advised. He did not foresee how hard the Ukrainian people would fight. How can he subdue a nation that refuses to be subdued? At the same time he must subdue his own Russian people who, it would appear, are openly rebelling. Today, Russian Cosmonauts appeared in public wearing Ukrainian colours. Putin's victory celebration of annexing Crimea, was a show of strength, a commitment to his war (not a war in Russia) remains strong. Putin is not known for putting on victory rallies, so I would say he is in big trouble. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So those are my thoughts for this week, 19th March 2022, hopefully, I will do this regularly. My kindest wishes to those who still look in, hope life is treating you well. Who knew we would survive a pandemic only to face who knows what. I am currently mentally preparing an 'end of world' pack. It would contain lots of mind altering drugs (obviously), a nice Chablis, blinis with caviar (only had them once and they were mindblowing, or that may have been the shots of vodka that accompanied them). Desserts, Oooh that is a toughie, I think a slice of Black Forest Gateau, but I do love panna cotta. Strange how my end of world scenario goes straight to food and mind altering substances rather than a ball of string and a deadly weapon, but there you go. Take care.</span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-17301037678359264302022-02-26T18:12:00.001+00:002022-02-26T18:20:10.106+00:00Aha, now I get why Putin is evil<p><span style="font-size: large;"> There's an awful lot to dislike about Vladimir Putin tis true, but I kind of admired his unashamed machismo, confidence and mysterious KGB past. The pure evil of his character didn't hit me until this week. Not his violent invasion of an independent democratic country, as bad as that is, but his appeal to the men of the Ukrainian army to join him and not to use their children, wives, elders as human shields. In that moment, finally, I could see him as he actually is. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The term male chauvinist is so overused, it no longer sounds derogatory, and Putin is so much more than that. He has positioned himself as a fighting man talking to fighting men, warrior to warrior as in, we the gun carrying men, are the ones who are really in charge, the ones who will make the decisions. He doesn't appeal to the elected Ukrainian government or to it's male and female leaders. Nor to the women who are fighting alongside the men in the streets of Kyiv. In his short appeal to Ukrainian men, he lists women as wives and they come after children as if it were a list of chattels. He is not addressing Ukrainian women at all. His message sent a chill through me, this is who he really is, this is a glimpse of how he would rule Ukraine. Not with a Council of representatives from each gender, biological or other, or every faith and ethnic background, but with macho white men willing to carry out every atrocity asked of them. He eschews democracy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For me this was a lightbulb moment and a time to do a bit of serious research and by serious research, I mean watching experts on the Russian threat giving detailed analysis of the history of the region and the current situation. I now feel like a fool and more than a tad ashamed of my ignorance. I spent at least 6 months of the lockdown watching everything Russian I could find, historic and present day in the form of Russian films and 'Bald and Bankrupt', an English vlogger on Youtube who travels all around Russia and areas that were formerly part of the Soviet Union. And they are bleak, neglected and poverty stricken. It is clear that Russia does not use it's vast wealth to improve the lives of its' citizens. Clearly there is little to no investment in housing, roads, infrastructure and amenities that are enjoyed by all the European countries that surround it. They look as though they are trapped in a time warp.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For me it is becoming more clear why Ukrainians today are willing to fight and die on their streets rather than surrender to the tyrannical rule of Vladimir Putin. Forget 'Godwin's Law'*, there is a direct comparison to Hitler. He has carried a grudge against the West for his entire life. He wants to right the wrongs of previous Soviet leaders who broke up 'his' territory, his Russian Empire. And let's not forget the role of money. He probably is the richest man in the world, who knows, but imagine how rich he would be once he owns everything? Sure the sanctions will hit him but the prize is worth it and besides he has been preparing for this war for over 20 years. His people and his country have been deprived for years, paying one presumes, for an almighty war machine. The rich USA has 8,000 tanks for example, 'third world' Russia has 22,000. Just as an aside, a lot of the money stolen from the Russian people is invested in the London property market, so there you go.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Right now I feel ashamed at the response from the USA, the UK and NATO. Why would they not allow Ukraine to join NATO? Is it because they knew Ukraine would be first? Maybe membership of NATO would have prevented this invasion? It is good that the allies are offering support in the way of sanctions and humanitarian and military (equipment) aid, but it changes nothing. Here's a crazy idea. What if NATO sent actual troops in to help the Ukrainians fighting on the ground? And Putin has chosen the arena, ground fighting on the streets, not as yet weapons of mass destruction. Is he mad enough to go there? Some might say, yep, he crossed that line eons ago. But right now he has chosen hand to hand combat, thousands of trained Russian soldiers against a mostly civilian population. The men and women of Ukraine stand alone against the might of Russia while the rest of the world watches. Couldn't NATO at least protect them from incoming bombs by declaring Ukraine a no fly zone?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We have never seen this kind of horror so clearly and so graphically as we do now. Wars filled up the column inches of the broadsheets and occasionally the front pages of the tabloids, but this one, with social media, is happening in real time right in front of us. We oldies are thinking, jeez, this could have happened to us if 'the Few' and Dad's Army hadn't guarded us against the Nazis. And of course it did happen to other European countries which is why we fought so hard to hold onto all the freedoms we hold so dear.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I feel really scared. Hitler did not stop at invading Poland. Putin has stashed enough arms and ammunition to take over the world. That's what mad men do as history and James Bond have shown us. The world is now at a pivotal moment, not too dissimilar to the Cuban Missile Crisis. Joe Biden is in a horrendous position, and thank heavens for all his political experience, because he is now playing a game of nuclear chess. Putin is feeling emboldened because his troops are now marching in Kyiv. My greatest hope is that Putin's soldiers start asking themselves, what am I doing, these are my friends, my relatives. It's happened before, it can happen again. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>At this moment I am rooting and praying for President Zelensky, what a hero and an inspiration, so polemically different to every other politician we have ever seen. I hope he gets all the miracles he needs to get through this, I just wish the world would do more to save these innocent people, what is the use of a powerful international force if it is kept only as a threat. </span><span>If I were Biden, I would bring the full force of NATO against the invading Russian army. Stop them before it goes too far, because too far is what Putin is aiming for. Putin wants all the territories of the former Russian Empire under his control and he has embarked on a mission to get them back. I don't think he will stop at Ukraine, do you?</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">*if you mention Hitler or the Nazi's, you've lost the argument.</span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-19382369083148622802022-02-11T23:47:00.001+00:002022-02-12T00:06:57.117+00:00HOW DO YOU BEHAVE OVER 60?<p><span style="font-size: large;"> <span>I got chatted up today and I was tickled pink, it's been donkeys years since that happened. Now I am used to strangers talking to me when I am out and about, although to be fair it is mostly me who instigates it, I am a cheery soul. But today was totally different. I thought it nice and friendly when a young man I stood next to at a pedestrian crossing asked if I was having a nice day, and indeed I was. He then remarked how beautiful I was, beautiful eyes, beautiful hair. At this point I became totally discombobulated, as in Ooo ooo, he's chatting me up, I was caught between 'this is totally inappropriate' and giggly schoolgirl mode. Good heavens said I, I'm old enough to be your grandmother, should have said mother, because he was about mid 30's just to give it context, but nevertheless the compliments continued. I will spare you the details of how wonderful I am, but I will keep them to myself and cherish them forever more. Take note male readers, don't hold back on the compliments, we gals treasure them as much as diamonds. But I had to bring it to an end by pointing out I was over 60, whereby he departed gracefully and I walked away grinning from ear to ear. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Naturally I couldn't wait to tell everyone I know (about 3 people) I got chatted up! Of course I got the asylum missing a lunatic jibes etc, but the best reply goes to SAS (Smart Arsed Son) who said I should have got the number of his dealer. Hmm. I was most delighted at his [chatter upper]compliments for my hair. It is very long, very thick and very blue. Today, any thoughts I had of having it cut into a more age appropriate and much easier to manage, style, went right out the window. I have spent a lifetime and a lot of money on stylish, high maintenance hairstyles, mostly bobs, and do I want to go back to blow drying every day, hell no. Even if I don't wash it for a week, I can still put it up into all sorts of stylish 'dos' that I am learning from the internet. Having never really had very long hair before, I'm experiencing all the joys that the 6 year old me missed out on. Both my mother and my father sheared me of my locks as a child, mostly because I wouldn't let them near me with a brush, comb or shampoo and I kept getting fleas, so I don't hold it against them.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But this major event in my life, the other one was the discovery that you can add spinach to a smoothie and not taste it! Who knew? set me thinking on the onset of the menopause, middle age and old age. And for the purpose of this blog, and by popular demand I will turn now to the menopause, for me, now just a distant, but I have to say, enlightening memory. Never mind the extremes of emotions, the spontaneous crying, the hot flushes and the God help me I am going to murder you rages, I like to focus on the pluses, and jeez, they are major. You get your brain back! Take a minute, let it sink in, remember that bright young science/arts geek you once were before a whiff of testosterone turned you into a wanton strumpet. I have the unique experience of reading a social worker's opinion on my 14 year old self; 'Linda could achieve anything she wants, unfortunately she has discovered boys'. Honest, but ouch. I remember at the time being in love with a boy who loved my best friend who was in love with my brother. Yes, I was at the tail end of this little love cycle, unloved by anyone but the fat kid with a dodgy eye. I will never forget, and even now it brings a lump to my throat, how the love of my life danced with my best friend to 'Hey girl don't bother me' and glared at me with loathing! Ok, I used artistic licence there with loathing, it was more of a 'ffs will you piss off' glare, he might just as well have said, I have the better girl in my arms and it broke my innocent young heart. How could this be, thought I, he liked playing wrestling games with me too? Little did I know, that men like playing wrestling games with lots of girls, doh! And it was on my birthday! Yep, you can reach for the tissues now, the only consolation I have is that he had a big nose (even though it was adoreable). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But let me return to the big issue, getting your brain back. Some may call it losing your mojo which at first glance may appear to be a disadvantage, but all the benefits soon become apparent. No more phoning dealers at 3.00am when you want the part to go on and on and on. Very quickly you will notice the rise in your bank balance and the lowering of your blood pressure, stress levels and yes, chaos in your life. You will quickly see the love of your life, or the infatuation of your life not as Romeo, Heathcliff or Gerard Butler but as flesh and blood males in cardies and slippers. For myself, I was never much enamoured by Romeo, he seemed like a bit of a wuss, but Heathcliff was the man I wanted when my oestrogen levels were high. As a young woman, I wanted to procreate with someone dark, moody, and yes, mad, bad and dangerous to know. Damn you Emily Bronte for awakening all my teenage hormones to the delights of six packs and male passion, credit also to the Diet coke 11.30 ad. And thanks to, to Lady Caroline Lamb, for summing up a penchant for bad boys so succinctly. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm trying here to sell loss of mojo as a good thing, and doing very badly. Ha ha, must have been my delightful encounter today, but goodness me, the thought of going on a date or having any kind of encounter with a hmm, gentleman, (a must), has made me come over all unnecessary, as my old pal, Big Lynn, used to say. A charming expression, I hope you will agree. And, as my old dad used to say, mostly after half a bottle of Teachers, 'never on my nelly duff'. I never really understood the meaning, but it was usually accompanied by lively arm movements and a deep sigh, so I got the drift. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well never on my nelly duff (can someone please tell me what that means, (my dad was a Dundonian) did I think I would ever get chatted up again at this grand old age. That part of my life was firmly locked away when I got my brain back. Men, hmmm. who'd have them! But I like their company and that 'guy' perspective, screams the inner me. Is going on a date with a guy my age, or a tad younger such a bad thing? At least they would remember Tony Blair, Princess Diana, the Beatles and Johnny Rotten. Besides, since getting my brain back, I can quickly distinguish between the gold diggers (I wish lol), those looking for a carer and the downright unpleasant. Not that I have looked, ha ha, the idea, in my school marmish head is 'totally inappropriate'! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Such is life, when we are at our best our reproductive organs and hormones make really dodgy choices that are beyond the control of what little is left of the brain we once had. Never mind the future millionaires and academics, they are looking for the Yorkie bar eaters and silver backs. The nearer the knuckles are to the ground the more desireable they become. Meanwhile the clever fuckers are discovering the joys of rotting fruit and making plans on how to improve their lives without doing any actual work. It has always been the dinosaur slayers over the cave drawers and thus, here we are. So listen bitches (have drunk gin) never mind his biceps and triceps, what has he got in his bank account and is it going up? If you want an Adonis, get a ring on your finger and you will have years to torture him under the guise you are only doing it for his benefit. As an addendum, was going to write an advice book but was afraid it might come across a tad bitter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I digress as usual. Today's encounter has lifted my spirits in a whole new way. Sadly, the darkness, and the G&T have now kicked in. What if his intention was to abduct me? Highly unlikely, we were in a public place in the centre of the town. Was he harassing me? No, absolutely not. He was a gentleman, polite and respectful throughout, I did not for one moment feel threatened. I felt a bit sad actually that men can no longer approach women or vice versa or whatever which way without fear of causing offence. Why is being friendly so often misinterpreted as aggressive or threatening. As someone who used to describe myself (annoying post grad mature student) as 'Marxist/feminist', I was very naive. I now cringe and steer away from those those who label themselves as feminists now. I hate the #metoo movement and I hate the woke culture that is sucking all the fun, humour, banter and male v female jousting that is part of our genes, our heritage and our culture. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For myself, I really didn't want to again start the paragraph with 'I' again, err, I have always loved being a girl. Just want to get that out there. And those who want to be girls. I'm like yay, come join us -let's talk makeup. I wasn't always so in touch with my feminine side, actually, I was a tomboy little girl who just wanted to beat all the boys up, but I never wanted to be one of them! I was a bit of a sociopath aged 5, world domination was what I was going for. Naturally, I never felt inferior, because, basically, boys were so easy to boss about. Punch the right one in the eye and you have domination. The others will fold. That was why adolescence came as such a shock to me, some of them fight back. It set all my plans back by decades. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I have nothing to label myself with. Left, hmm, not so sure, will never get over Corbyn, he is right up with my boy with a big nose, but see nothing for real socialists within the forseeable future, unless of course, JC starts a new party. But even then, I am uncomfortable with the nanny state attitude of the Left and that is what I think scared scared all those Centre people at the last election. We demand our right to eat copious amounts of sugar and invest in pyramid schemes and yet to be established shipping firms. Ears ears' shout the Eton front bench and 'ere ere' shout the right wing football thugs who now believe their interests are aligned with the Tories. I'm one of those who shout 'education, education, education' but how tf do find your way through such density? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I condemned the Labour Left there which was probably unkind, as they are the decent people I feel most aligned to. It is kind of ridiculous that there are areas of this planet where they still suffer the kinds of deprivation experienced by our ancestors in the middle ages. How can anyone be comfortable feeding all their greed, be it diamonds, yachts or designer clothing, yet walk past those who's lives would change overnight for the price they pay for one designer dress. I've been watching Project Runway.... again. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The world is topsy turvey, as always, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we have all seen enough sci movies, to see the multiple ways in which it could all go drastically wrong. I'm an old stoner so won't be rushing to a beach to embrace and say farewell to my loved ones as a giant wave engulfs us, I think, having seen, vicariously, the dramatic images of those forever captured in time in Pompeii, my inclination would be to strike a pose, as in Madonna, circa Vogue 1980's. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I would have loved to have had a one hour session with Freud, preferably when he was extolling the virtues of cocaine. I can picture me laid back on his chaise longue, asking 'why is it I love men yet also want to murder them'? I used to pretend my idea of re-laying the patio were all fictional plots (I'm a writer doncha know) but I would love to get together with Picasso for an 'icepick in the back of the head after saying 'while you're up love, get me......'. I think it would encapsulate his art and my underlying psychopathy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I jest of course. I never thought of murder, except for that one night when I looked longingly at my then new fish filleting knife. Honest to god, it was the kind of knife that would have been beloved of the Silence of the Lambs killer or indeed, Jack the Ripper. I had all sorts of reasons to carry out the heinous act, not least that he added ham to scrambled eggs the next morning. Who does that? But still I am joking, I phoned the 'Samaritans' that night, 'do you want to kill yourself they asked', because that's their job, 'no, said I, I want to kill him!'. I don't think I did really, but I was extremely cross. More than cross, he was the most annoying person I have ever met! If I had lived in the US I would have shot him down, and probably be out by now. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Still jesting. I have no regrets for all those years we spent knocking seven bells out of each other. I do regret that I was so easily taken in by the extremist feminist view that convinced me I was a victim. I was never a victim, and I think it is wrong to indoctrinate women with the idea that they are victims, or somehow at a disadvantage. This new generation of feminists are persuading women that they are weaker and they need help, an advantage over their male counterparts. I hate that attitude. Surely if you win, you want it to be on an equal playing field? It's not really a win if it isn't. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It feels weird to say this but I hate #metoo, I had all those do good organisations that dedicated to persuading niche groups of men, women or any gender that they are victims. Wtf? As an (amateur) historian, I would ask, why would any group (gender) present themselves as weaker than their enemy, their opponent. Who would stand up and say 'I am weaker than you, so give me concessions'. The 5 year old me would say, get the f outta here, let's fight. Whilst I hate #metoo, I think I hate 'woke' culture even more. Bizarrely I find myself siding with otherwise insane, right wing loons, who are saying enough already, on pc language and the woke stuff at least. Lets enjoy being women, men or whatever we choose to be and call a halt to all this 'don't gender assign me' shit. I think of them as the puritans from days gone by, that is, their purpose is to suck all the joy out of life. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And no, I have not gone down the insane route of my friend Sonia Poulton. I don't know where the hell she is coming from in her desire to fight for freedom. Don't get me wrong, I am all for freedom fighting, but demanding the right to prolong a pandemic and ignore science is a step too far on the loony side for me. I picture offering the people of 1917/18 a vaccine against a pandemic that was killing them in thousands turning down a vaccine that would safeguard themselves and their families. Methinks, 'are you f*cking insane' would be their first response.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Apologies, I talk too much, my kindest wishes to all who still look in, I am always chuffed to pieces that people take time out of the day to have a read, even if they love me or hate me. Matters not, I will keep writing, even if I get down to 1, it's kind of like having someone to chat to. Take care, and keep safe, xxx</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-84985962510790270092022-02-01T18:52:00.001+00:002022-02-01T18:52:53.341+00:00EATING FOR ONE CAN BE FUN<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Well a very belated Happy New Year to all those who still look in. I did write a New Year blog but I didn't publish, I don't know why. I think it is probably because I am so easily distracted these days, not in a bad way I hasten to add, having the attention span of goldfish is in its own way, quite pleasurable. I can get halfway through a film before realising I have seen it before but carrying on because I can't remember the ending.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I have always taken a huge amount of joy in learning new things, even if it is the 7th time I am relearning them. I jest, the major things stick, like one of the more recent. It dawned on me that it is not necessary to shop for food as if an apocalypse were on its way or have on hand all the ingredients for an impromptu banquet. Learning to shop and cook for one has been like moving from the dark ages into the renaissance! What's that you say? I don't need to buy a 5lb bag of spuds and keep peeling and chopping them for weeks on end til nothing remains but a mangled pile of stalks? I don't have to torture myself with guilt over vegetables in the fridge I have not turned into soup or healthy fritters. I do not have to fill up my fridge with ingredients for meals I will likely never make.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have finally realised that ready meals are not the work of Beelzebub. They are in fact perfect for one person. I have come across a few duds, but on the whole I have been pleasantly surprised. Even the M&S ones are cheaper, if you want a varied diet, than buying the basic ingredients. Four good meals, comes to less than £20.00. I have to say I have never eaten so well with such little work involved and little washing up after! I come from a generation where cooking an evening meal was part of the codes and conventions of life. Almost a ritual. Now I feel like an old fogie for taking so long to adapt and dare I say it, enjoy the conveniences that have been available all this time. For example, why buy a loaf and fillings for a sandwich, when you can just pick up any sandwich you desire ready made? A whole loaf will go mouldy and the ham will curl up. I hate waste, and found I was buying lots of food that was not going to be used. I have no need to pack my freezer with leftover meals I won't touch and will throw out in a year because I have no idea what they are. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I see the light! My whole approach to food has changed considerably. I still enjoy my food, perhaps more now that I have accepted I'm no longer responsible for cooking for others. Having always made a Sunday dinner, that was a hard one, but letting go of the cost, the prep, the cleaning up after, I'm glad I did. M&S do a fine roast and individual packs of veg, so I can amp up the greens.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I have rediscovered smoothies. Something that was a big part of a diet I devised myself where I lost 3 stone in 3 months! It honestly does work, that is it's doable, because I show the 'cheats'. Book available on Amazon, lol. Now I am a creamy gal, lol, that is give me a dessert filled with cream, and I'll put another load of cream on top. Ergo, I make my smoothies with lashings of Greek yoghurt, ground nuts, and or, oats. The best fruits I have found are readily prepared and frozen, so no prep needed and no waste. I look on my smoothies as a replacement meal, they are full of 'goodness' and taste delicious. I haven't tried a 'savoury' one yet, so if anyone knows of a good (palatable) one, please let me know. Does spinach really work with apple? I'm not yet that brave to try.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't particularly diet these days, if anything it is a struggle to maintain the weight I am, I am destined to be one of those little old ladies who shrinks because I have lost some height as well! Again, I'm not not enjoying it, I quite like like being treated as fragile, just wait til I open me gob! ha ha.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Making the transition to eating for one may have a tinge of sadness, but once you get past that bit, it opens up a whole new world of culinary delights. I think I have always judged ready meals by the standards of the 70's and 80's when curries and rice came in a box (what was the name of that famous brand?). Of course they are nothing like that now, we have every cuisine, beautifully prepared for us in the chilled section. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Of course eating like this has given me lots more time than I probably didn't need but enjoyed nevertheless. And I feel I am eating well, that is, I would be quite happy to be presented with any one of the meals I buy in a B&B with evening meal. M&S also do divine desserts that I am more than happy to have two nights in a row. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well this wasn't mean't to be an advert for M&S, but eating for one probably affects a lot of people, old or young, so I thought I would share my experience. Not least because I am spending half as much as I did on food, eating a much nicer and more varied diet without ever once having to think if others might not like it. It's liberating! Finally, I can have roast pork, casseroles galore even liver and bacon if I want (I don't want) or fish and chips all prepared to my liking. Tis bliss! So if like myself you have always avoided convenience foods on moral (screwed up catholic or presbyterian 'must work hard' ethics) or fear of calories or unhealthy ingredients, think again. A recent roast lamb mini meal I had was only 254 calories! And it was delicious, I added extra vegetables and had a full plate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, a kind hello to all my friends, hope your New Year is going well. My philosophy these days is pretty much we are heading towards some sort of Doomsday or 'Walking Dead' situation and I am in acceptance mode. What will be will be. I have seen enough disaster films to seize a 4x4 and raid a chemist! When I do pop my clogs I can't wait to tell my dad and my mum, that the US elected Donald Trump and the UK elected Boris Johnson. They will roar with laughter and astonishment, especially when I tell them yeah it did go as expected, both were disasters, ergo here I am, ha ha. But I'm not going to get political, I have discovered the art of Zen, I am just a tiny particle of sand and everything is beyond my control. Take care everyone.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiC2Gd_eeVed-UNFVxIHv_DWYq48zrSPVlssg5pGpg_RAEkg1cv6pFBssWN4ZUFgCo2RkKJPWT_pZQNonPN-IZqw4fB7o3VTOzLx-lbCWmD2YC9AV84WG3944-4oYw2Z9a8BZ3DrnPS8HC_KsHMjCUmwaioPTcpzYlxKu7n1hBJTA1ythOxZJ9fFzZq=s313" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="161" data-original-width="313" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiC2Gd_eeVed-UNFVxIHv_DWYq48zrSPVlssg5pGpg_RAEkg1cv6pFBssWN4ZUFgCo2RkKJPWT_pZQNonPN-IZqw4fB7o3VTOzLx-lbCWmD2YC9AV84WG3944-4oYw2Z9a8BZ3DrnPS8HC_KsHMjCUmwaioPTcpzYlxKu7n1hBJTA1ythOxZJ9fFzZq" width="313" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><br /></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-5981527003348425242021-12-21T23:58:00.001+00:002021-12-22T00:19:59.586+00:00WHAT I LEARNED THIS YEAR? - 3 gamechanging beauty tips <p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSfxdiNGInkVdv_qph8edKw4cHAetI5hAaSm6iOHwuNswys5X8_IBFGvDET5ydCdyvuAjoJHFJZvKCf7Qd-KjS-ISoe-ycoMv54WtcCMLTQeLJKocVKnqvRxQdv3Ogtq67-mCzr5lQuUgubVupuboKdZs6nipRU1tNSYYOHbRsq7q8kjIgG_lGnQkl=s275" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSfxdiNGInkVdv_qph8edKw4cHAetI5hAaSm6iOHwuNswys5X8_IBFGvDET5ydCdyvuAjoJHFJZvKCf7Qd-KjS-ISoe-ycoMv54WtcCMLTQeLJKocVKnqvRxQdv3Ogtq67-mCzr5lQuUgubVupuboKdZs6nipRU1tNSYYOHbRsq7q8kjIgG_lGnQkl=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I haven't done much with regard to my blog this year and not sure if I will carry on next year, depends perhaps on whether I find a subject that is of interest to others. Meanwhile, my Christmas gift to all my peers who have packed away the Max Factor powder puffs and Revlon red lipsticks, is advice. Get 'em out again and buy more! Old age is the best time to enjoy makeup - let's face it, we have never needed it more! Putting on make up is like taking an upper! It lifts not only your spirits, but your actual face. If you have bad eyes and a dodgy mirror, you will see the face you had all those years ago...... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, I'm not saying you need to go full Barbara Cartland or, God forbid, Baby Jane, though it might be fun, but it is perfectly possible to transform how you look. That is, it is possible to wear make up and look elegant. Think, ladies of a certain age who buy their food in M&S. It's a look, an elegant one in my opinion, and anyone can have it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But, I am not going to waffle. I have put together three beauty tip gamechangers that I wish I had known years ago. How to get fantastic skin, at any age, how to grow your nails long and how to get full long eyelashes. Not the highest priorities for most people right now I know, but a fun and rewarding way to switch off all the doom and gloom. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <u>How to take years off your complexion</u></div></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I began my skin care journey at the start of the pandemic, my skin was kind of meh, that is not too bad because I have always moisturised, but with a fair few sunspots and age spots because I never wore sunscreen. Not to mention the damage caused by a lifetime of excessive drinking, smoking and partying. And, in my sixties, wrinkles. As usually happens with me, what began as a spark of interest, turned into an obsession. Like many women, I had for decades stuck with the same skin care products and make up, rarely venturing outside my established routine. I may occasionally have had the inclination to try something new, but on the whole I simply didn't have time, other things took priority. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I did dip a toe, at the start of the pandemic, I discovered a whole new world of serums and acids that can make your skin brighter, smoother and clearer. What new magic is this? thought I, can it be true? I was determined to find out. It quickly turned into a quest, an obsession and soon my dressing table was looking like an apothecary's counter. Did it work? Sure did, but whilst I had all the time in the world to do 10 step morning and night skincare regimes, I began to tire of it and I began to muddle all the little bottles up, applying the Vitamin C before the Retinol and forgetting the niacinamide altogether and all sorts of variations thereof. It was confusing and not as much fun as when I first began.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So I went back to the beginning, my first dabble in serums and the first time I saw a dramatic improvement in the condition of my skin. My first purchase had a been an 'all in one' Vitamin C clearing serum I found on Amazon for £10.00* from a company called Eva Naturals. At the time I was trying several new products and wasn't quite sure which one was producing the amazing results. I didn't want to credit the Eva serum because I didn't like the smell (and still don't), but time and many trials and errors later, I realised that it was the Eva serum that was making all the difference. And I could see why. It contains all the magic ingredients that I have found to be most effective in just one application. Vitamin C, salicylic acid, hyaluronic acid, niacinamide and retinol. Now the experts would not recommend that you apply the Vitamin and C and retinol at the same time, the vitamin C should go on in the morning and the retinol at night, but for me using this formula twice a day is working really well. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This combination of ingredients keeps my skin clear and blemish free without the need for aggressive exfoliating. To be honest, I hate that exfoliating word and I hate the concept of it, at my age my skin needs to be treated with extra special care. Stripping your skin of all it's natural defences to get squeaky clean is a bit like using a sledgehammer to crack a walnut. Squeaky clean skin is so easily attainable these days without the use of a scrubbing brush! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And yes, you are never too old to learn because I have learned all about cleansing too. I haven't used soap and water on my face for decades, it must be said, for many years I took my makeup off with baby lotion and in more recent times make up wipes. All wrong apparently. And I have to agree. Since ditching them, I haven't had any spots or breakouts. This year I have tried the Japanese double cleansing method, oil massaging followed by foam and the hot flannel technique. They worked beautifully, I have to say, great if you want to spend ages pampering yourself, but a pain if you just want to take your make up off and get into your jim jams. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Most beauty and skin care experts recommend double cleansing, that is you remove your make up with an oil cleanser or a balm for the first cleanse, then a gentle foam wash for the second. I've adapted that to what works for me, no second foam cleanse, it's way too drying. My new found cleansing routine involves 3 steps, I know that sounds contrary to my desire to find short cuts, but the extra step is for those who want to grow and preserve their eyelashes. Part 3, of what I have learned this year. Step 1, I first remove my mascara. I do this by cutting a cotton pad in half and soaking it with micellar water, I use Bioderma miscellar solution - it's the only miscellar water that doesn't sting or irritate my eyes. I stick half the pad under my lower lashes and then put the other half on my closed top lid, making an eyelash 'sandwich'. I let it soak in, squeezing the eyelashes between the wet pads so the mascara simply slides off. I do this first step for two reasons. One to preserve my eyelashes and two I don't want to be rubbing black gunge all over my face during the oil/balm stage. Step 2, I use a big old dollop of Ponds cold cream to massage all over my face, excluding eyes, then I use a clean wet flannel to wipe it all off. Just a regular face flannel, 30p in Wilkos, I keep a stack of them by the bathroom sink, they get one use, then washed. It's greener than using cotton pads and the texture of the flannel gives all the exfoliating you need. My 3rd step, which I don't always do, is a wipe over with above Bioderma miscellar water, the chemical exfoliants in the Vitamin C clearing serum does the rest. I use the tip of my nose to gauge how clean my skin is, that is, no tiny blackheads. Should any dare rise up to the surface, I use the Ordinary's chemical peel, but this I use very sparingly, about once a fortnight, because I am still in two minds as to whether it is a good thing or not. Since using nothing but the vitamin C clearing serum this past two weeks, I haven't had the need to use it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Next moisturisers, I feel I have tried hundreds, from high end miracle creams to Aldi's to Nivea. For decades I simply used Olay's 7 signs of aging day and night duo. I can't say any of the creams I tried made any dramatic difference, and I discovered during my research (watching videos) that none of the beauticians and skin experts I watch ever promote the expensive high end moisturisers. Ergo, moisturiser is moisturiser, it works for you or it doesn't, price isn't a factor in it's effectiveness. The most recommended moisturising creams by the experts are the most basic, such as The Ordinary's Natural Moisturising Factors HD and CeraVe's moisturising cream. I love both, but prefer the CeraVe tub because it is huge and it instantly softens dry bits everywhere! I use it day and night on my face because I love the way it sinks deeply into my skin leaving it soft, moisturised and non shiny, so great for when I want to go make up free. I don't like moisturisers that leave a greasy film on the surface of my skin and so many do, including high end.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I discovered this year, that it is absolutely possible to transform your skin, to make it brighter, clearer and younger looking if you are prepared to take the time and put in the effort. I know the words time and effort lead to a groan, but think of it as 'me,me,me' pampering time and enjoy it, the pay off is amazing. I don't do it to look younger, I wear my white/blue hair with pride, I do it because I want to look the best I can, just as I always have when not in the pits of depression. Learning about skincare and makeup this year has been a joy and I am more than happy to pass on everything I have learned. I am toying with the idea of making videos but that would take a lot of drugs and alcohol and the result wouldn't be pretty. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I jest, so if you are still with me thus far, I will sum up how to make your skin look as though you regularly visit a beauty salon and have facials. All you really need is one bottle of serum (the Eva combined one) and one tub of CeraVe. Each around the £12 mark, so a small investment for visibly noticeable results. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuox5SPXqv3jUjh1HoGn0jM4TOHDvhesv4b5gZR7--57ZRppguH5suN62uh0Mzi24ZFboq663zybDST551I4YIS_aEJ5FRkOn1Q0MR_T-glfxo4mgDNy3cxbaEMqWxFBOmku_wxUlsPumpDNF9NM18NhnTynUBoaeRpXfW76s2DOFh_hK1XVm0gGnh=s2165" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2165" data-original-width="1623" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuox5SPXqv3jUjh1HoGn0jM4TOHDvhesv4b5gZR7--57ZRppguH5suN62uh0Mzi24ZFboq663zybDST551I4YIS_aEJ5FRkOn1Q0MR_T-glfxo4mgDNy3cxbaEMqWxFBOmku_wxUlsPumpDNF9NM18NhnTynUBoaeRpXfW76s2DOFh_hK1XVm0gGnh=s320" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><u>How to grow long elegant nails</u></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Step 1. Think about your nails 24/7, put them at the forefront of everything you think and do. Sounds excessive, but if you are serious about having long, natural nails, it will quickly become a way of life. You will no longer chop a carrot or dash forward to save a falling child if you first ask yourself how will this affect my nails? No more merrily opening cans of fizz or soaking in the bath without wearing rubber gloves. Hot water is the enemy of your nails, you must never wash up without gloves and you can't wash your hair without gloves. Hair washing is one of the worst nail tearers, a hair will sink into the tiniest split, so gloves for the shower too. Ah, should also mention you can never go without nail varnish. But, as I see it, another rewarding, 'me time' pampering chore. Now I know why I was never able to grow my nails before, life got in the way. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I began my quest for long nails by cutting all my nails to the same short length. It was no great sacrifice, I had a mixture of long and short, weak and bendy nails and logic dictates it would be better if they all started at the same length. First big learning curve - chuck out the emery boards! Eek when I think of the years of damage I have done with emery boards and probably another reason I have never been able to grow my nails long. Doh! Buy a glass nail file, under a tenner online and worth every penny. It is a game changer because you can file in both directions, it will last for years and it will never damage your nails. I keep mine with me all the time, ready to catch the slightest chip! In the early days I constantly applied cuticle oils, nail hardeners, bases and top coats and I had the pleasure of watching them grow and grow. For the first time in my life I had long, very long, elegant nails. But as much fun as they were to have, they were annoyingly not practical. Amongst many things, I couldn't type! I cut them down to a wearable length and that's pretty much how I have kept them. I discovered that, yes I can grow my nails long and only wish I had known years ago what I know now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEguNwLOCTc8iWf2SrhXWN3X-W6NB6m5qEMYAMz5FgAULeKOA7vYNPPygLztR6H_Pod0KxuLqWVMIpsc46H5Gb0iQfYFtO-EYnVLwF3yQwjqGnNHKVY2yWin3TP9grP3sa7fGOWYV5ce12xYPZq7GxFo6lEgn4gZ6ValFPoiDrIJ599PtWpQ0nTHSboV=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEguNwLOCTc8iWf2SrhXWN3X-W6NB6m5qEMYAMz5FgAULeKOA7vYNPPygLztR6H_Pod0KxuLqWVMIpsc46H5Gb0iQfYFtO-EYnVLwF3yQwjqGnNHKVY2yWin3TP9grP3sa7fGOWYV5ce12xYPZq7GxFo6lEgn4gZ6ValFPoiDrIJ599PtWpQ0nTHSboV=s320" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p><u><span style="font-size: large;">How to grow long, lush eyelashes</span></u></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yep, another miracle I never would have thought possible and that I wish had been available when I was younger. I have always yearned for long fluttery eyelashes and went through a phase, an OCD trying to find and perfect the art of wearing false eyelashes. Happily the pain of removing the glue and tugging out the few sparse lashes I had, took it's toll and I began to ask myself, do I really need to wear false lashes to take the rubbish out? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As I mentioned, my research mostly consists of watching those wonderful talented beauty vloggers and it was through them that I learned about the miracle that is eyelash growth serum. Again, this was a lightbulb moment, a revelation, could it be true? Well, yes, it works, even on an old bird like me! It works at any age, and the sellers of these serums had thousands of customer reviews with photographic evidence. I tried it and I was not disappointed, within the allotted time, 6 weeks, my lashes were long and lush and I have kept them that way ever since. The first one I tried UKLash worked like a dream, but on the advice of one of my favourite vloggers I tried Vie eyelash serum which is much cheaper and works just as well. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, as with the above growing of long nails, it takes time, patience and nurturing, every lash is precious! No more rubbing, scrubbing or any type of glue near my eye area ever again. Ditto waterproof mascara which takes lashes with it when it comes off. I found the above mascara removing tip in section one, on a Lisa Eldridge (famous beautician) video and I loved it. Not only does it treat your eyelashes gently, it also treats the delicate under eye area gently. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On the mascara front, and in the interests of preserving eyelashes, the Maybelline Sky High mascara is my holy grail. It is a tubing mascara, in that it comes off with warm water, or as mentioned, micellar water and there are no tugs of war. Not to mention, it does incredible things for eyelashes. I would credit it with curling my eyelashes upwards but I think that may be the serum. In any event, they are twice as many as they were last year and it is a joy to finally have the lashes I always dreamed of, bit crazy at my age I know, but they give me the same delight as Santa's gifts for a 6 year old.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Well, I know I have gone completely off track and away from my usual navel gazing, but whenever I learn 'stuff', I have an uncontrollable urge to share it and my enthusiasm with others. It stems from a sense of 'Omg, I wish I had known that years ago'. That is, I really wish someone had told me all the things I am telling you now. In my experience, those women at work with the long talons and blemish free complexions kept their secrets to themselves. Or they wouldn't share them with me. Has been my misfortune in life </span><span>to encounter lots of mean girls along the way. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">All my tips absolutely and positively work, I speak from personal experience and the amazing results I achieved. But I have to admit that each commitment be it nails, skin or eyelashes, takes time, patience and care. That is, all the things we don't have when we are leading busy lives and have more important things to worry about. This pandemic certainly brought us an abundance of time and I wish I could say I spent it more usefully. My conscience, presently chained up in the basement, would scold me relentlessly for my vanity, it is the remains of my catholic indoctrination, that part that tells you scrubbing doorsteps brings you closer to God and cosmetics are the work of Beelzebub.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pah, it bothers me not, my priorities these days are enjoy life while you can, especially all those things you never really had time for in the hectic years. I'm looking on my make up hobby in the same kindly way that I looked on my Dad's calligraphy and matchstick cathedrals. I was happy that it made him happy and I'm fortunate that those who love me, see it the same way. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, I wish all who pop in a very Happy Christmas and a prosperous New Year. Keep safe everyone and hold your loved ones close. My kindest wishes to all, Cristobell.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLxxJEUjZzLpkb2gWfpo6NjcZfvcdyKfbFb_7ITIoVe2-k5t-5uyDky9O_2wXZHMEkwZ6_jf-jbBGWIrFIyqKSPA04-f7POxh9rCS4FmOYGCmDmnkmC8nyrFqQpPZ7lDG3IuUWB3CujqQdTRL80aq4HoViJ6nPLMKNi9r8rp4ucYOuQMeWTi79oMrN=s1500" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLxxJEUjZzLpkb2gWfpo6NjcZfvcdyKfbFb_7ITIoVe2-k5t-5uyDky9O_2wXZHMEkwZ6_jf-jbBGWIrFIyqKSPA04-f7POxh9rCS4FmOYGCmDmnkmC8nyrFqQpPZ7lDG3IuUWB3CujqQdTRL80aq4HoViJ6nPLMKNi9r8rp4ucYOuQMeWTi79oMrN=s320" width="213" /></span></a></div><br /><p></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-1264946094517057722021-10-24T22:34:00.004+01:002021-10-25T00:03:56.047+01:00CRISTOBELL UNEDITED<p><span style="font-size: large;">I have been writing a blog every week but they sit, unpublished, due to an elongated attack of timidity. Elongated in the sense that it has gone on for months, maybe because I am too lazy to go back and edit them, or maybe because I think huh, who cares what I think, so there's a bit of 'poor me' in there too. Cristobell timid, 'pah' I hear my critics say, but a slight timidity seems to have crept in since I let my hair go white. Where once I would have happily led the charge, and chucked on a bit of dynamite, now I think, nah, let someone else do it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I can still have a moan! As in, Oh dear God, every nightmare I imagine when Boris Johnson when the last election is coming to fruition. The desolation I felt that night and since stays within like constant ache. I blame only myself, I was wrong to have put so much hope and faith into the people of this country to vote for a fairer society for all. Jeremy Corbyn was the best leader we could have ever had. He wanted to fight for the many, not the few, he wanted to bring about real changes, the kind of changes that would propel Great Britain back into the forefront of advanced societies. Hard to believe the rest of the world once looked to GB as a beacon of hope because of it's NHS, Welfare State, care of it's citizens from cradle to grave.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The rise of the 'Right', and yes there has been a huge surge since Brexit, is taking this country down a very dangerous and frightening path. Nothing good ever comes to a country who takes on an isolationist stance. Firstly, it's a tad arrogant, as in 'right you shower of thieving bastards' (anyone outside of our island), we are shutting up shop, drawing up the gates' and will manage on our own, thank you very much'. Any local village idiot will tell you that kind of thinking is doomed to go horribly wrong. We are seeing the results. Not only the daily shortages of products on our shelves, but the collapse of major industries because of a shortage of staff. Big private industries who often deserve what they get, but also major care providers and of course the NHS. The dim tory twits who thought getting rid of all the migrant workers would cause a huge surge in applications from the indigenous population made basic and stupid, fundamental errors. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They have only themselves to blame. Decades of social engineering and capitalist indoctrination has given them the voters they wanted. Generations now have been taught to aspire to greed. Greed is good, Greed works. Your quarter pounder not big enough? Let me go ahead and pile another one top. When I read 1984* (communist parody) and Brave New World** (capitalist parody) back to back, I thought Brave New World was more likely, here in the 'west' anyway, China, North Korea, more '1984'. Honestly not sure whether to add 2021 Russia in there too.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, we took the 'capitalist' path, and very nice it has been too. I remember my pure joy at owning my first car, my first home, my first Charlotte Tilbury palette. It is with immense pleasure that I remember every twinkly, sparkly object I ever set eyes on. Still holding out for a Faberge Egg. But the communist, marxist, socialist and tree hugger inside of me, pulls hard, as in, a little voice says 'ffs, you don't need to put on lipstick to take the rubbish out!'. I'm sure I would be a much better feminist if I stopped trying to look so girly. Yes, friends, enemies and curious onlookers, glitter has no age limit! I kind of sense a collective shudder there, lol.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But back to politics. Sadly our enjoyment of all that glitters, has hidden reality. That is the true cost of all our pleasures. People and animals, must suffer in order to bring a momentary smile to our spoilt faces. Capitalism exploits workers, that's it in a nutshell, no other way of interpreting it. Capitalists strive for profit, it helps if they refer to workers as units, it takes away their humanity, they want optimum production for minimum outlay. Now they are they are just maths figures on a whiteboard, who give a f, eh? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The biggest mystery is how this privileged tory elite have managed to persuade the masses (mostly poor) to vote them? Simple, and perhaps genius, they persuaded those masses to want the same things they did (without a hope in hell of getting them). It's been a good decade for them actually, Trump opened the door to saying out loud every nasty, sadistic thought those closet racists and almighty snobs ever had and get cheered for it! Enter GB News. My jaw, it must be said, is still dragging on the floor after hearing that horrendous commentator (no, I can't be arsed to look her up or repeat her name) say refugees who take a chance on the channel should be left to drown. I had a flashback to a 14 year old me reading Auschwitz and being overwhelmed with sorrow by the evil that existed in this world. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I used to describe myself on my AOL profile as a Marxist/Feminist. It was a hilarious introduction to social media all those years ago - so many assumed, that I was a tattooed, shaven headed, dungeree wearing throwback from Greenham Common. Yes, my old friends who still read here, I remember lol. Of course, I identified more with Hyacinth Bouquet (though she was far better dressed than I), but on hostessing skills, she was a woman after my own heart. Outwardly, I have always been more Margaret Thatcher than Janice Joplin, ergo the confusion over my politics. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But let's get back to this whole swing to the Right, disturbing as that is. I am not really in touch with young people just now, which is a shame, but I would love to know what the general ideology is? I was greatly heartened by the amazing young people running and participating in Momentum in the Jeremy campaign. I hear fellow oldies complain about the young, but I am dazzled by their knowledge, their enthusiasm and their good hearts. They are driven by love, care and duty to their families, their neighbours, their communities and of course, the wider world around us. I was truly heartbroken when Jeremy didn't win (last time!), but I know that with the good people following in his path it will happen one day. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Boris Johnson is Britain First Lite. The hateful fascism of so many around us that we didn't fecking know. So much of it hidden in so many closets, and the naive, including myself, just didn't know. I'm always looking for the best in people, so I'm like a big kid, look for the good in them I tell myself, find common ground. They think detention camps for aliens are a good thing, I think puppies and kittens are just adorable. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have spent the last year, heck, 18 months or more with my head fully imbedded in the sand. I wanted to reach that stage where I could genuinely say, 'I couldn't care less'. As a manic depressive it is really easy to reach that stage where my brain overloads if I think about trauma etc too much. I have experienced it on several occasions. Happily I seem to have developed some soothing braincells who overcome the 'yeah go wild braincells' with recommendations of 'Seinfeld' or 'Father Ted'. Prior to that, it was the 'Odd Couple' and 'Some Like it Hot' - common denominator, Jack Lemmon, I luvvved him! Now why couldn't I ever had met a man like that! Arms folded in a huff smiley! Prior to that it was gin and lots of drugs, will save that for another day.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But before I go, I will give a shout out to all those who still agree with all the principles we, the Brits, fought two world wars for. We are anti fascist, anti dictatorship, yet we are following the path of the most successful fascist in modern history. Hitler isolated Germany, Hitler built up the arms industry, Hitler manipulated his people into a compliant voting mass. Not my fault, everyone did it, said the voters. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is a social faux pas to bring up Hitler in a political argument, according to Godwins Law, but isn't it fucking scary that commentators care more about a social media law, than the facts and reality staring in their faces. I am not one to go down the conspiracy theory road, but it would not be hard to believe that Putin is presently pulling Boris Johnson's strings. He has lost his clown in the White House, but, just for laughs, he has an imbecile in No.10 also willing to destroy his country to hide whatever the feck Putin has on him. (my bet would be pig head fecking). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I was a child of the sixties! I grew up when Engerland swung like a pendum doo, bobbies on bicycles two by two. Carnaby Street was the grooviest place on earth! The best and the brightest headed to the United Kingdom, just as they had in the centuries that preceded them. Why? Because we had dear old Harold Wilson and a socialist government. Jeremy could have done the same and more, but the Labour party was infested with Establishment moles, fully imbedded in the right to privilege ideology. People who were never, ever, going to allow non career politicians into their party. Get out those who rose up through the Unions or their trades, let's make the House of Commons pretty much wholly public school educated. Let's take away the working class voice. Jeremy Corbyn opened all our eyes to the brighter future we could have, he exposed all those lies that kept us all so obediently poor. He told us 'No, it doesn't have to be this way'. The 'Establishment', not just the tories but sooo many Labour MPs, set out to destroy Jeremy. Personally, I can never forgive them.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">From a waffling perspective, please ffs, rise up rise, you young and enthusiastic. Know if this were a superhero war, your skills and talents will be needed to prevent any holocausts ever happening again. I bless your parents for bringing you the right way, for teaching you kindness, compassion and a sense of justice. I chuckle at my fading abilities to be as concise and articulate as I once was, but I am cheered that there are so many talented and kind young people out there, I'm pretty sure they will do better than the previous generations.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Goodnight dear readers. I am putting this out, unedited, please forgive me. I'm sure I will delete it all if I do that. Be quiet those shouting, 'quite rightly' at the back. Sweet dreams.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-70693561194211666852021-08-21T19:59:00.000+01:002021-08-21T19:59:35.391+01:00WHY CAN'T THE ENGLISH TEACH THEIR CHILDREN HOW TO SPEAK?<p><span style="font-size: large;"> I have meant to write a blog on this subject for years, but I figured I was already hated enough, and my views on the topic might raise more than a few heckles. Now I take on the fierce pride of the cockneys, scousers and jocks, what's wrong with speaking 'working class' they will say. They are proud of their roots, they speak like their parents, their grandparents and all the working class generations that went before them. I see the noble ideology behind their arguments, but let me put forward an alternative, actually I will stop pussyfooting around, let me put forward the radical thoughts of Professor Henry Higgins* together with a few of my own. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I can see now how lucky I was to have a mother who didn't give two hoots about codes, conventions or how a mother or a woman should behave. She was Irish, but she spoke like the Queen, her accent was the first thing she ditched when she got off the boat at Hollyhead, aged 15. Of course, it was a different story at home, where she was more like a giggly playmate, both my brother and I were born in her teen years, but in public, out and about and on the phone, she was a loud formidable 'English' woman, no-one dared speak down to her. As a small child, I was in awe of her powers, She had a beautiful, strong, almost melodic voice and she pronounced every word correctly. She was a huge fan of Patsy Cline and could sound just like her. She may have been considered as mad as a box of frogs, by some, but no-one ever took her for a fool. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My dear old mum was kind of savvy, she knew she would be treated better with an English accent than she would with an Irish accent. Such were the times, 'no blacks, no dogs, no Irish'. And we lived in Virginia Water, one of England's 'poshest' areas, which helpfully polished both her accent and mine. Yes, like most daughters, I grew up sounding exactly like my mother! I have a posh accent. Not because I was born into millions, but by the way I was raised. I copied my mad mum. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Professor Higgins was right, it wasn't Eliza Doolittle's dirty face and wretched clothing that would keep her in the gutter, it was her awful strangulation of the English language. He made a bet to turn a guttersnipe into a princess, simply by teaching her to speak properly. Ok, the George Bernard Shaw play was set in the early 1900s, but the arguments surrounding regional and, err, uneducated dialects, still apply today. We don't need the academic background of Professor Higgins to sum a person up, like a psychic at a fairground, we take in an awful lot with that first impression. Where do they come from, are they rich/poor, educated/uneducated, an alpha personality or a follower, outward appearance, kempt or unkempt, happy or sad? A bit daunting to think of it like that for anyone going to an interview, but we carry so much with us that we are unaware of. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Without a doubt, a person who speaks well, be it male or female, becomes significantly more attractive. They have no need to tell the world they come from a long line of washer uppers. They have worked on their voice and speech just as much as they have worked on their hair and body. So I wonder why so many young women go to so much trouble with their appearance, yet totally neglect their voices. It's 'Did you truly fly in from Paradise? Nah, Luton Airport' all over again. Where that old ad was ironic, this new trend to sound ignorant and lacking in vocabulary while dolled up to the nines, is heartfelt and done with conviction. The few words they have they chop in half, my personal favourite is 'well gell', the result you are going for. As in 'feck off, your eyebrows look more like caterpillars than mine, you're just well gell'. I just don't see hedge fund managers and yacht owners lining up for a date here. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I read an article in the Guardian many years ago, sadly I cannot remember the name of the writer, but she pointed out the importance of speaking well, especially in a face to face interview. So many candidates fail simply by having such terrible communication skills. The point of communication is to get the message across with clarity, to everyone, not just those who speak the same dialect as yourself. Being precious about your accent and working class roots is not a good way in which to advance, as Jane Austin might say. I also told my sons, if you can't take her to the Ambassador's Ball, where they serve Ferrero Rocher on silver trays, think again. Whilst it is sweet to have a limited vocabulary at 16, it is moronic past your 30's. How to increase your vocabulary? Read, read, read. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Kids who go to public schools speak well from a very early age. So even at a very early age, they have an advantage over their peers in the overcrowded State schools. Teaching your child how to speak, how to communicate is the best gift you can ever give them. It is lifelong, but in the early days, bad behaviour, temper tantrums, screaming and writhing on the floor, can be avoided if they can communicate exactly what it is they want. Note. this is not foolproof, especially in public places like supermarkets where most tots have figured out, they have their parents hostage. Their cute little faces look at you and say, 'put the bag of sweets in the cart or all hell breaks loose! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Chatting with your kids is, I think, one of life's greatest joys, they think you are wonderful and believe everything you say. That stops around age 11. Try to get into them all the important things, like good manners and the advantages of being able to speak well. It's hard with a busy life to find time just to chat. As a young mum, I read an article that suggested quality time and I followed it to the letter. I stopped wracking myself with guilt for working and always being busy, the designated quality time took a load off. That aside, kids can do find other ways to torment you with guilt, it's their greatest weapon.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It saddens me to see young mums playing with their phones, while their babies are gurgling and cooing and reaching out to them for attention. Babies think you are more wonderful than their older siblings, they never take their eyes off you, you should be singing, dancing, juggling and telling them all about the mushed up goo you are about to feed them. Their time in the highchair is very limited, so spare them the machinations of the Labour party and the back stabbing of Jeremy Corbyn, that's better suited for your mutt, who doesn't care what you have to say, as long as it has a sausage with it. But Boris is at least quite comical and could easily slip in alongside the telly tubbies. Of course it matters not what you say, but how you say it and how your little bundle of cuddles has your full, undivided attention. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I feel like I am an old voice, lost in the wilderness, when I am wincing at the dumbed down celebrities who have so much influence over the next generations. My views probably belong in a byegone age, where speaking properly was more of a class thing along with top hats and cloth caps. Everyone knew their place and there was an active dislike of classes outside of your own. Speaking well was scorned and mocked unless you came from the right background. The language of the streets was territorial, no outsiders. Ok, to tip your hat to upper classes (while despising them), but the middle classes were fair game, not far enough away from their humble births to protect them from scorn. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There is no shame in coming from a working class background, especially if you are successful, because you got where are on your own. Self made is more formidable than nepotism and inheritance. But you are the result of previous generations taking steps to change their destiny, and yours. Those who survived are those who adapted and changed, they didn't hold onto their working class roots, their hovels and backbreaking jobs. They became educated, they ensured their children were educated, they ditched the language of the ghettos and the war zones of their neighbourhoods (unless of course they became rappers in which case they became millionaires). I'm speaking figuratively of course, and in jest, you simply can't make a good impression on anyone, least of all an interviewer, if you tell her you are well gell of her Jimmi Choos. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't demand that everyone speak in the standard English of the old BBC and 'Listen with Mother' and I don't hate (all) regional accents. Sean Connery (Scots), Richard Burton (Welsh), Father Ted Crilly (Irish), all with voices that would make a girl swoon. But cockney, awful, especially when exaggerated to sound like a sarf London thug or a terminally miserable actor from Eastenders. Shudders. Fine line between cheeky chappy and creep. Scouser, hmmm, was mad about Paul McCartney singing, not so much when he spoke, but have never got drunk with a scouser, so will have to reserve judgment. Elvis had me with hello.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Language I fear is disappearing, text speak, the shortening of words, the replacement of language with emojis. Are children still being taught to write? Have books and pens been swapped for screens and computers? What brave new world is this? To be fair, I don't actually fear that future generations can be dumbed down. Each of them has on their phone, high tech computers that will give them an answer to any question they have, and within seconds. Logic would predict they will be more enlightened than any generation that has gone before. Ha ha, that argument sounded intelligent, until I remember the US voted for Trump and the UK voted for Boris Johnson. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Have I turned into an old crone? Am I out of sync with the rest of the world? Ok, yes I am. I want kids to speak properly, I want young girls to know how much more beautiful they would be if they fine tuned and harmonised their voices. If they made their voices as pretty as their faces. It is really hard not to correct the bad English of others, the old school marm in me just won't go away. That part of me is now in the pile labelled 'beyond my control', let them speak as they wish (while quietly sobbing). The world is full of Eliza Doolittles, beautiful young women who could increase their potential exponentially, simply by speaking properly. And by potential, I mean, the job they want to get, the man they want to marry, the life they want to have. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, I know that does indeed sound so very last century, and I maybe watch too many historic dramas (wish bowing would come back), but I see nothing wrong with refining every part of yourself as you go through life's journey. By refinement, I mean not just our outward appearance, but also those troubled parts of our characters (zen?) and our voices. do we sound as if we are in the middle of a mental breakdown, or totally chilled and under control. Of course most of us learn how to manipulate our voices to get what we want during the toddler stage. Some, sadly, keep the same tricks past 40, which is particularly creepy. I have a pet hatred of grown women who speak with little girl voices, grr</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I have waffled on too much, I will end with a video clip, enjoy: </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAYUuspQ6BY</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-2531542330827351112021-08-13T21:38:00.002+01:002021-08-13T21:50:00.528+01:00WHO OFFERS THE BEST HEAVEN? After 64 you need to choose, a fun look at the options<p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBUkCx4FdohYiHLSp-lN2B1_SRfPagfgq0lhtjqrVgXOpP16m0HUFbbvMKZ-8VMQpzbfKq2EaX0SD6NH292Ej5bdUXbsvcP2-hBMSBoiTYT7dTjEdimlhpaMJyrDXkxZcypbJq9R-nXM/s2640/20210710_181507.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1980" data-original-width="2640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBUkCx4FdohYiHLSp-lN2B1_SRfPagfgq0lhtjqrVgXOpP16m0HUFbbvMKZ-8VMQpzbfKq2EaX0SD6NH292Ej5bdUXbsvcP2-hBMSBoiTYT7dTjEdimlhpaMJyrDXkxZcypbJq9R-nXM/s320/20210710_181507.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Several months ago, or it even more, I can't really remember, I decided to change my philosophy of life, whatever it may have been, after sweetness and light, wink wink. I decided to go with, arguably the greatest philosopher, thinker and music maker and Liverpudlian, Mr. John Lennon. As a schoolboy he stated the purpose of life was to be happy. His teacher scolded him and told him he didn't understand the assignment, he told her, she didn't understand life. Quite.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It really is that simple, I just wish I had known it at the start of mine, that is before being indoctrinated with the Catholic ideology of guilt. Took a lifetime to discover we were not actually put on this earth to suffer pain and misery for some distant reward in heaven. That is a terrible purpose/philosophy, reason for living. But a very good philosophy for keeping peasants subdued and working ever harder. The rich man in his castle, the poor man in the field, all things bright and beautiful for sure. There is God telling us the way things should be, it was <i>his</i> will, not the will of the greedy elite, nothing to do with them. Religion preserves the status quo, the class system, the establishment. Blair claimed not 'to do' religion, but as soon as he left office, he got baptized and hung religious icons in all his homes. Something scared the bejesus out of him. The thought of bumping into that shite in the next life, heavenly as it may be, does not appeal.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is for this reason I have now decided to follow the old religion of the Norsemen! Yeah baby, the Vikings (still obsessed with them, red faced smiley). To be fair, I have always hedged my bets on religion, I can go from athiest, to agnostic, to screaming 'Dear God' in the Catholic sense, on any given day. At this end of life, I'm carefully looking at the options available at the end. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">With the Catholic route, the journey to heaven is pretty much defined, live a clean life, no sinful partying, drug taking or killing your father and mother. Ahh, but if you do, the Good Lord loves the fallen, and if you repent the weed and lines you did before stepping in front of that bus, you're still good to go to heaven. But, I've never really liked the idea of heaven that much on the basis that it would be full of do gooders telling you how good they were in life. They will have big long lists of all their public do gooding and abstinence. All the while looking down on you for smoking, drinking, partying and maybe even pushing your folks off a hill, for, well, all eternity. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hell meanwhile, doesn't seem that bleak. Ok, there's the excessive heat and all that, but it is going to be full of all the heroes and anti heroes you never got to hang out with in real life. I usually compare it to pubs these days, that is all the fun people are outside shivering under an umbrella in order to have a smoke, no flames per se but maybe an outdoor heater provided by a kindly landlord. Smokers probably spend more at the bar. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Buddhism I have also dabbled in, if you call a Dali Lama quote each day dabbling. I nearly got enticed into the whole you need Buddhism in your life, in a South London pub several decades ago. Mischievously, I took my then boyfriend into a pub where I knew my old boyfriend would be. I knew exactly what would happen, but I was still that naughty little girl who carried a mouse in my pocket for shock value. It was pretty much like a fight scene from the old wild west, furniture and fists flying. I was 'rescued' by a table full of buddhists who sensed I needed a bit of peace in my life. I was 'Ooh two men fought over me' and I couldn't wait to tell my mates. It was pure 'mean girl', my ex used to describe me as 'Aunt Sally' to his Worzel Gummidge, always looking for an opportunity to be mean to him. To be fair, he gave as good as he got, probably why we stayed together for so long. Now, I think, I would just go straight for the ice pick. I jest, have you ever tried digging a patio?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Valhalla and the Norse religion offer a pretty good deal. Drink as much as you like, eat magic mushrooms and partake of anything edible that gets you high, covet whoever or whatever you like, dress like a gladiator (yes, girls too), die fighting (with your sword in your hand) and return to Valhalla the next day to do the same all over again. Bliss! OK, can't say I am enamoured of the 'fighting' every day, not with my feet, but I am hoping the long white hair might qualify me as a shield maiden.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Which leads me nicely onto the hair and the above pic. To cut or not to cut? All the pandemic I cussed at the tragedy of not being able to go and get my hair done. Ergo, it has grown and grown and with my frequent use of blue shampoo, is now blue. Strangely, the boldness of the colour has given me a new lease of life. A kind of inner 'come on old girl, it aint over yet', there is no law that states you have to get your hair cut short and permed. And no reason to start buying granny clothes and hobbling. To be fair, I do have an involuntary hobble (bunion) and I lean towards 'sensible' in the clothes department. On the clothes front I did gaze longingly at a full length pink fairy dress with layers of crinoline and puffed sleeves on a market stall, but then I thought, where am I, aged 64 with a dodgy hip, going to wear a Cinderella dress? I then had visions of Bette Davis as Baby Jane and swiftly moved on. I can hear the shudders at the back there, ha ha. </span><span>My memory is not great either, perhaps why I momentarily thought a pink ball gown was just what I needed. I also keep losing words, which is dashed annoying, but happily the oldy worldy ones are still imbedded, probably because they were planted there in my youth, and they are a bit more profound, 'forsooth' for example, can be worked into any conversation.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For those who care, I have not been unhappy in my long absence from my blog. This was the first time in my adult life that I haven't been obsessed with writing. Naturally I went through all the 'tortured artiste, writer's block stuff - writers can think up all sorts of ways in which to torment themselves, I'm an A* at it. But eventually that particular cloud lifted, I stopped caring that I couldn't write, I started to enjoy other things, binge watching especially, oh the joy of historic drama. But also I am having lovely days out visiting castles and stately homes and ticking boxes.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I dropped the cooking and the ridiculous grocery shopping, there's only me, and M&S make spag bol and macaroni cheese just as well I do! I feel like one of the last people in the universe to get that you don't have to stand over a hot stove every day or prepare everything from scratch in the 21st century. Doh! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But back to the hair, I think I have decided I am not going to get it cut, leaving as is, feels a bit rebellious and I like that. I'm going to enjoy it, it is the hair of a Viking queen or a Tagarean - yes was also addicted to GOT*. On the religious front, forget Catholicism, so too Buddhism, just like the Catholics, again with the misery, all recurring lives are miserable until you get it right. The boyfight alone will bring me back as a gnat or a toad, not a Viking queen I fear. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I think we should be able to select which heaven we want to go to, kind of like choosing life insurance or a new car. Ok, so what do you God, or Gods, have to offer for a lifetime of worship? I feel they should have show houses of what you are going to get for all that praying, kneeling and sacrificing? I mean dahlink, are there swimming pools, stables maybe, banquets, diamonds, jewels, an ocean view? A slice of chocolate cake for that time when you went to church and put 50p in the collection box. Quid per quo, what's in it for me?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And let's be fair, has anyone ever seen the fine print, all the byelaws, outlaws and inlaws, involved in having the paperwork to get past gatekeeper St. Paul (or is St. Peter) outside those pearly gates? God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost (never understood the Trinity) have a record of every bad deed you have ever done. That includes running over a mouse trying to cross the road. I honestly didn't see him until it was too late and I still weep for his little mouse family waiting for him to come home. In my defence I did once call out an emergency vet at 2.00am for my son's sick hamster. He didn't make it, poor Conan but we were all with him at the end, not to mention he also left with a hefty vet bill. My treatment of humans may warrant a few Xs on the naughty list, but if there is a priest around I can get forgiveness for that by repenting. Maybe that's what I dislike about Catholicism, you can live your life as a complete b'stard and a word in a priest's ear can get you past the post.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Today I choose the Gods of the Vikings. I want to go Valhalla and party with Odin, Thor, Freya and that naughty old Loki. They really know how to party and fight! One rule is that you have to die with your sword in your hand. I don't have a sword, but I do have a very good butter knife and wonder if that will suffice? Hopefully the Gods are a little less particular these days. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Tonight, I say to you all, SKOL. My kindest wishes to all those who still look in and wonder what I am up to. I think the writing itch is gradually creeping back and hope someone, anyone, lol, will pop on and say hello. Please no rants or nasties, I have in my head at least, moved onto a 'happy land' and what I'd like more than anything is just a chat, especially about hair, eyelashes and nails. That's who I am now :)</span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-45646130402861610222021-08-01T18:48:00.001+01:002021-08-01T19:19:48.653+01:00Climbing a bit further up the fence; Just musing, masks, socialists and feck Jess Phillips *unedited)<p><span style="font-size: large;">Again on social media the radical anti maskers and anti vaxxers (mostly the Far Right) are making the biggest racket about the very small inconvenience of wearing a mask and getting a vaccine. Ok, wearing a mask is a pain, especially for we oldies as they cruelly expose all the wrinkles around the eye area and make your nose run, but so what, science says they work. I know science also says masks protect others from you, that is your breath and globules, but I <i>feel</i> they protect me too, so much so, I may just carry on wearing them forever, and wish I had had them when travelling to work on crowded trains and buses. In those up close and personal situations, you had a constant whiff of whatever exotic meal the person breathing down your neck had the night before. Oh garlic, I cuss you!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On the vaccine front, yeah fair dues, there is a one in a hundred zillion chance that this incompetent government led by Boris (bring back chain gangs) Johnson is trying to inject the masses with a liquid mind controlling implant developed by Bill Gates, but if you bring logic into he equation, it's just not possible. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And on the vaccine front - think historically. Imagine ordinary people at the height of the 1918 Spanish flu, where 50million died, being offered a free vaccine that would stop them dying? Is it possible any of them would refuse it ? They may have been simple people - by todays standards, but they wore masks and took precautions, ironic that they would now look on us as chimpanzees for not only refusing it but making a song and dance about it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The pandemic in the USA, is now the pandemic of unvaccinated. The hardest hit areas are those in 'Trump country'. That's not me being political, it's a fact that the biggest indicator of of the unvaccinated is they voted for Trump. Traditionally, the UK follow the trends of the US, usually several years later, but more recently with our own instalment of a Trump Mini Me, Boris Johnson, as Prime Minister. We are catching up rapidly.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But from contemporary history to present times, a very wise man, a successful double glazing salesman, I know sounds like an oxymoron, but let's just say he acquired a lot of wisdom. 'The answer to EVERY question is money' was an inspirational quote he threw out there. I was intrigued by that statement, not sure I believed it, or if I wanted to believe it. But time has proven, again and again, that that hardbitten DG salesman, had more of a handle on life than all the philosophers I had read.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There is no doubt, that money was/is the answer to every one of life's questions and Trump's crimes, that's how it is with greedy narcissistic people. They need the cash and luxuries because no-one likes them. The UK version Boris too, was spending inordinate amounts of money on takeaways, Ok, a bit of a Billy Bunter comparison, Boris was/is guilty of so much more than being a fat public schoolboy, using his obvious ineptitude as a front to cover up his slimy amassing of vast amounts of (taxpayers) cash. He, the narcissistic Boris, is soothing his fragile ego with all he stows away. Maybe he plans a bath covered in thousand dollar notes with slaves telling him how wonderful he is - who know wtf money grabbing bastards dream about, the only constant is that history records them exactly as they were/are.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> Boris bizarrely, is wiser (I know sounds weird) than Trump, in that he doesn't openly want to despise and blame immigrants and poor people, he gets those around him to do it for him. He remains the kindly, jovial nation's Uncle and we all hate Priti Patel. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Those people telling others not to wear masks and not to get vaccinated make the news for all the wrong reasons. That maniac at last week's rally, no, can't be arsed to look her up, claiming nurses and doctors were hung following the Nuremburg Trials. As if all those valiant NHS staff we were all applauding last year, were complicit in some sort of Dr. Evil plan. Where tf did these people park their brains? Or did they just toss them out when they found a new controversial leader to follow? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm with Nietzsche on the whole make your own decisions, be your own self, philosophy? Do we really need a God or a higher power? Someone 'wiser' than us to tell us how to lead our lives? Pah, say I, that's an idea I have always scoffed at. Probably why I had such a hard time in the convent. I saw myself as a martyr, of the Christian variety naturally, I had very limited reading material, but for the opposite cause. In that, what if I don't believe Jesus came back from the dead? What if I don't believe God created the world in 7 days? What if I believe all you holy moleys with your hands clasped in prayer and your eyes looking up to the heavens are a load of phoney shites? Wasn't I a martyr, one who stood against the dominant ideology, and was beaten for it? Maybe I did believe in God, maybe I thought he (all powerful and could see the truth) would step in at any moment and protest the injustice of it all! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The problem I have with all those 'telling us what we should do (get the vaccine ;) ) is their assumption that they know best, they know, better than we do, what is best for us, and what direction our lives should take. I guess if you have got that 'leadership gene' in you, it is kind of frustrating now to find a 'cause' to lead. How do you become the new Virginia Woolf or Cristabel Pankhurst (no, not where I got my writing name from, but a virtual Nebuchadnezzar of champagne to anyone who can name the origin correctly :) )</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We skoff, quite rightly, at those seeking fame at any price. but for the sake of being controversial, aren't we looking in the wrong places for heroes, heroines and role models? It pains me, physically pains me, that we are putting the worst, the absolute worse, on pedestals as examples of how we should lead our lives. Lack of education, lack of vocabulary is, for some fffd up reason, being celebrated and pushed to the forefront of this 'Woke' culture we are all being herded into. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i>I have long wanted to do a blog entitled 'Why can't the English teach their children how to speak' My hesitance was down to the quote's origins? George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, the divine Rex Harrison film version or, as it turns out Alan-Jay Lerner. Whatever, the sentiments, I wholeheartedly agree with them. Isn't it our duty as parents to give our children the absolute best means of communication. Why limit their vocabulary? Both my sons went through nursery and school relatively trauma free, due to their ability to talk their way out. Teach your kids to fight, even to this day, is a common doctrine, tut tut tut, teach your kids to win, without being physically assaulted or physically assaulting others, those principles have longevity and, dare I say it, honour.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But returning to speech, I have to have a wee bash. Not quite ready for a full assault on the pride of the working classes, but building myself up towards it. Mostly because I have stood silent as 'language' as we know it, is again, being changed, unbeknown to most of us, by a malignant influence that is trying to whitewash our past and everything we learned during the enlightenment..... Moi, who is presently really into the Renaissance, is just seeing history repeat itself over and over. re</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I love language, I love dialects, I especially love dialects that are put into a written form that we can all understand. I hate censorship, I hate that Alex Scott was criticised for presentation. She won her spot 'there', more fairly, some might say than most of the tory twats who usually present the news. That's not the norm, that's not what thrust her into the spotlight. Go her, say I. But she has real achievements that support her success. Sadly, and back to reality, her sisters competing in the job market and real world, need the ability to pronounce words correctly and a vast vocabulary. I really don't get this pride in sounding as if you are mentally retarded. See Katie Price.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>This week, my Leftist, Marxist credentials are being put to the test, and I am failing expotentially, lol. True, I don't have the energy anymore for anything radical, but I am still politically homeless. I will love Jeremy Corbyn til the day I die, but I simply cannot support the snakes that went out of their way to make sure Jeremy Corbyn wouldn't win. They committed the crime of the century, they enabled a government who wouldn't give a damn about a global pandemic. How the f can I see any sort of socialist rescue of the masses, from the mememe antics of the Labour Right (yes, you Jess Phillips). F*** the lot of you Labour 'leadership', you have betrayed oldies like me, but worse, you accursed wannabe tories, have betrayed the next generation and future </span><span>generations of socialists to come. You, yes you Jess Phillips, who agreed to doff the cap, and cuddled up with Jason Rees-Mogg. have aspired, agreed with, and embraced tory ideology to such an extent that you actively worked against a genuine Labour (in the true sense of the word) candidate. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jess Phillips is the face of everything that promotes 'elevating the 'chav'. She is so desperate to promote that her supporters are working class, that she goes out of her way to pretend she is exactly like them. But she's not. She went into higher education, she wrote her essays in the Queen's English, language and grammar that gave her the degree she sought. She <i>knows </i>that you cannot succeed in life without being able to communicate effectively. If she was honest, she would tell those youngsters in her constituency to speak properly and widen their vocabulary if they seek high level jobs!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">OK, I can accept that Katie Price speaks like a moron to boost her followers and 'likes' presumably because it is popular, but there is something a bit yucky about a Member of Parliament boasting they are just as thick. Yes, Jess Phillips, I again refer to you. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm psyching myself up for a 'why can't the English teach their children how to speak blog, also a feck off 'Me Too' blog and an anti 'poor me' shite blog. Watch this space, lol. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sorry about the lack of pics, watch this space ha, ha.</span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-16434360331429524202021-07-31T18:23:00.002+01:002021-07-31T18:23:42.474+01:00OVER THE GARDEN FENCE - THIS WEEK, THE HEROES, RUN HARRY, PSYCHOTIC ANTI MASKERS and VAXXERS<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HI5EYNoeE-9OFWvGhTtKdPTaWLwmI7-B1kgZnLu5C_CyCwSLhK0FJeIPJ6WevRaaz9ervYTkNsgNeI3wZHNP6vauxDppEDEd1UFH-AY_3ua_pmySQ7eqq189na2O5Sp1zgFgstOtAQE/s652/Dorothy+Parker+quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="652" data-original-width="626" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HI5EYNoeE-9OFWvGhTtKdPTaWLwmI7-B1kgZnLu5C_CyCwSLhK0FJeIPJ6WevRaaz9ervYTkNsgNeI3wZHNP6vauxDppEDEd1UFH-AY_3ua_pmySQ7eqq189na2O5Sp1zgFgstOtAQE/s320/Dorothy+Parker+quote.jpg" width="307" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><u>BRAVO the heroes and heroines of the RNLI</u></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">So good to see the huge wave of support for the RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Institution) this week on social media, for me it proved that the majority support compassion, humanity and bravery, not the petty spitefulness towards immigrants of Priti Patel and Nigel Farage. I have nothing but admiration for those poor souls, so desperate, yet so determined to find a better life. The far Right try to portray immigrants as ne'er do wells and scroungers who will somehow lower the quality of life of the indigenous English. Coming over here, opening new business (when did a local start a new business in his/her err, locality?), with their working every hour under the sun ethics and their crazy ideas that this is a land of opportunity, how dare they! They must be hated and blamed for, well, everything. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Run Harry</u></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't like Meghan Markle. There I said it. If a man had taken a woman away from his family and friends, and indeed, taken total control of her life, we would all be saying OMG what a control freak, run. Harry is clearly not the captain of his own ship or master of his own fate, if he were, he would not have spent his first 35 years under the control of the House of Windsor. that he now claims he hated. He wasn't actually imprisoned in any of those castles, he had a massive fortune and an indulgent Granny with the ability to grant him any title, role or job he wanted. Of course what he was really looking for was love, in the same way as a 'Tim, nice but dim' aristo, or more like a Bertie Wooster without a Jeeves. Enter Meghan actively looking for a wealthy English man, poor Harry never stood a chance.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, I have a soft spot for Harry and William, ever since their heart breaking walk behind their mother's coffin, I think we all have. But it is more of a tragedy that Harry is living with someone who sees that tragic moment as a continued source of income. Having indulged in every form of navel gazing known to man (and woman), I can safely and assuredly say, ffs let it go and move on, is the best and swiftest form of recovery. Grown men blaming their current lives and decisions on imagined slights from their childhood, are, well pathetic. Harry the narcissist, found someone willing to listen to all his 'poor me' stories and inner thoughts, step 2 in how to make someone love you guides. Or something you pay a counsellor 50/100 quid an hour for. Someone who not only listened to his inane ramblings 24/7 but someone who agreed with everything he said and saw the inane ramblings of a Prince as a 4 book deal worth $20million. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And before anyone attacks me for being an establishment tool, as if, lol, I went right off Meghan when I saw how callously she treated (and still is), her poor old dad. A figure who was far more constant in her life (yes, I read Lady C et al books) than her mother - the only family member invited to her wedding. Now she has cut her husband off from his family, I don't know how anyone could be comfortable with that. Unfortunately, now Harry really doesn't have a way out. He is more trapped in his mansion in California than he ever was with multiple castles available to him. Ce le vie.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Over the Garden Fence</u></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But this is not a 'hate Meghan' blog, just me in my curlers and pinny chatting to my neighbour over the garden fence. Or a 'if you haven't got anything nice to say, come sit beside me'. Now was that Oscar Wilde, or Dorothy Parker? On that I am enjoying the take down of Donald Trump and his awful family. And that's not like me. I'm not really into retribution, it goes against my nature, when it comes to the crunch I'm more likely to say, slap on wrist and don't it again. Maybe because all the new revelations of his crimes and the prosecutions in motion, seem distant as if he is still untouchable. I think the reality will kick in when an actual 'Trump' is seen in handcuffs. Oooh Err.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><u>On Masks and Vaccines</u></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The eejits have been out in force this week demanding their 'rights', as if this totally incompetent tory government would have the wit to use a viral pandemic to 'control us'. Does anyone think there is an evil genius among them (the Bullingdon Boys) capable of organising virtual control of the masses? Boris was talking about chain gangs only the other day! One is a step forward in evolution, albeit scary, one is a step back in time, which option is a hang 'em and flog 'em' tory (most of them) likely to take?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have had both vaccinations, and very grateful I was too. I also continue to wear a mask in indoor public places and I hope the non maskers and non vaxxers, respect my personal choices. I have noticed in shops, some employees wear masks, some don't. Presumably large retailers are leaving it up to individuals. Sadly, it is the psychotic anti maskers and anti vaxxers, we need to avoid, their demand to let people know they are not robots by making a racket about it, is providing Covid-19 with new hosts. I read a moving account by a doctor of a Covid ICU ward, where patients being intubated were begging for the vaccine, and she had to tell them it was too late. I urge everyone to get vaccinated and to persuade others too, those heart wrenching moments in the ICU wards don't have to occur, read and listen to the scientists and the informed, remember Boris Johnson speaks with a forked tongue!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXa_Yr7kv3WDaybsA7ZfzT1nBvxBUPW4cWiMMmP1U4dgkCel8UDsc26VZbvLClc0wlu4BPS9UP5f4nDU3_s6cEHalxZjcsdh5j9zljPRPHFy3UXwktnVVd1z9mP-8Nlx7_3JxWqjdtq3s/s968/gb+GOLD+MEDALS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="506" data-original-width="968" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXa_Yr7kv3WDaybsA7ZfzT1nBvxBUPW4cWiMMmP1U4dgkCel8UDsc26VZbvLClc0wlu4BPS9UP5f4nDU3_s6cEHalxZjcsdh5j9zljPRPHFy3UXwktnVVd1z9mP-8Nlx7_3JxWqjdtq3s/s320/gb+GOLD+MEDALS.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I will finish on a happy note. Well done all those athletes in Tokyo, we can only imagine the work they have put into their sports to achieve such magnificent performances. I can't just cheer for the UK, who of course I cheer for, but I am touched by the spirit of every youngster who gets up on those podiums. Each has a story, each has a dream, I am in awe. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhlo4QxlunsLHXx1XSuul_ic-bPvX1MzRWCtWihbXPyU5c8SFCpo37znh4M4-6nnieiVwLBfaVWjiAUf6cjNY9oo0smgq73Py8FeyLFmIH3OjmWdlvhxF76ojKAbyvUzEOWRwLTKmKQY/s660/Michael+Jordon+athlete+quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="660" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhlo4QxlunsLHXx1XSuul_ic-bPvX1MzRWCtWihbXPyU5c8SFCpo37znh4M4-6nnieiVwLBfaVWjiAUf6cjNY9oo0smgq73Py8FeyLFmIH3OjmWdlvhxF76ojKAbyvUzEOWRwLTKmKQY/s320/Michael+Jordon+athlete+quote.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-82040320479566076062021-07-19T01:39:00.003+01:002021-07-19T02:11:25.551+01:00WHITE HAIR AND HOW I SURVIVED THE LOCKDOWN<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-qzidiXdIuI8bxOT4YpMIu1USksZjJLyrGWAwZSUuUHFD1ind0j5JIyY89Gv6MaEmzBhzdNOLRgaUGYbC4sgWSAF6y1390YuGWeYQCzQVQRgPMUHXoMltOkTEyl1WNjBEE28gHTJIkA/s1600/me+at+the+Lion+birthday.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-qzidiXdIuI8bxOT4YpMIu1USksZjJLyrGWAwZSUuUHFD1ind0j5JIyY89Gv6MaEmzBhzdNOLRgaUGYbC4sgWSAF6y1390YuGWeYQCzQVQRgPMUHXoMltOkTEyl1WNjBEE28gHTJIkA/w300-h400/me+at+the+Lion+birthday.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;">It's not how much you love, but how much you are loved by others (Wizard of Oz to Tin Man) and today and whole birthday weekend actually, I have really felt the love. I feel blessed.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As can be seen I have completely transitioned from (fake) brown to white (blue) and I'm OK with it. Ditto hitting the grand old age The Beatles sang about. The lockdown has left me with long blue locks and I don't hate it. I had intended to get it all cut off as the lockdown ended, into a style more fitting of a senior citizen but I watched multiple beauty vloggers my age and above (yes, they exist) who wear their long white hair with pride - that is the cauliflower perm for over 60's is not compulsory! Phew. Happily, I have not had to do anything to my own hair other than wash it with blue shampoo. (Many thanks to the reader who kindly recommended Fanola 'no more yellow' so long ago. The blue gets darker and darker, lol, I am aiming for Weimaraner (dog playing piano) blue, but I may be over doing it, SMS (smart arsed son) thought it was Halloween!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The thing about old age is that you have no idea when you are younger, what you will be like as an old person. I can't say I had ever thought about it, but now it's here I don't have any inclination to behave differently. I still want to paddle in a river, drive a bumper car and order an exotic cocktail in a salsa bar. The spirit is willing and indeed, chomping at the bit, but sadly, the body wants to find a nice place to sit down and have a cup of tea. The week in New Orleans getting high with Jack Nicholson remains on the tick list, but tis now a distant hope, neither one is getting any younger, and it won't be the same if we have to use zimmer frames.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So what have I been up to during all this time. Sadly not writing, this has been a case of writer's block that even Kathy Bates with a sledgehammer couldn't have dislodged. But I have changed, I have re-evaluated my priorities, most importantly I have given much more credence to the words of the great Philosopher (and Beatle) John Lennon. Life is about being happy. And I have been really happy to explore and enjoy all the other interests I have, without torturing myself for not being able to write. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the Catholic Faith, binge watching is frowned on, actually I just made that up but I am sure it is as it involves idleness, gluttony and a lot of coveting. I began the Pandemic totally absorbed in the 'Walking Dead' only to be left hanging on a cliff never to know how it all ends, doh! I moved onto Project Runway, all 17 seasons, loving the creativity and quirkiness of all the competitors and of course, the fabulous fashions. If I hadn't already chosen Edith Piaf singing 'No Regrets' for, what I hope will be a musical send off, I would have to say I do regret not paying attention in needlework class.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I then discovered Game of Thrones, a decade after everyone else, ha ha, but I was gripped. Another blood and guts series that made me watch the episodes back to back. I was quite taken with the Queen of Dragons, we have the same hair colour, sadly that's where the resemblance ends. I think 'Walking Dead' had by that time desensitized me to all the slaying and killing and opened up a whole new world, catching up on good programmes I was too much of a wuss to watch. Game of Thrones was sublime! The characters, the costumes, the settings, each episode felt like a blockbluster, and indeed they were.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My next viewing addiction (of note) was The Vikings! And this is where I hope Bjorn will pop his head in. I loved the series about Ragnar Lothbrok (and sons) and I am now totally obsessed with all things 'Viking'. All and any 'Viking' films and documentaries have me gripped. I never knew very much about the Viking era to be honest, other than our primary school books, where vikings wore twin horned helmets. Totally not true as I have now discovered! And of course, being a Viking was a profession, albeit of the 'pirate' variety, not a nationality. I was so interested to see that the Vikings, the Norsemen, came from all over Scandinavia. I am blown away that they took off in such basic boats, braving all the elements and reaching places like Iceland, Greenland and Canada! Of course their boats were not that basic, they were brilliantly designed and crafted, yes I am also watching 'how to build a Viking boat' programmes! It has torn me away from the Tudors, I am finally learning about European history, Scandinavian especially and secretly hoping that I and my heirs have a drop of Viking blood. Quite possible, they invaded Ireland and Scotland too! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am currently looking for programmes about Viking 'finds', UK or anywhere, I am captivated! Also hoping Bjorn can recommend a Swedish or Icelandic, or indeed any Scandinavian made Viking films and dramas. When I went through my Russian phase, I watched all things Russian (with subtitles), not only the dramas but documentaries, Russian vloggers and travellers to Russia. We are so lucky in this internet age that we are able to 'visit' these places, and get a feel of what life is like in these far away cities. On the Viking front perhaps I should take virtual tours of Swedish and Norwegian museums, I would love to know what Viking related treasures they have dug up.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But going back to age, I think I probably have changed. I spend much, much less time thinking about things that distress me and much more time on things that make me happy. I have mellowed, 'I accept 'it is what it is' in most situations where previously I would have been passionate. Politically, I have never got over the Jeremy Corbyn loss, for me it was that one time in history where all the stars were aligned to bring equality and fairness to all. He of course remains a hero, but that moment has gone. Will it come around again, I hope so. I have a lot of faith of in the young.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well that turned very melancholic, but it is not a reflection of how I feel. It is still a beautiful world and striving for happiness is an altogether agreeable past time. I have say, on the age front, I have found I am treated differently with the white (blue) hair. People are kinder, more respectful, they don't try to rush you, young people especially, they restore my faith in human nature. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I will return to my new favourite series the Medici and seeing the sites of Florence is definitely on my tick list. Another history and costume drama, I just can't keep away from them. I have a feeling I have watched this series before, but thanks to the dementia I can't remember any of it, I hope this happens with the Vikings, would love to watch it anew!</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><br />Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-78167831251570883622020-10-27T17:02:00.000+00:002020-10-27T17:02:00.676+00:00DEFEND MY VIEWS - IF I MUST<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"> In response to Unknown, 21 hours ago, I didn't publish you on the previous blog, mostly because there are too many comments there now, but also because your post amused me. So, herewith, verbatim, I had to write it out in manuscript (still can't c/p) and retype, so herewith:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">'Ros, you are incapable of defending your views and that's why you bin many comments. I never use vulgar or abusive language. Shame on you'.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Let me respond to the second part first. Err, well done on not using vulgar or abusive language. Take a bow. No, your modus operandi is hurt and degrade, arguably, the nastier choice for abuse.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">To the first part. I am happy to defend my views against anyone, bring it on. Have been saying this for the past 13 years! I think I am despised by the antis as much as the pros. Probably because I unmasked many of them, for the phonies they were. As for the pros, the truly psychotic ones who posted on the Myths sites, Tigerpussy or whatever his name was, I slayed the lot of them. They were so bad at dissing me, even I couldn't be arsed to read it, and I love reading about myself! Lol, even the bad.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">So here we are October 2020, in a pandemic that has gone on for 8 months and getting worse. On the Madeleine McCann case, what views do I need to defend? We still have free speech, I'm allowed to have any views I want. Happily, as much as they tried, the McCanns and all their cohorts were not able to bring in legislation that would take away free speech. They stopped books being published and newspapers from reporting facts, but they have never been able to silence social media. I don't think it should be forgotten how hard they worked to silence journalists and put them in jail and how badly misguided the 'hacking' campaign was. Definitely worthy of a chapter.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">As for the defend yourself challenge, I have easily slayed every creep from the Myths sites, Tigerpussy wannabe and all the rest of them. And I would say to anyone, literally anyone, from any of the Madeleine websites, anti or pro, bring it on. Do you think I tremble in fear of the El creepos, Bennett, Hall and Hyatt? Or indeed, any 'renowned' journalist, ha ha ha, I would love to hear how they know so much more than me. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Bring it on unknown from 21 or is it now 22 hours ago. Bring forth your genius and destroy my views and opinions. Tell me where I've gone wrong. Talk about the case, not me on a personal level, the evidence, the statements, the truth you think I have misconstrued. You sound fired, unknown at 22 hours ago, write something cohesive and persuasive, the floor is yours:</span></p><p><br /></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com126tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-91604628835023074042020-09-29T21:16:00.003+01:002020-10-02T00:16:55.834+01:00UPDATE: THE MADELEINE STORY AND ME - BY CRISTOBELL<p><span style="font-size: large;">UPDATE: 01/10/20</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As expected the poison pen hate mail has returned, and no, it won't be published. The sheer vitriol suggests someone is mightily mad that I have decided to write and publish a book about this case. Probably because the Madeleine case has largely been put to bed and stored in the history books as an unsolved mystery. Of the Blair era, it is just another case that doesn't stand up to scrutiny, but on a scale of transgressions, it's at the bottom of the list, with an illegal war being at the top. It will remain shelved for the next few centuries until an enthusiastic Sherlock Holmes automaton picks it up.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So why upset the equilibrium now? Why bring more grief to a family who lost a child? And it does sound awful when you put it like that, but that writes off all the harm to others to support the abduction story. The abduction story only worked by blaming others. Beginning with PDL who lost most of their tourist industry. The Portuguese police who were vilified, the hundreds of innocent posters on social media who were targeted and abused online if they dared say they did not believe the abduction story.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And yes, I was among them, I had my name and reputation torn to shreds along with nasty reviews on Amazon every time I tried to publish a book. Well I'm knocking on a bit now and these are dodgy times, so yes, I am going to write my story with every eye opening revelation I discovered along the way. It is legacy time, time to explain myself, time to justify why I wouldn't keep my trap shut, every time the McCanns, the press and every 'friend of the family' (Clarence) released a phony press release. Should I have just kept that to myself? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There are still many people out there who want to know what happened to little Madeleine McCann and there are a huge amount of crackpot theories and weirdos who claim to have solved the case. Most of these weirdos claimed to have solved the case even before the police files were released. That is, they had already established a motive, some sort of sexual deviancy, and were banging square pegs into round holes to make their freaky theories fit. These were the ones the media portrayed as non believers of the McCanns, as if we all wore dirty rainmacs and carried binoculars. Non believers quickly changed to 'haters' and war broke out on social media.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had been dragged into a war not of my making, and any attempts I made to get away failed. The McCanns and their trolls followed me relentlessly for years planting false stories and lies to demean and discredit me. Walking away was never an option. The pursuit continued, even when I wrote a diet book ffs. The McCanns are vengeful, they never give up. I did for a while there, but I'm back. I supported Goncalo Amaral when he wrote his book, because I could understand his need to tell his side of the story. I feel the same way too, I'm not the villain in this Greek (Portuguese) tragedy, merely an onlooker who got pulled in. A bit like a curious cat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">_____________________________________</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In response to Bjorn, from the previous blog. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, this is what I am thinking Bjorn, and I have already begun. Having been on this case from the start, I am familiar with all the different factions, and more importantly, the agendas and ulterior motives of all the different factions. From the characters who headed out to PDL when Madeleine disappeared, to the lunatics who imbedded themselves into the investigation via their armchairs and the internet.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have already written quite a few thousand words already, but I am currently working on the structure. That is probably the hardest part of putting a book together, the bit that will keep me up at night, lol, But, I am a great storyteller, it is my gift, and I intend to write the book bringing in all the various aspects of Madeleine's case that turned what was probably a sad but pretty straight forward story into a global mystery. Knowing all that I know now, I have, for myself anyway, been able to find a 'satisfying end', a conclusion, a last page. I am in the happy position of knowing enough about the subject, to explain it simply. And of course, that was the beauty of Goncalo Amaral's book, he told his story with honesty and integrity. It is the definitive book in my opinion, and I would never take that away from him. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">With mine, I have the benefit of hindsight, I could see what was going on outside of his bubble, the bigger picture - the politics he referred to that prevented this case from being solved. Clearly, it was not just a problem for the incumbent Labour government of the time, it carried on into the next 3 tory governments. The tories don't have the resolve to fix it either. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have never been about vengeance. I have never had any interest whatsoever in the punishment side of crime. I did once toy with the idea of applying to be a Justice, but I would have let everyone off and probably sent them on holiday. I don't hate Gerry and Kate McCann, I find them fascinating. They bring out those parts of my brain that wants to solve puzzles. I can't put a label on them. I can't say Kate is/was a subjugated wife or that Gerry is a downtrodden husband. Kate is much stronger than she portrays herself, the leaning on Gerry is for sympathy. Gerry, the opposite, not as strong as he portrays, but quickly knows how to go into alpha male automaton mode. Their interactions are fascinating, there will be a whole chapter on that.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I was intrigued by the mystery of Madeleine's disappearance, as we all were, we were drawn in by the tragedy of the story and the talented professionalism of those who were selling it. And I have to give a nod to Clarence Mitchell here, he created a reality show as big as the Osbornes. Maybe it was a joint venture with Gerry, who discovered talents he didn't know he had, but again, Clarence and err, 'keeping up with the McCanns' is also worthy of a chapter.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I will also delve into the paedophile aspect, that was created, possibly on the first night, when Gerry was discussing paedophiles gangs on the phone. I thought that was an horrific first thought to go to, but it planted that seed that there were dark, hooded, predators, climbing in bedroom windows in the resort of PDL. Perverts using a network of computers to tip each other off, when a 'special' child was left alone, unguarded. All bo**ox of course - bogeymen remain largely mythological, though he is blamed of course in too many cases where young children disappear. The sad reality is that in almost all those cases, is much closer to home.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then there is the other paedophile aspect. It differs from the above paedophile aspect, in that these particular paedophile hunters were/are, accusing the parents and their friends of sexually abusing their kids. I found those who focused on these kind of odious accusations particularly despicable. They weren't 'thinking of the children' as is their customary battle cry, they were doing the opposite. Hurting, in a most cruel and sadistic manner, those small children who were on that holiday, maybe for the rest of their lives, the sick, fecking bastards. I especially hate those self proclaimed 'language' experts who can pick up perversity in a few short sentences, they bring a whole new meaning to 'shut that door'. Sadly, I have fixated in my head a group of creepy old men in rainmacs looking for the same perverse thoughts they have in the heads of others. TB, RH and the creepy guitar strumming bible basher.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But it wasn't just men, there are a lot of women out there too being brainwashed to believe their tiny tots are sexually attractive to perverts. Maybe CEOP could come out with burkas for ages 1-3, to keep the nonses under control? Yes, of course I am being sarcastic, but when, let's say, dubious people have control of the dominant ideology, we can be led to believe anything. In 2007, we were being persuaded to set up a specialist police task force to respond to child abductions anywhere in the world as if they were happening on a weekly basis. Truth is, they would have been sat twiddling their thumbs this past 13 years because there hasn't been another one. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I disagree, with Jim Gamble, former head of CEOP, with every fibre of my body that paedophiles are everywhere. I'll tell him what's everywhere - regular people who have never in their lives had such a creepy thought in their heads. As but, as you see, although divided, the paedophile factions, eventually come together in agreement - they want us to believe perverts are all around us. In the social media theatre of war, this put the establishment, the McCanns and every looney facebook page against me. They all wanted to believe that some kind of sexual perversion lay at the heart of this case. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On the outrage front, in my opinion, parents (in general) have enough fears without the government adding to them, especially where those fears were contrived and manipulated. I hated the fear and suspicion that was spread among the public that their children were in constant danger. It simply wasn't true. Making paedophiles public enemy number 1 was a great distraction for a government who took us into an illegal war. One minute terrorists, the next, paedophiles. And dear little Madeleine became the child we all wanted to bring home. For a Labour government who wanted to create a national database of DNA and a legal enforcement to carry identify cards, telling the public their children were at risk was an easy sell. 'Only those with something to hide, will refuse to hand over the blood, medical records and bank details'. See how easy it is to bring in martial law, when someone shouts 'think of the children!'.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I agree with you Bjorn, which of course I would, lol, that none of the documentaries, videos, books etc, have provided a definite account of everything that went on. They are all so afraid of being sued by the litigious McCanns, that they daren't even point at conclusions without providing an opposite and opposing side. I will do the same, obviously, but I'm not going to say, something's perfectly logical when it's clearly insane. I may well have an entire chapter devoted to 'WTF?' moments, of which, there are many! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Madeleine case, more than any other, revealed just how much the mainstream media were deceiving us. We had heard the words 'spin' and negative and positive propaganda, but we were seeing it in action, in plain sight. We were not reliant on news from the British tabloids, the internet had swept in hundreds, thousands of new news sources from outside UK borders. Most pertinently, in the Madeleine case, news was flooding in from Portugal and it was entirely different to the news that was flooding the UK tabloids. A lot of people found that they were only one, maybe two, clicks away from discovering the truth.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have not yet decided whether Gerry and Kate were genius publicists of themselves or whether they were victims of the media moguls, police chiefs and politicians who were using them. I will devote an entire chapter to it. I am hoping that the time is right, that the McCanns and the legal eagles will not be bothered by an opinion piece. One of the great benefits I had as a published author, was my book being scrutinised by the legal team at Random House. It was a huge learning curve, albeit it rushed, within a month, but I learned enough about libel law to steer clear of the McCann legal watchers. I didn't even get a mention in the Summers and Swan book, for which I was quite miffed. But truth is, I have never said anything illegal or libellous, Amazon will have no reason to ban me. But, of course, lol, we shall see what happens. My journey is no different to thousands of others who were gripped by this case. That is, gripped by the puzzle solving, gripped by the gossip, gripped by the twists, turns and drama of reality TV on OMGs.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm not putting the blame for my obsession on the parents of Madeleine, Since I have started accepting the blame (absolutely) for every dumbarse decision I have ever made, I have realised the absolute futility of trying to shift that blame onto others. I could easily have flipped that front page over onto page 3 and tits, (at that time, lol), but I wanted to know sooooo much more. Even in May, 2007, the logical part of my brain could not make the facts I knew, as few as they were, into a story that made sense. And I wanted to, because my dear old mum who I loved squabbling with, had taken the opposing side. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, so much I should save for the book, lol. I am a great believer in fate. I started my blog because, basically everyone hated me, ha ha, I was banned from every Madeleine site. But I started my blog, and built up my own discussion board, uncensored and unfiltered, which worked very well for a long while. I think I reached occasions where I was the most read Madeleine blog on the net. I was attacked by the head cases, not surprisingly, from both the anti McCann side and the pro McCann side. Again, I cite that point where extremes collide and find themselves in the same lane. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I should finish with I am not the enemy. I am not the bad guy, or gal, a terrible impression the internet has taken of me, because I simply did not believe Gerry and Kate McCann. I am proud to have grown up in a land where I am free to have my opinion, but for a long time, I had to fight a ridiculous media war where I was labelled a 'hater', bitter twisted, psychologically unstable and regularly told to 'hurry up and die'. Simply because I had voiced out loud that I did not believe the abduction story given by the McCanns and the establishment who seemed to be in on it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Opposing the McCann media machine was not a good choice (again I blame myself), but I was not going to be silenced. Who tf did they think they were? Famous last words, lol. Sadly, David beating Goliath was a fluke, anyone taking on media darlings and the power of the establishment, generally gets squished. Presently peeking out from under a large mushroom that's about to be sauteed. The big question now, is am I squishworthy? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On the non squishworthy side (saving the McCanns a fortune in legal fees here), I have no fortune they can seize in reparation for their pain. TB had a house and a few bob put aside, Goncalo Amaral wrote a best selling book (they allowed it to sell for 12 months before suing). And I make no allegations, nor will I. I simply want to sell a book based on the knowledge I have and the conclusions I have reached. A story with a beginning, a middle and an end. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And on the non squishworthy side, I am sympathetic to Gerry and Kate, I try to understand the predicament they were in. I don't agree with their batshit crazy form of childminding, a listening method used by Butlins, circa 1960, I do understand their desperate need for a break from kids. As a young single mum, I literally cried when I couldn't go out. Whatever happened in that apartment that night was not premeditated, malicious, or, and I can't believe I am having to say this, sexually perverse. If you are among those people who think it was, or who think, an accident happened much earlier in the week, then this book is not for you. The tapas group were regular, normal, if a bit geeky, party of middle class professionals enjoying an early summer break. PDL was a regular Portuguese holiday village, not a regular meeting place for VIP paedophiles and swingers. Such was the rubbish being sold in the early days, and such was the rubbish that continued throughout. Textusa, some crazy old spinster who believes everyone's swinging except her. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I must go, I have the writing bug, and that has been missing for a long time..... </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com212tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-18587072269363051802020-09-25T21:48:00.000+01:002020-09-25T21:48:00.851+01:00SOCIAL MEDIA WARS - PART ONE THE MYSTERY OF MADELEINE MCCANN<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Oh joy, bliss and every happy adjective you can think of, I finally have focus, for my troubled, stress driven mind. I need to write, and I do, uncontrollably, but I can't concentrate, I can't focus and I hate myself for it. All you poison pen writers, you can't even dream up all the things I find to torture myself. I would never advise my descendants to take up any form of art, it is perpetual torture. Even if you write or create something good, you are immediately plunged into the nightmare of producing something better. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">However, I have now decided to take a bit of break from flogging myself and writing a book about something I know. And sadly, I do know the the case of missing Madeleine McCann through and through. Not intentionally or premediated, my involvement was one of those flukes of life, I was drawn in, reluctantly, the lives of Gerry, Kate, et al, meant nothing to me. I was plodding along with my life, doing a demanding job, looking after two kids, but I had just fought a battle with the Catholic Church, which I had lost. So maybe it was fair to say, I was a tad anti establishment.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I didn't believe Gerry and Kate and had no fears of saying it out loud, even though I had just had a book released by Random House. My stance killed the releaser of my book stone dead, but I don't actually blame the McCanns for that even though they were trashing me online. I'm a realist. If it had a been good enough, it would have made it. Ergo, I blame myself, and must work harder.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">My memoir, I have to admit, was not a book I set out to write, well not at that stage of my life anyway. But I got a book deal, what you gonna do? I wrote it hastily, within 4 months, and with drafts going back and forth between myself and editors and lawyers. I look back on it as a crash course in what you can say in a book and what you can't. It was a huge lesson learned. Never put faith in a publisher and agent again. My 'McCann Media Wars' (working title) will be entirely self published and edited by myself.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">All the advice I have received over the ages, tell me to abandon my writing pseudonym 'Cristobell'. I can't and probably won't. Cristobell gave me a voice, a confident voice when I ventured into chatrooms, hostile chatrooms, where old hands tortured the newbies. It was however, especially hurtful when I joined book club chatrooms, where I was I sure I would meet soul mates. It was mightily depressing, especially as none of them had any idea as to the origins of Cristobell. Matters not in the whole scheme of things, but I am fortunate that in my life I have met people on my own wave length, people who can convey, in one way or another, 'yeah, I hear you sister'.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">But it's </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have drunk far too much Vanilla Vodka (what kind of brave new world is that that has such tempting delights in it? Vodka that tastes just like Cream Soda, it's almost devilish, ha ha. But not the right beverage to be writing real life crime novels. Once I throw up and hit the coffee, then I'll begin. The only thing I have eaten today is the ultimate coffee panna cotta, I can state categorically that the taste and texture were perfection and even during the projectile vomiting it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Let me know if you want the recipe.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have digressed obviously, and my mind is now set on toasted cheese with beans. Much needed stodge after the stomach emptying. Way too much information, but I am celebrating tonight. The literal translation of depression is the inability to focus. If you can focus, you're going to be alright. I'm knocking on a bit, and had given up, I had done all I wanted to do, I assured myself, I had my chance and I blew it. But my chance is still active, it still has breath and a heart beat within it. Maybe I am not as alive and vivacious as I once was, but I'm not ready to hurry and die as has been wished upon me. I don't know what the trigger was (I suspect Bjorn), but it's time I wrote that book.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-90955516264809258702020-09-16T21:02:00.000+01:002020-09-16T21:02:26.139+01:00I'M NOT THE CRAZY ONE - AND MCCANN STUFF<p><span style="font-size: large;"> I look on the years I spent writing about Madeleine McCann as a journey, a journey I shared with hundreds of others. Now it may seem an odd journey to embark on, but I and indeed everyone else who followed this real life reality crime were hooked. Gerry, Kate et al, caste their rods far and wide to entice a global audience and they succeeded. That they weren't able to keep control of the global audience they attracted, was inevitable. As Gerry said, perhaps they were naive to think they could control the monster they created. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Of course it was inevitable that the narrative the parents were putting out would be questioned because there were so many questions left unanswered. The story simply didn't ring true and didn't make any sense. People could see that, and many, including myself, who refused to accept the 'official' story became the enemy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The 'official' story caste the parents as victims and heroes, whilst demonising the Portuguese detective who originally led the investigation. It forgave, unconditionally, the fact that the parents had deliberately left 3 very young children on their own in a holiday apartment while they went to dinner. And worse. It implied 'all' parents did this, especially English ones and it wasn't a big deal. How could they (the clueless parents) know a child predator was on the prowl that night? The hotel didn't warn them about child predators nor did the local police, ergo, they and the predator were guilty and the parents were victims.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Those of us who have looked into this know that is a load of rubbish. Holiday resorts rarely advertise that they are plagued by child abductors, especially when they aren't, and not unreasonably, they expect parents to look after their children. Gerry and Kate were offloading blame from the very beginning. This I found odd. From my own experience, I have blamed myself absolutely for every accident and near miss my kids suffered. And I have cried along with every parent who has lost a child and blames themselves, I hear them, I feel their pain. I remember seeing an interview with Sarah Payne talking about her murdered daughter. Her agony was tangible and she made her sweet little daughter real to us in the loving way she spoke about her. It was a very emotional experience, not just for myself, but for all who watched it. If you read this Sarah, a big old cyber hug.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I know many people say, particularly in defence of the McCanns, that no-one know how they would react to the horror of having a child stolen. Some admired the McCanns', err, stoicism, others were appalled and cried 'wtf is wrong with them'. I, self admittedly, am a complete wuss, ergo I try not to judge other people by myself. But I've seen bravery, heck there have even been occasions when I have been brave myself. For some reason I equate bereavement with bravery, that is when we have lost someone we truly love, we can pull ourselves together for short periods of time, the funeral for example, to maintain some sort of dignity. A little break from being a sobbing, vodka infused, weeping heap of jelly. When I lost my beloved dad, I didn't leave my bedroom for days. I watched 'Seinfeld' and 'Father Ted' back to back, together with old depression curer 'The Odd Couple'. One of the best friends I have ever had in my life was there with me on the first night as I drank and talked and cried. That is a kindness I will never forget. She knows who she is :), we went to Uni together and I still love her for it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have no shame in admitting that I suffer from manic depression, so it may be that my reactions are more extreme than others, I really don't know because most people don't talk about this stuff out loud. But I refuse to accept the judgment of those who supposedly love me, and those who outright hate me. I'm not the crazy one. Unfortunately the whole McCann debate raised for me, a battle I have been fighting my entire life. That is, my non acceptance of obvious lies, my refusal to conform to majority opinion, was yet another sign of my insanity. And of course, this was the Achilles heel that the McCann supporters picked up on. Added to which, I had a truth telling memoir published by Random House, so they had plenty of ammunition. 'Go take your meds', 'your mother never loved you' was the fodder of the trolls who pursued me. Along with websites, photoshops (which were hilarious) and nasties telling me to 'hurry up and die'. Incidentally, all deleted after the death of Brenda Leyland.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I didn't set out to go to war with the McCanns on social media, I responded after much provocation. In my writing I have a golden rule, one that I have stuck to my entire life, even when I only scribbled into A4 notebooks in the middle of the night. Honesty and Integrity. I know how much words matter, ergo I sleep soundly because I know what my words mean to others, I know the effect they can have on other people. Not because I personally am a wordsmith, but because I have seen the effects of words being used trivially and malevolently by ignorant people and believed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The McCanns and all those people pushing the abduction story were presenting a false narrative and that hurt my innate sense of justice, above all else. I really, really, hate being lied to. The disappearance of poor little Madeleine McCann, became 90% propaganda for a government seeking a national database of DNA, finger printing and micro chipping and a zealous cop who wanted a slice of Silicone Valley pie and the power to police the internet. Included in that was the agenda of people who wanted to convince us that pedophiles were everywhere. Lurking on street corners and of course, on the internet. Convincing people the internet was a bad thing was always going to be an uphill battle, but suggest the internet was being used to enable child abusers, and they are halfway there. Why wouldn't you hand over all your private and confidential information to the likes of Jim Gamble, what do you have to hide?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jim Gamble and CEOP wanted, desperately, to link little Madeleine McCann (not yet 4) to internet grooming. Their agenda, to prove that the internet, freedom of information and the ability to connect to others, was somehow dark and seditious. Something that needed a specialist police force. In a James Bond world, those seeking to seize power over the internet, as policemen, would be seen as the Drs Evil, but before 2010, everything regarding the world wide internet was up for grabs. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It never ceases to amaze me how those, in the very short time they have of holding all the cards, are so swiftly brought back down to earth. I would be a liar if I said I didn't enjoy it. Where is your power now, Gerry, Clarence? Can you go back to international fund raising? How about 'Go Fund Me?' Are you Clarence, held up to media students as the goal to aspire to? Where is the support, the enthusiasm that you had in the early days? Gerry, if he had had his way, would have built a world wide corporation on the back of his missing daughter. It never came to fruition, nor his annual 'Maddie Day', when the public would be reminded to donate. The unseemly focus on asking for donations offended my sensibilities at once, wtf? </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Little Madeleine was lost the first night, when all the vultures got on the planes to PDL, but the Tapas group, stranded and alone in PDL, were already thinking that very same way.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I think I offered a couple of times, to cease the war with the McCanns, but they escalated it. They went onto Amazon and trashed my book and followed me, literally everywhere, on social media. Within moment of my typing something, it would appear on McCann supporters sites. They were using my comments and blogs to get hits, lol. Such is life, ha ha. I can laugh, because I am the one in possession of the talent, the pro and anti sites might try to steal it, but it's still mine. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I make no apologies for the media wars that ensued. In fact, their hostility emboldened me, the more they attacked my mental health, my crazy childhood, the more they made me eternally grateful that I wasn't them. Everything I have written, readers will note, is tinged with pity. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Whilst it is true to say, that in the early summer of 2007, Gerry and Kate McCann held the world in their hands. They were sympathetic victims (it could have been any of us), they were camera ready and erudite. But that happy paradigm was never going to be sustainable. Most of the people Gerry and Kate were meeting were buying absolutely their carefully rehearsed, simplistic, story of how their daughter disappeared. On paper, especially A4 sized and verified by every character in the drama, it was an open and shut case. Especially, as every character was a doctor or a professional and beyond questioning or reproach. It's not as if the Tapas 6, or is it 8, were in any way reckless chavs who left their kids to go out on the piss. Let's get that distinction firmly in place, carved in stone, and beyond question as we go forward.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I am a single mum who spent many nights crying into my gin and listening to Diana Ross singing about no-one living her, while all my mates were out partying. And there were times when I took my sleepy toddlers along with me to pub or restaurant and covered them in a blanket while they snoozed in a buggy. Maybe I should, but I don't feel bad about that. What I do feel bad about is the one time, I left my sleeping tot and drove to the shop that was literally at the bottom of the road and back. I was less than 10 minutes but I have never been able to shake the guilt.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Doctors McCann and their close knit group of friends made it OK and forgivable to leave small children on their own. The callousness of their statements, especially one of the mothers of a baby, outraged me, especially the way she spoke about her small child's sickness and diorrhea, it chilled me to the bone. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I was also appalled that the disappearance of Madeleine McCann was used to distort the general ideology of the masses. Child abductions are extremely rare. There is a Wiki page that lists child kidnappings going back decades, and kids who go missing globally, make headlines, due to the rarity! Those pushing the story that Madeleine was abducted by a predator, was based more on fantasy than reality. But they succeeded, they persuaded parents worldwide, that their babies were at risk of being abducted from their beds. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So who was this frightening myth good for? Police agencies based on protecting kids, charities for the missing, governments pushing for a national database, newspapers who love stories about bogeymen. A win win all around. Who was it ultimately not good for? Hmm, the parents, strangely. 13 years on, they still do not have an answer as to what happened to their daughter. That is, not an official answer that clears them absolutely. The appearance of suspects from different parts of Europe these days, means absolutely nothing to old hands like me. Seen it so many times before and know, beyond reasonable doubt, that there is no abductor. See all my blogs. So I guess the answer is no, I don't need to look any further.</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-834822786084044829.post-69891901052104193092020-09-11T20:04:00.000+01:002020-09-11T20:04:34.336+01:00MY THOUGHTS ON THE MADELEINE MCCANN CASE NOW BY CRISTOBELL<p>A continuation of my reply to a post on previous blog on Trafalgar Square , part II.</p><p>You are being a little bit too polemic when you say 'powerful' and 'serfs', as if we are two distinct groups and that the 'powerful' are all members of the same club. Clearly, they are not, we live in a democracy, power is transitory, it is not permanent. Those powerful in 2007 for example are not powerful now. Blair and Brown are in the history books, though their ideology is resurfacing with Kier Starmer, but that's another debate for another day. The problem you have 18:10 (please, even an initial will do!) is that you are lumping 'the powerful' together as one distinct group. A common enemy for we serfs. But it's not that simple.</p><p>Let me give you an example, a bad one actually, because it proves your point rather than mine, ha ha, but here we go. If the Madeleine story was one big almighty scam, as I believe it was, why has there been no result from Scotland Yard, who have been investigating the case under Labour and Tory governments? A tory government could have torn into Blair et al for the terrible way they handled this case. But they didn't. They continued with virtually the same sound bites. My opinion is, that too many VIPs, both labour and conservative, backed up the McCanns story. More importantly, so did quite a few top police inspectors. Added to that you must take into consideration how unpopular it was to question the word of Gerry and Kate McCann. The perfect couple who lost the perfect child on the perfect holiday. That was the narrative. Put out not just by the family, but also the government and mainstream media at the time. Sky News even gave the McCann family their own news channel. I know because I was watching it 24/7 whilst caring for my sick mother. We were both captivated by the story and talked about it endlessly, she was 'anti McCann' and I, believe it or not, was 'pro McCann'. That is, my initial reaction, like that of most people, was compassion for the parents. To my mind, my mother was a 'terrible woman' (it sounds endearing with an Irish accent), that is, she was always going out of her to 'shock' and squabbling with her was hilarious, for both of us. When we meet again, I can't wait to catch her up on the antics of 'that trollop' Kate Price :)</p><p>But I digress. I don't think Gerry and Kate were criminal masterminds. They were ordinary people caught up in an extraordinary series of events, most of them, beyond their control. I think they experienced a tragedy and were thrown a lifeline from 'dark shadows'?. Thereafter they, as a couple, did everything they could to preserve their family and living kids, they made a pact, not matter how distasteful things go, we stick to the story. I can understand the first bit, who hasn't had to make a pact with the devil? But in my opinion they went way way beyond that need for survival and all too quickly into greed and retribution. Punishing the cop who searched for your daughter for example, is immoral on every level.</p><p>Right now, I am completely indifferent as to what happens to anybody in this case. I have no idea what the state of play is now, and I don't really care. I think Gerry and Kate McCann have suffered more than most of us in our lifetimes, mostly from their own reaction to what was going on around them. Punishment of any kind, is always distasteful to me. People with a conscience punish themselves above and beyond, and I think those consciences are there because they have tried so hard to absolve themselves. I believe they loved their daughter Madeleine, of that I have no doubt and they will miss her until their end of days. I don't think there was anything malicious or perverted involved in Madeleine's disappearance. Gregarious, ambitious 30 somethings are only interested in other gregarious, ambitious, 30 somethings, not kids ffs.</p><p>Sadly, those who 'see paedophiles everywhere' became too deeply embedded in this case. From both sides. Both the 'pros' and the 'antis' (not my dear old mum I hasten to add) went out of their way to link Madeleine's disappearance to paedophile gangs, especially on the internet. Madeleine was not yet 4 at the time. Computers were seized, freaky allegations were made, especially via anonymous phone calls to PDL's police. Robert Murat was criminally profiled by experts from Jim Gamble's CEOP. Single middle aged man, tick. Likes internet porn, tick. Too helpful to police like Ian Huntley (thanks Sun newspaper), tick, chopped up critters (thanks anonymous phone calls), in his youth, tick. Enough to make him first Arguido. </p><p>Of course, that didn't pan out, and Robert Murat (rightly in my opinion) was awarded hundreds of thousands of pounds for having his name dragged to hell and back. Unfortunately, as Jim Gamble pointed out, this is a case that will probably never be resolved in our lifetimes. Takes a lot of confidence to say that. By resolved of course, he means 'officially' and I believe him. Bizarrely, I now feel a twinge of sympathy for Gerry and Kate, when I said they have suffered, I truly mean it. And no, I don't feel good about that, jeez, I don't ever want to see anyone suffer. I suspect that since 2007 the couple have lived the best lives they can to ease their pain and to compensate for their, shall we say, sins. </p><p>I may be wrong, but they, even with CEOP's dodgy profiling, do not fit the criteria for habitual criminals. They don't now, and never have (if you discount their advisors) presented any threat to anyone, certainly not their children. No police officer has ever thought that, not even Goncalo Amaral. Those creepy websites should never have received the attention they did. As I found, getting banned everywhere, they just weren't interested in logic. They had made up their minds! The case involved perverts, swingers and whatever sick sexual perverse shit they could imagine. So fecking dense they didn't realise all the filth was actually coming from their own minds! </p><p>Do I think Gerry and Kate McCann should be brought to justice? Actually time I think, has a big influence. Gerry and Kate have had to live with this nightmare since 2007 and I don't see any way you can be at peace with all that shit going on. Some might say they have been political pawns all his time, beholden to all those powerful people who gave them succour? Imagine living a life where 'powerful' have control over you? Gerry and Kate were never arrested but they were never cleared either. They have been hanging in purgatory for the last 13 years. The 'powerful' they trusted, have never had the power to give them a clean slate. Those they trusted, Rupert Murdoch, the Sun et al, were putting them on the front pages whilst simultaneously stabbing them in the back. See Kate and Gerry posing like Charles and Diana. With all The Sun have gathered on Kate and Gerry and the extended family they could have had a field day if tabloids ever became popular again. Now, news moves too fast, who cares? And Gerry and Kate have probably realised by now, that the Sun only wants them if they can create salacious headlines that will again put them on trial. I truly hope they see through this now. </p><p>Which brings us nicely back to serfs. Am I a serf? Probably, though as a class warrior I have always had an arrogant, over grandiose opinion of myself, I don't bow to anyone, so I've never really been serf material. I am however, overly aware of what a tiny, tiny, speck I am on the universe. Now, whilst I am not religious, I change religion every day, and also knocking on a bit, I feel it ever more important to leave my stamp before I go. I'm making marmalade tomorrow, so fingers crossed. They are not Seville oranges, so sad face smiley.</p><p>I feel a bit sad for Gerry and Kate McCann because losing a child is a sorrow I cannot imagine. I think they were badly, badly, misguided by all the vultures who rushed to their aid. I understand their need to survive (I'm a huge fan of Walking Dead), but trying to survive should not in any way, hurt other people. That's the big I cannot grasp. And they did hurt other people, as a 'tapas' group they pointed the finger at the innocent Robert Murat. I can only imagine what being accused of being a child abductor can do to a man, especially in prison. Where are their consciences in putting an innocent man through such horror?</p><p>The hurting others part is the bit I just don't get in the whole Madeleine saga. I can see that suing Goncalo Amaral, the lead Portuguese detective on the case should have reinforced the couple's victimhood and innocence, it actually had the opposite effect. Who tf sues the detective investigating them? What court, English or European would create such a precedent? Who tf advises them to use what remains of their once abundant Madeleine Fund to chase worthless law suits? No Gerry and Kate are not criminal masterminds, they might just as well have had 'dumb' and 'gullible' tattooed on their foreheads, that they kept their heads just above water, is err, admirable? </p><p><br /></p><p>Anyone who questioned it was a monster. But, as I alluded to above, the 'missing child scenario' fitted nicely into the 'powerful's' plan to harvest a national database. Nothing arouses the public's anger more than paedophilia, it is a subject that can make turn a normal, ok person, into a raging lunatic. That is, it is almost impossible to have any sort of rational discussion. Ergo, if the powerful, the government, the media, the establishment, 'imply' your beloved baby is at constant risk of being stolen by gangs of paedophiles, your response is emotional not logical. </p>Rosalinda Huttonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01497239700092619580noreply@blogger.com3