Waiting To Be Re-Floated In Blackpool England.

This ship is being visited by many tourists around the world and making Blackpool the centre of attraction.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_zOmipMdtzH0vHvR3F958SstN9oecf8enQdUQ6iH_fT_nvdijvMgrSLnMInWnlCjuYrR80a1obhxhzSUZwCcNIjBetdfuwbjK_NTJSGMB8Lbb2PiX3dVzmV1_2478pBcsF3p-UAZQ1LN/s660/top.jpg

My Beautiful Babes, The Chi's.

My Postcard Collection.

My Puppy.

adopt your own virtual pet!

Free Counter

Places, I have visited.

Beaumont, Grasmere In The Lake District.


My Favourite Place The Lake District.


On Our Trip To Preston not far from home.


Preston, on the escalator a beautiful cafe below..


Chester City Wall and I also walked the wall around York City.

My Family Members.

Great Grandaughter Aleisha.
Paula's Baby.
Barry My Youngest Brother.


Shelley My Eldest Grandaughter With Her Children
Grant, Danielle, Angel and Grant.

Charmaine,my grandaughter. Christine my sister,
Wyn my cousin And Cheryl my grandaughter too..


Geoff My Middle Brother.


Bob My Eldest Brother.

Terry my son and wife Tracey.

Julie My Eldest Daughter.


Debs My Middle Daughter, Cheryl's,
Charmaine and Shannon's Mum.

Lynda My Youngest Daughter and Myles Her First Grandson.

Alan is Linda's Husband.


Shannon, Debs Daughter and
Dean Is Lynda And Alan's son.

Autobiography. Auntie Ethel.

I have had some lovely people and family members that have had a great effect on my life at various stages. One such lovely lady I will not forget is my Auntie Ethel, who was my mums sister.
From a very early age I often ran down the street to her house about ten doors down from us. Sometimes I called for a butty other times just to see her and my gran Polly Greaves. I would often go with old ties in my hair and Auntie Ethel would exchange them for coloured ribbon.

My auntie Ethel was the head waitress in a restaurant called Lockhart’s Cafeteria. Back then, she would take my cousin Winnie and me to work with her. Auntie would lavish food on us that I had never seen before, let alone eat.
On those days, when we were allowed to go to the restaurant, Auntie Ethel would supply me with a change of clothing that belonged to Wyn. This was to ensure that I looked smart. I felt that I was too. My mum couldn't afford many clothes for us children, as there was five of us and she brought us up single handed.


Saturdays were the best in those days, as auntie would let me do some errands for her and ensured I had enough money for sweets and ices. Uncle Albert too was always wonderful to me and many times he paid for my cousin and me to go to the Empire Pictures and sometimes we took Christine my sister with us.
The Empire was called by us kids, the Bug and Scratch. Yes! you can imagine why? We followed every breathtaking adventure of Flash Gordon and rarely missed an episode. I even remember his wife was called Gail.

Before the film began, we were all aloud to sing or dance on the cinema stage and winners were picked out and we received sweets or presents quite often. It was as though it was xmas every Saturday for us.
I have many good memories of Auntie Ethel and will always treasure them. The worse memory was when I had to say my goodbye to her, when she left this world. I was so lucky to have had her in my life. Goodnight and God bless my Auntie Ethel.

Sonnet 1..

Monday, March 07, 2005


Gather all the nouns and verbs and sift-em.

Take some good descriptive words and mix them.

Gently fold in structure, middle and the end

pen them all on paper and some day send.

Now follow instructions via your tutor.

Draft and draft and re-arrange, edit on your monitor.

Gather all info and practice every day

I will be guided steadily along the way.

I never could believe I could achieve a prose.

But with some skills I've surely found it grows.

Sadly now my class, is coming to an end

my next attempt a B unit I'll attend.

Now I know a writer, I would like to be

perfect is practice and perfection, we'll see.

Sonnet 2.

Tourist Information. Wednesday, February 16, 2005


Reasonable rates charged for hotel stays even public places.

Arcades the length and breadth of the golden mile,

People from near and far with smiling faces.

Some even marry, staying for a while.

Visitors travel by rail, sea or road

reaching their destination with elation.

Ticket purchase, queuing with one's load.

North station, south bound even Poulton station.

A visit to Fleetwood, markets and shops.

Gaze up in wonder at the tower height

it's structure and The Walk Of Faith, the tops

Even open top trams to see all the sites.

Upon my word I promise all this too

once visited this resort, you'll say true.

Wings Of A Bird. Poem.

The out span spread of wings

soar high above in flight

stick insect legs with stone like beak

two-tone soft swift slender body

tearing, ripping, gripping its prey

beak tapping, feet stamping

searching solid earth for worms.

It's What Friends Are For.

It was the hottest day on record. The sun was beating down on my head and his words were scrambling my brain. How could I keep a secret from my friend who has known me for all these years. I was still listening to him whilst all these thoughts ran wild in my head.

He was telling me that he was in a relationship with a young person half his age and was madly in love with her. He expected that I would sanction his desire. He wanted to leave my friend high and dry. I was not letting this happen. I had to tell my friend, but how the hell could I break her heart.

I decided on another plan, I was going to meet his young woman that he was seeing. The only way that I would know where she lived was to follow him in my car. I would have to ensure that he never saw me, but that wouldn't be a problem.

The next day I turned the key into the ignition and set out to his place. I arrived and parked my car at the end of his road where I wouldn't be seen. I waited for what seemed forever, then suddenly saw his green Ford car was coming toward me. I started my car and backed out so he could not see me. I then followed him on the main road he was on for about five miles, until he pulled into a long lane. I parked into a lay-by at the beginning of the lane then followed him to see where he was going.

There was a lovely white small cottage with an abundant of beautiful flowers surrounding the home. They sat in rows in a narrow border that surrounded the quaint cottage. I hid behind some shrubs at the side of the garden and watched him turn a key in the lock and enter the home.

It must have been around an hour's wait and my knees were numb with crouching down, when suddenly the door opened and a woman in her blue short dressing gown appeared at his side. They kissed and cuddled and then he left.

I knocked at the door when he was out of sight. "My God Jenny, I didn't know that you lived here". I said. Her face was white as the driven snow at seeing me. She asked me in and closed the door hard.

"What a surprise seeing you at my door Susan. You said before that you didn't know that I lived here. Who was you expecting to see then"? She said.
"I saw Jim leaving about an hour ago. Don't try and wriggle out of this one. We've been down this road more than once in college, remember. I'll say this just once. Leave Jim alone. His wife is my best friend. I will not see you split them up. Remember, I know all about you and your ways and where your husband is". I said.

"Jim is besotted with me and would never believe a word you said against me", she said sarcastically. All I want is a little of what he has and I will leave him alone, but not till I am ready. You see Susan, this cottage belongs to me. Jim bought it and I will have my husband live here when he has done his time in prison. I will leave Jim when he comes out and not before then". She said.

"If you do not go today I will tell Jim all about you and he will have you sent to prison and you and your husband could even share the same dingy cell. Believe me I'll make your life hell if you don't leave today. My memory serves me very well, and all the other men you have used I can still name them. You've a string of other convictions against you too and that came from your mouth, when we were at college together. Pack your bags or I go to the police right now."

"You are one hell of a bitch. what about my cottage, I can't take it with me."
"Jim can have it back. I'll tell him to give it to my friend who should have had it in the first place. You have fleeced him and her for the last time.

Four months had passed and Jim's wife had no idea that her husband had been seeing another woman. Jim had told his wife that he had been busy buying her the cottage as a surprise for her and they had now moved in together. I had told Jim everything about Jenny and how I had followed him. But the greatest thing of all is that my dear friend never knew that her marriage was on the rocks or that her lovely cottage was not bought for her in the first place. I pray that Jim has learned a valuable lesson in not to play around with other women again. He had a very lucky escape.

Ball Talk.

My name is Ball. Yes! I hear you, a four-letter word. I have been used and abused in many ways I can assure you. I've been around for centuries now and yes things have changed considerably. The good thing, I travel far and wide and give enormous pleasure around the world.

I come in all colours, shapes and sizes even with signatures and more. I earn millions of pounds for others but for some more trouble than it's worth.
My pleasures in life are the small children and animals, OK! I get dropped and kicked around a lot, but who cares, not me. Their tiny angelic hands don't always catch me. Sometimes they kick sometimes miss. On occasions they even kiss and stroke me. The kittens also are gentle, they just like to roll me around and mouth a little. Dogs however, have gnashers like crocodile teeth.


Now for the biggie, the big kids that is. They kick with the force of thunder. They also enjoy me being confiscated or worse having me killed off altogether. I smash windows in houses, cars and shops even causing physical injury on my players and opponents.
This is the game of all games. The boys in coloured shirts with numbers on their backs. The dimensional football pitch. The fight for one's life. The injuries I cause through their stupidity. The whistle blow and red card shown. A penalty kick taken. A roar from the crowd the lions in the den, eating their prey. The dreaded studded football boots. A shattering effect.


Then their is the Holy Grail, the goal post. A goal I could score or land myself smack into the humming crowd. The chants and jeers from within the crowd. Their hands keep me from the pitch. Now, my career is at an end. A new ball appears and I'm out of the game.

The Tower Circus. 1953. Autobiography 1.

When I was nine, I clearly remember an experience I will never forget. It was a visit to the tower circus. The year 1953, is a dramatic trigger to my childhood days because it was also our Queen's Coronation.
That day, my mum had laid out my Sunday best clothes, including my younger sister and three brothers. This was our first visit to the circus. This visit was made possible through a charity organisation that enabled parents on low income, the chance of a break from their children. It was also something different for the children to experience from their usual life style. This information I acquired at a later time.
My sister, brothers and me along with numerous other children were escorted through the streets to reach our destination. The three-mile walk from our home was quite a frustrating ordeal. When we had arrived at the circus, it was buzzing with excited children of all ages. The plush velvet red chairs were like sitting on a throne.
The huge circus arena and the smells of the animals were our first sightings and inhalations we had ever experienced. The circus began with beautiful provocative showgirls, dancing and twirling around the edge of the arena. They were dressed in glorious coloured sequined outfits and wore black shiny stiletto shoes, depicting legs up to their thighs.
The daredevil trapeze artists showed off their skills of double and treble somersaults whilst in mid-air. Obedient performing poodles that were trained to perform various tricks. Clowns were leaping off the trampoline and acrobatting the length and breadth of the awesome arena. Soon after, the animals had appeared, and the circus was filled with gasps of horror and cries of hilarity from the disbelieving audience. The glossy coated stallion horses were as large as life and the artistic performers stood upright on their bare backs, unsupported. It was an exotic sight.
One of the highlights for me, was the appearance of the famous clown Charlie Carrroli. He wore a white jewelled pierot costume with white tall triangular hat. His famous rosy red nose, resembling a bright red tomato. Charlie's face was painted white and his red lips stretched ear to ear when he grinned. The antics Charlie got up to were brilliant. Although his skill of squashing custard pies into any face close to him, was hysterical. Charlie ended his act with a brilliant performance of O my papa, on his dazzling brass clarinet.
Norman Barrat the famous ring master, was also an artist in his own right. As well as introducing the artists, he showed off his talents. His well trained budgerigar was exquisite in towing toy carts and miniature bicycles, whilst other budgies sat still in them.
The end of the show had sadly come to an end. As we stood up to make our exit. Suddenly the circus ring filled with 45,000 gallons of water, that took only eleven seconds to complete. It was an amazing piece of Victorian engineering. The illuminated water rose up from the arena with a terrific force and cascaded into a spectacular display, A mirage like splendour. I will treasure these memories forever.

The Bullied And The Bullies.

The bullied and the bullies. Saturday, March 12, 2005



"You'd better give me my fxxxing two quid today, Billy boy.'' Christopher Dyson shouted, in a threatening manner.
Billy replied, ''I'll have no dinner again if you take my money.'' Tough! You little shit, hand it over now''. Christopher, then lashed out at Billy with his foot and he fell to the ground. He managed to stand after a few seconds and threw the money down. Billy slowly limped away whilst wiping his tears on the sleeve of his dirty jacket.
At the other end of the playground a group of boisterous children began chanting, ''Billy boy, Billy boy, whose a stupid silly boy.'' Suddenly a well built girl ran the length of the yard and grabbed Billy's arm and violently teared his jacket sleeve from the seam. Billy hobbled away screaming.
He could not stand up to the bullies, even the girls were as vicious as some of the boys. The bullying had gone on since he began his new school term and was getting worse. The other children could not help him as Christopher and his mates would do the same to them, and they too were scared to death. Billy was being raped of his sanity and it had to end pretty soon.

The heat in the classroom was unbearable. It was not surprising, as the classroom window wouldn't open. Someone had used super glue to ensure it stayed that way. Some of the pupils began disrupting the lesson by throwing whatever objects lay in front of them. Pens and rulers amongst them. The teacher had experienced this kind of behaviour often from her class of thirteen -year -olds.

''Christopher, how many times do I have to tell you. I'm sick and tired of your unruly behaviour. Stand outside the head's office now''.
Billy entered the classroom at 11.00.
''Billy, where is your uniform, you cannot come into school wearing clothes like that. You know too well it's against the school rules.'' She said.
''I'll wear what I bloody like''.

Miss Taylor was horrified. Billy had never spoken in that tone to her before.
''Go and join Christopher Dyson in the corridor right now, the head can deal with you too''.
In a flash Billy produced a knife from his trouser pocket and held it at her throat.
Call that bloody Dyson in hear, now.'' He cried.

Miss Taylor was petrified and immediately opened the door and shouted Christopher to come back in the class. He walked back into the class with a huge grin on his face. Billy dived in front of him and waved the blade in his face. Christopher's face drained and his complexion turned sallow.
''Miss, you sit down over there and be quiet''.
''Dyson, do you feel scared now''.
Billy was playing with the blade in different areas on his face and slowly guiding the knife whilst putting a little pressure on at the same time.
''Billy, put the knife away, you've proved your point, yes I'm scared, bloody scared''.
''Billy, I'm frightened, please let me go home'', cried Sue.
''You two, move the desks and chairs and let Sue out. She wouldn’t harm a fly. She's not like you lot''.

After she had left they barricaded the door again.
''Billy, please I'm begging you, I won't bother you again and I'll make sure no one else does either''. He pleaded.
''You have to say that now I'm holding a knife to you face and none of your mates to back you up''.
''I swear Billy, I'm not telling you lies. Even my dad said this morning if I don't change he and my mum are going to put me in care and I don't want that. You can ask them yourself if you don't believe me. Honest it's the truth''.

Miss Taylor arose from her seat and slowly walked toward Billy and told him to put the knife down. She told him that she believed that Christopher was telling the truth. She also told Billy that threatening with a knife was just as serious as when he was being bullied and this was not the way to solve his problem anyway.

Billy slowly handed the knife over to Miss Taylor and sobbed into his hands. I'm so sorry miss, he blabbed. I can't take any more of the threats and gibes I've been getting. Next time I'll just kill myself. Miss Taylor put her arms around him and Christopher followed with tears streaming down his face. Miss Taylor led them out of the classroom into the corridor....

A Monologue. (1)

A Voice For Me. Thursday, February 10, 2005

I'm strapped and secured into my manual wheelchair. Thankfully, my escort is fourteen -year old Nicola, with a mind of a twenty year old. She's my cousin and best friend. Some people say that I'm good looking with my shiny red glints, short hairstyle and contrasting brown eyes. My complexion is fair and I'm petite in stature.
I get really frustrated with people who think I'm a boy. Surely if they really looked at me; they would know I'm a girl. It's obvious that they see the wheelchair first. Another major insult is that people talk to my carer and ignore me as though I was invisible. I know that my speech is limited but they will not give me the chance to even try.

Another gripe, take yesterday for an example; Nicola and me were chatting on a bus drive to town. The lady who was sitting in the front seat opposite me spoke to Nicola and stated that she thought I must be hard work. Nicola told her in an aggressive tone that I was not hard work, but others around me were. She also told her how much she enjoyed my company. I don't hear other children being told they are hard work, but I often hear it.
Do they think I'm an alien from another planet or what? I've a good brain in my head for thoughts and feelings. Only a body that doesn't conform to instruction. I could run rings around people like them and not with my legs either.

Nicola also ensures that I join in all the games and activities. Most weeks we attend the local sports centre for children with a disability. Another evening we go to the school youth club.
Shop till you drop. This is Nicola's favourite quote. We are never out of one. I'm beginning to think I'm in a maze of shops and end where I begun. It's great fun all the same.

In my home there are many devices that keep me from being bored. Yes! I easily bore if not stimulated. I have loads of cd's and a karaoke machine. A computer that also plays music and video's, with plenty of games and books too.
Yes! A dog, a small dog. A Yorkshire terrier. Sometimes he is attached to my chair for his brisk walk. Yes! I mean brisk walk. That is when he's not entangled in the middle of my wheels below.
I also see my community from a different perspective than most. Because of my uncontrollable body, my head develops a forward thrust. Then my sight reverts to the large pavement slabs. You've got it, litter-louts and dog excretion everywhere. Yes! Don't forget, my nose is the nearest to the ground. See ya soon.

My New Blog and entry.

I hope you all will enjoy reading my stories and other entries that I will be writing. These blogs are brilliant in achieving friends from around the world and sharing our cultures too.
The photo is of the place where I live and I captured it from the top of our famous tower. HUGSxxxxx