It's my birthday....

.... and for obvious reasons it's going to be a difficult one but it is made considerably better by Daisy the Curly Cat, the best cat in the blogosphere agreeing, very kindly, to write a guest post for me.

Thank you Daisy and thank you to your mommie for taking the time and for making me smile on a day I don't much feel like smiling.

A Shelter Cat’s Story.
Hi everyone! It’s me, Daisy!


I am so excited to get to write a guest post for my friend. My Mommie is a volunteer at a no-kill cats-only rescue shelter, so I wanted to share a story about one special kitty’s journey.

His mother was a feral cat who came to the shelter to be spayed and released, only it turned out that she was pregnant and due to deliver right then. This little kitten and his littermates went straight into foster care until they were big enough to live at the shelter, and he was named “Neptune.”


When Neptune finally went to live at the shelter, they stole some of his blood with a needle. Then they stabbed him with a needle two times. Next, they put some stinky stuff in his neck furs, and his sharp little baby claws got trimmed. And then they made little Neptune eat some yucky-tasting medicine. Our boy was a brave kitten and did not growl or bite even once. When he was big enough, he was also taken to the clinic and given some medicine to make him feel sleepy. When Neptune woke up, he was surprised to find that his “boy-parts” had been taken away! Neptune was a little sad about that, but he got over it by the next day, for the other cats explained that the medicines and tests and such were to make sure he was healthy and stayed that way for a long time.


Finally, Neptune got put into his very own little room with plenty of fresh water, food, toys, a soft bed, and a litter box. He was sick for a little while with ringworm, but they did not kick him out because of that. Eventually, Neptune and his littermates got moved to the adoption area. Little Neptune was very excited that he might get to have a Forever home of his very own.


Pretty soon, all of Neptune’s littermates were adopted. Nobody wanted Neptune. But he was a happy kitten by nature, so he kept busy playing with the other cats and kittens at the shelter. He was sure that someone would see how handsome he was and adopt him any day. People came to visit Neptune, and the other cats. Sometimes, people would look at him and say things like “this one is cute” and “how about him?” but they always picked another cat. He waited and waited, for six long months and did not ever give up hope.

Until one day, a nice lady that volunteered at the shelter put him in a carrier and took him to her home. She explained to him that he would get to live with her family FOREVER! And Neptune got his true name, which was Harley. You see, this is the story of how my brother Harley came to live with me. But Harley’s story is not unique. There are thousands of wonderful cats and kittens just like Neptune waiting for their chance to become someone’s Harley.



You can keep up with Daisy and Harley everyday HERE.

The song in my head....

'Heroes'..... A guest post

For reasons that I don't think I need to explain I seem unable to string together more than a few coherent sentences lately and it was thus that late last night I put a shout out on Twitter for anyone who fancied guesting here. 'Alex' (@redalexred), a fellow blogger and twitterer offered to help me out almost immediately. For those of you who don't know Alex, he is a serving RAF officer with more than a few exciting tales to tell on his own blog Balderdash and Piffle, so, I will duly instruct you to take a trip over there sometime and let him take over here for today!

Oh...and if anyone else would like to guest post here just drop me a mail or a comment, subject your choice!

Over to you Alex....

Heroes.

My first hero would have had to have been Trevor Francis. The first million pound footballer (well almost his transfer fee was £999,999 but it’s close enough!). He came from Birmingham City to Nottingham Forest and became my hero when he scored the goal to win the European Cup in 1979. He dived into the box in front of the goal to head in a cross by John Robertson, landing on a concrete “shot put” circle by the goal. I was allowed to stay up late and watch the game (which was very dull) but the goal got me bouncing around the room. MY club had won the European Cup! And the player that did won it…well he became my first real hero. I was 10. But footballers retire. They disappear and new ones replace them…Stuart Pearce, Stan Collymore, but they weren’t the same. They weren’t real heroes to me. Just other players

Since then I have had a couple…in the 1980’s and early 90’s Bruce Springsteen was a bit of a hero to me. He just made this excellent music that spoke to me. Talked to me. Took me out of a crappy, cold council house bedroom in the Uttoxeter and off to a place in the sun with cars, and guitars, and girls, and beer and music, and soft, soft summer rain, with barefoot girls sitting on the hoods of cars. It was like a new world to me. I slowly built up a collection of everything he had put onto vinyl . I made tapes. I would have weekends where I would play his music song by song, album by album, in consecutive order from first to last. I had a wall with posters of him, books on him…looking back, it’s probably a bit obsessive compulsive to be honest. But HEY! I was 14-16. It’s the age to get obsessive.

But for some reason he stopped being my hero. He stopped speaking to me and his music went off in a direction I disliked. All this fake folk stuff, a devotion to Pete Seeger he suddenly found. When everything he had said before was about his devotion to Phil Spektor! It was like he had turned his back on me…and so I turned my back on him…I can’t listen to anything he has produced since The Ghost of Tom Joad. I still listen to the earlier stuff. When he was raw, and, to me, true.

But one day I was idly watching a bit of TV and found a real hero.

I had got into the outdoors and was interesting in watching anything with mountains and hills in, and there was a programme about South Georgia. And the name Ernest Shackleton was mentioned.

Now I’d heard of him, he was some explorer dude. Went to the South Pole? Yeah that was it.

But I watched and heard his story. And was captivated. This man, he failed at getting to the Pole. He’d fallen out with Scott…but he did this amazing thing.

He took a ship to the Antarctic with the aim of walking a team across the whole continent. But the ship he was on had gotten stuck in the ice. The ship was stuck fast and then it was crushed by the ice!

He led his crew through almost 2 years of privations and hardships and discomforts, living on the ice-floes, watching their ship be crushed and sink. Transferring to three life boats, they lived on the ice until the ice broke up enough to sail the boats to the nearby Elephant Island. From here he took 5 others across the South Atlantic sea, in an open boat for over 800miles…aiming for the island of South Georgia. This he did, but managed to land on the wrong side of it, and then be unable to relaunch the boat. So he and 2 others walked across the island. Over mountains 4000foot high. Over glaciers, and through deep deep snow. With just a carpenters adze as an ice ax.

Once over the mountains – something that has only been repeated once by modern mountaineers with modern kit, he organised a rescue party and returned to Elephant Island to rescue his crew. NOT ONE PERSON DIED.

And Shackleton led this party. He was the one who made sure that all his crew made it home from an ordeal that must have been completely unimaginable.

Why did he become a hero? Simply because it takes a real hero to do this stuff. He got the right people, and he organised them, led them, motivated them…inspired them.

And this is what a real hero should do. He (or she!) should inspire us. They should make us want to be something better than we are. Do more than we are doing. Reach further than we are reaching. Yes heroes have their faults – Shackleton was a bit of a ladies man – but that’s what makes them more inspirational to me.

If these real people can have faults like the rest of us, but still do so much – then there is hope for me. Maybe I can be a better person if I do a little bit like they do.

If I push myself diving into the box like Francis did, knowing that I might land badly but still score the goal. If I can take people’s minds away from the boredom and drudgery of life like Springsteen did and open their eyes to a whole new world. If I can motivate people like Shackleton to overcome terrible cold and fear…well I might just be a bit of a better person…if I can use a little bit from each person maybe I’ll grow and change. And maybe that’ll make me be a bit of a hero to the people in my life that I want to be a hero for. My children.

Alex.

Surveying the wreckage

Well then, I seem to have found myself yet again surveying the remnants of something I once called a life. There's a few shards of little worth scattered around but save for those there is little at all that is recognisable left.

The impact of the initial blast is still with me, I can't eat or sleep, I've lost weight, I have a face like a doughnut as the result of my inability to stop dissolving into tears, I've had a continual horrible headache that just won't go away and I still can't stop shaking, though on the upside I am now tolerating the physical effects of the shock without resorting to the comfortable haven of Valium forcefully insisted upon by my quack in the first few days. Hey... the hit was good but for me it's a slippery slope and one I don't wish to slip any further down if I can possibly help it.

The only way I seem to be able to gain any control over myself is by walking, something I don't usually have a predeliction for, but this week, just purely to 'do something' and try to hang onto some degree of sanity I think I have pounded about 40 miles of pavement, literally!

To be honest the last week is a blur to me, I really don't recall much of it and I suspect I don't want to, I feel as though I was ushered through life for a few days by those around me while I just remained in some odd kind of dazed state.

My broken heart I am told will heal, though as yet I am far from convinced (some things you just know have changed you forever) but in front of me I now also have a logistical nightmare. I have no job, and the prospects of getting one seem pretty remote, I have no home of my own and the local authority have no intention of finding me one, apparently as a lone woman with a hamster I don't qualify, well eventually I will but probably about 10 years hence of my natural demise.....four children by three different fathers seems to be the answer to that problem but it's way too late for yours truly to make any headway there!

Even if I do find work I can't command a salary high enough to house myself in this area (or probably any area nowadays) and even then, if by magic I did make a suitable salary, as a bankrupt I can't clear a credit reference so can't easily rent privately and buying is obviously out of the question.

It all seems way too much to contemplate even if I had my head and heart together, let alone with in their current state of hurt and turmoil, people keep telling me 'something will work out' but I'll be damned if I can imagine what or how at this stage. I've been in some scrapes in my time but this one is the biggie both emotionally and practically for me, I've not been at this place before.

I feel like someone stuck a shovel in my hand, put me at the base of the Himalayas and told me to shift it all to the Isle of Wight by Monday!

What is it they say? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger?!

Whatever.

I don't know....

...if I should be here right now but I am, I don't know really what I'm typing, I just know I have to do something, I don't know what's going to end up on this page but then, I don't know anything anymore....

It's late, I'm alone and it's Friday, Friday's were always special. I'm typing through a valium induced haze and I'm completely lost and confused. The last week has been singularly the worst of my life and yes, right now I feel sorry for myself, bloody sorry for myself, pathetically so no doubt but that's how it is.

Just a week ago I was happy, I can still hear the laughter ringing in my ears and see the smiles, life seemed good and I had everything important to me. I had love.

Now I feel like I've been hit by a steam train and I'm left facing the resulting pain and bloody mess with absolutely no idea where or how to begin repairing the damage. The impact tore away half of what I was, of who I was... and somehow I didn't even see it's approach until the last moment.

And then it was too late.

There was no time left for me to avoid or stop the carnage. It hit with such force, taking with it instantly all that I knew as my life and hurling me to a place completely unknown, to another life, another world, where open wounds bleed unhealed and silent screams go unheard, where hopes wither and dreams die, where good turns to bad and precious memories taunt, where everything is a reminder of the past and the future is gone.....

"I know most of you have been where I am tonight: the crash site of unrequited love".

Abscence

This blog will be quiet for a while, no idea how long, days, weeks, months I don't know. I don't know anything anymore........

"Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,

Nor for any outward part:
No, nor for a constant heart!
For these may fail or turn to ill:
Should thou and I sever.

Keep, therefore, a true man's eye,
And love me still, but know not why!
So hast thou the same reason still
To dote upon me ever".

John Wilbye.

Biscuits and gravy and other stuff

The last couple of days have been kind of hectic here is gemmaks-ville, hell I didn't even log in here yesterday let alone post, quite a departure from my usual routine, no blogging, no Twittering, in fact I barely even turned this confounded machine on.....What's the world coming too?!

So what's caused this departure, well Wednesday Lisa and Punctuation managed to make it back here for another visit, unfortunately Fletch was away on business so he missed them but the three of us had a lovely afternoon just chattering away happily and being fed a late US breakfast of 'biscuits and gravy', prepared by Lisa who made my kitchen her own, which suited me just fine, she's welcome to it, kitchens and all that cooking palaver just aren't my forte. Amusingly to a Brit, 'biscuits and gravy' include neither biscuits nor gravy, or at least not as we understand them! For those of you who like me had never had this delicacy before, it's kind of a savoury scone with a sausage meat white sauce mix and a fried egg plopped on top...yummy, tho 'Ms picky veggie' here was duty bound to dispense with the sausagy bit! ;o)

Lisa goes back to the U.S today, in fact as I type she is emailing me from LHR's internet booth waiting to board, this is not a good thing. I shall miss her much.

Onto other stuff.

Yesterday was dole queue day again, what can I say, the queue gets tangibly longer each time I am there and the queue-ees resignation that nothing much is going to change anytime soon increases in tandem with the length of the queue. It's almost funny if it wasn't so sad, there are now so many of us squished in there at one time now that what was a fifteen minute wait is now closer to an hour and security staff have been employed to 'manage' the unwieldy snake of individuals winding around and out of the building!

All that said, this week there was a actually a job possibility for me, amusingly as 'one of them'....one of the staff sitting behind the dole queue desks putting the out of work through their paces. I am a little reticent about being in that position from a moral standpoint but I need the work and should I make it through the selection process perhaps I can do my little bit in not condescending to those I find on the opposite side of the desk. Who knows. Like all job applications (and there have been a few) I won't say much here unless I get it, it's all too boring and disheartening to keep on about it.

Oh...and my new phone arrived on the day promised, though as ever it seems is the case there was much kerfuffle in that achievement and mostly it was facilitated by me rather than those who's job it should have been! Pretty funky bit of kit though it is, certainly it is function over design in this case, it's about the size and weight of a small house brick but then it does have more in common with a small computer than a phone so there is adequate payback...or there will be when I finally get to grips with it! ;o)

...and for the few phone geeks who I know read this, a little inside onfo; Apparently the phone I have, the N95 was discontinued and replaced by the N96...but that has been so problematical the 95 has been reintroduced for a while at least....it ain't pretty but it works!

Another one bites the dust!

Can you believe it! the mobile phone saga continues, yet another has keeled over and gone to the great phone landfill in the sky. This is becoming almost comical if it weren't so damned annoying!

The latest in the line of casualties is the Nokia 6600, nifty little thing, if only the firmware were anything like stable, which it wasn't. To be honest the problems began on day one a few weeks back but I decided at that point I would persevere a while...I should have known better, perseverance never pays off where phone operating systems are involved. They either work or they don't and no amount of TLC will persuade them into appropriate behaviour!

So, today again I am sitting in again waiting for a courier to bring forth the next offering from my service provider, having once more spent half a day yesterday pointing out my consumer rights to O2's 'help' desk guys. Really, it shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't have to be a fight, they know the law as well as I do and life would be a whole lot simpler if they would just not try to pull the wool over the consumers eyes!

This time I am going to give the Nokia N95 a try, I can't say it's a phone I would have chosen but it was the best that was on offer, I'm pretty half hearted about it all now and I chose it for one reason only, it was the highest spec/value my contract would allow so if I don't like it, it can go the 'eBay way' and at least I can get top dollar for it.

My old phone might not be all singing and dancing but at least it is stable. Life's to short for all this carry on!

Weekends and best friends - Redux

So, jet lag recovered and having been re-introduced to the delights of Milton Keynes by Punctuation on Friday, Lisa and 'he who is never late but thankfully was' because I was so behind, arrived here early on Saturday afternoon.

The first point of note is that Hammy did not this time , unlike last time, manage to inflict a wound on Lisa significant enough to draw copious amounts of blood within the first few minutes! Things were looking good!

After much animated chatter, coffee and greetings Fletch had decided we should introduce Lisa to the Saturday afternoon ways of a Brit...and spend it in the pub taking in the Six Nations! I managed to negotiate on behalf of the women of the party a nice bar as opposed to a spit and sawdust pub, and off we went for an afternoon of Six nations entertainment and Guinness. Guinness of course is considered a food group and hence qualified as lunch! It was a lovely afternoon, Lisa and I of course took something less than avid notice of the game/games and whilst the boys shouted at the plasma on the wall we chattered away merrily for hours, though Lisa did make a very convincing effort at taking an interest in the boys stuff....


Eventually hunger got the better of us and we pottered across the road for an early dinner at the local Chinese where copious amounts of Saki were 'tested' and more hilarity and chatter continued into the night until our stamina began to fade and we made our way the few hundred yards back home to some serious Lincolnshire Poacher and a good red wine. Lisa, like myself was less than convinced by the single malts!

Sunday morning we woke bleary eyed, Fletch served up a 'full English' to further Lisa's British culinary training, she even ate the black pudding, be impressed and late morning they were ready to move onto their next port of call and left with hopes of making it back again later in the week for a short visit should their busy itinerary allow it.

It was fab to have her back again and considering the 4000 mile distance from Omaha, so soon again after the last trip was amazing!

It of course is never long enough, the good things never are and we could chatter on unendingly for days but that only makes it extra special when we do get together for real! :o)

There was one aspect of the whole weekend though that was particularly unbelievable....we forgot to eat the chocolate cake!! Hey ho, I'll just have to manage it on my own now!

Mothers Day

On the day we learn ironically of the sad news of Jade Goody's death.

I might may not have always been her greatest fan but recently I gained a new respect for her and there was no doubting her love for her children or how tragic the loss to her family and young boys.

The best I can do is a slightly happier offering, the perfect mothers day image, a black swan in Dawlish, Devon, and her recently hatched cygnets.

© Blackboard Associates Media.

R.I.P. Jade, way, way too young.

The bother with Billy Gates!

We all know this feeling! Enjoy....

Lisa is in London!

Yayyyyyy....as I type, bleary eyed and with my first hefty caffeine shot of the day firmly by my side, Lisa's flight is stacking over Heathrow waiting to land, Punctuation is winding his way through the melee which is arrivals to the gate to meet her, and from here on in this next week is gonna be a good one!

It's six months since her last visit to the UK, and since the first time, after years of countless daily emails, that we finally met for real. I kind of got used to having my best friend, she with whom I share everything, 4000 miles away but it's way better to have her here for real and I really didn't think we would get the chance again quite so soon...but we have and I can't wait! Excited? Who me?

Today is jet lag recovery day and then tomorrow both she and Punctuation come here for what will doubtless turn into a manic weekend of catching up, eating, drinking and making of much merry.....

Leave the Leffe alone Lisa! ;o)

Did I mention I can't wait?

Updates here and probably almost obsessively on Twitter, throughout! ;o)

The eggs factor!

This is amazing, or at least for me it is, brand new baby chicks hatching, live at a screen near you!

It's not of course always action packed, you need to keep popping back to check progress, but thus far I have managed to catch two make their great escape into the big wide world, fascinating stuff and of course with a massive eggs 'awwwww' factor.

Webcam chat at Ustream

Where I wish....

.....I was right now!

Somewhere in the Dolomites.

*Excuse the ever elegant 'helmet hair'...unfortunately unavoidable after weeks on the road living in a tent!