Bob's Pie

Bob said "I want to make a pie"
"Ok" I said
"What do you want to buy
to put in your pie?"
Bob said "Potatoes."
"Just potatoes?"
Bob said "Yes."

Whose Bob!

"Whose Bob" he said.
"Somebody I know
and you don't!"

by DiH

Quotes

"I hold that a writer who does not passionately believe in the perfectibility of man has no dedication nor any membership in literature" John Steinbeck

And funny ones (I love these useless snippets of information!)

"The first toilet in a block of public toilets is the least likely to be used and hence is the cleanest." Heard on the radio - could this be true I hope so as I now always use the first cubicle".

"All polar bears are left handed." - Come next time you watch a wildlife show I know that like me you will have to check which hand they use to grab that fish!

DiH

Trollphin

Today I saw a Trollphine

It moved blue and white

On land and on sea

Sometimes alert

Others comatose

It sits on its head

And stares into space

Eyes brightly bobbing.

By Dih

A picture of my dog

The poem and picture below (of yesterday) show a picture of my beautiful dog. We walk on the beach every day - weather allowing - and this poem - or start of a poem is about something that really happened.

My husband would be really angry if he knew I put a picture of her on my blog because he is convinced something will happen to her. But this picture kinda illustrates the work so hey ho! By the way Fox poo really stinks - and it really is sticky and stenchy (not sure that is a word). I could tell you the story of my dog. I have always really wanted a dog - I always had a dog as a child but my husband never really wanted one. But after 25 years of marriage the opportunity came up to get a puppy from someone at work. And I fell in love. I did con him a bit as I said it was on a two week trial - and it truly was. I was convinced he wouldn't give in and I would have to send her back but he fell in love. Head over heels in love. I do all the walking and spend more time with her but she is madly in love with him - perhaps it is a female thing again because our male cat loves me the most. But she is wonderful company and I am so glad we have her. I just wish I had more time to spend with her.

Anyway just a little note. This weekend I am going to try and write more about me. I realise that I may have given a strange impression of me - with so many things missing so will try to rectify this later.

D

For a dog

Sniffing and walking
Walking and sniffing
Wee smells on driftwood
Their aroma so good
For a dog
Oh my god.

She’s rolling in fox poo
What terrible goo
A sticky stench
That means straight home
To slippery bath time
Lather and laughter
Shaking and splashing
Puffy fluff ball dog.

Coming Back

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
To haunt me.

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
To break me.

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
To change me.

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
To surround me.

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
To make me doubt me.

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
To smother me.

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
Because I am sliding.

It's coming back
They're coming back
You're coming back
Because I am sliding under.

Young People's Poetry

My Box

In will put in my box . . .

A twinkle and a spark from a star so bright,

My mum's kisses, so soft on my cheek forever and ever,

A darkest secret, a silent deer peeping through the trees.

Also in my magical box I will put . . .

A wish from a fairy beneath the toadstools,

The silk of a spider's web on a winter's day,

And last of all my dream of all time, with me singing sweetly.

My box is fashioned from icicles and crystal so ghostly clear,

The hinges are solid gold,

With chocolate painted hearts on the lid.

I will climb a tree in my box,

I will fly the blue sky and surf the wavy sea,

I will go to discover the deep world.

Anna Eastick (10)

Breydon Middle School

Poetic Voyages

East Norfolk

Pub: Young Writers

On holiday - yeah

Its Saturday and I am on my first day of 9 days holiday from work. I am soo looking forward to it. I positively hate work at the moment - I have no control over what is happening - I am just doing what the boss says. On top of the that she has just given me a whole load of paper work to complete which is really pissing me off because all I do is paperwork and nothing to do with the job. Oh well at least money is coming in because at the moment that is all it is about - working to get paid. Sad really but I have to find a way to make 2009 more about finding a job that I like, paying off more debt and making sure I don't get any more. It can be done if I just try hard enough.

I have a great big list of things to do whilst I am on holiday.

1 Start creating my Christmas presents eg painting, wrapping, varnishing etc

2 Seeing the community link worker about making life easier in the future.

3 Meeting my friends from Uni

4 Meeting my friend from Work

5 Trying to do Wii fit every day

6 Making sure the dog has good walks every day.

7 Seeing Sam

8 Doing some of the meds training pack (although it pisses me off I have to do it in my own time!!)

9 Cleaning and tidying the house

10 Some writing - fiction and poetry

11 Continuing to sort my work from this blog and saving it to my usb pen. (More on that later).

12 Practicing darts cos at the moment I am crap.

I think that is enough for now - I will let you know at the end of the holiday if I managed it.

Facebook

My daughter has just got me into facebook. It is quite interesting yet I feel it will be just another time consuming thing and to be honest I prefer this blog. I like being able to say what I want, being able to publish stuff I am enjoying reading and stuff that I am writing. It feels good and now that I am looking back over it and reading stuff I can see how good it has been for my creativity. Hopefully I can find more time to blog - or I guess make more time. I hate it when I am too tired or too busy because I think it is a good part of my day.

Anyway back to face book. I have a few friends - somehow that still feels sad and people keep sending me stuff but I am not sure what I am looking at some of the time. I did get sent this amazing 'You tube' link to a video of a comedian singing about childbirth. It was so funny hopefully I am going to learn how to put it into my blog so you can all enjoy it.

I get emails telling me people have put stuff up on facebook for me to look up but when I look it just kinda takes you into this massive time wasting exercise. Anyway I think I am going to stick with blogging and just check facebook now and again.

Anyway back to my blog - I have been ready the children's poetry book I mentioned before and some of the stuff in it is amazing. I have loads to show you so next few entries will be them. Hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

More amazing young poetry

LONLINESS

Lonliness is pale blue

it tastes like spaghetti, boring and long.

Loneliness smells like a burnt-out candle,

it looks like rain dripping and dripping,

a boiling kettle boiling away.

Loneliness smells like air,

always there.

Natasha Fenn (11)

Breydon Middle School

Poetic Voyages

East Norfolk

Pub: Young Voices

I can't believe how amazing this is - never mind how young the poet is. I so hope this person is still writing, still creating.

Young Poetry

I found this book at a second hand book stall - it is a book of poetry by young children who go to school in the East of England. All of it is good, very accessible and great to read but some of it just 'blows me away'. This one is just amazing:

THE DOOR

I crept into my secret door and saw

A promise of a rainbow with lots of different choices.

I wandered into my secret door and saw

A field spread out with a stretch of grass

And a piece of paper, a sign for paradise.

I jumped into my secret door and saw

A bowl full of overflowing food, no one would go

Hungry and a room full of yellow happiness.

I strolled into my secret door and saw

A sharp rosebush with 1000 roses that

Would bloom in two days and a day full of white fragrance.

Grace Ward (10)

Breydon Middle School

Poetic Voyages

East Norfolk

Pub: Young Writers

What can I say but WOW - I hope this girl is still writing - this book was published in 1992 so she will be 26 years old now but this type of use of words can never be lost - surely?

An email on age.

I have had a crap week at work and spent most of the weekend getting wood chopped for the winter (to help save money and keep my lovely woodburner roaring in the lounge). So have had no time to blog. I start two nights a week darts which is gonna make me knackered and the diet has gone out of the window in the last couple of days. Oh well good news is I am on holiday next week and really looking forward to it. I am gonna do lots of christmas presents, try and work on the stuff I am trying to make. Think it could be fun.

Anyway quickly, I got sent this email by my lovely friend Anne (more on her another time) and wanted to share it with you. I am 47 and my next big birthday will be 50 so I kinda get the email. I wish I could find happiness in my work because if I did my life would be pretty good. But guess I can keep working on that.

George Carin on age.

(Absolutely Brilliant)

IF YOU DON'T READ THIS TO THE VERY END, YOU HAVE LOST A DAY IN YOUR LIFE. AND WHEN YOU HAVE FINISHED, DO AS I AM DOING AND SEND IT ON.

George Carlin's Views on Ageing.

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we're kids? If you're less than 10 years old, you're so excited about aging that you think in fractions.

'How old are you?'

'I'm four and a half!'

You're never thirty-six and a half.

You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key.

You get into your teens, now they can't hold you back. You jump to the next number, or even a few ahead.

'How old are you?'

'I'm gonna be 16!' You could be 13, but hey, you're gonna be 16!

And then the greatest day of your life . . You become 21.

Even the words sound like a ceremony YOU BECOME 21 YESSSS!!!

But then you turn 30. Oooohh, what happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk! He TURNED; we had to throw him out. There's no fun now, you're just a sour-dumpling.

What's wrong?

What's changed?

You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, then you're PUSHING 40. Whoa!

Put on the brakes, it's all slipping away.

Before you know it, you REACH 50 and your dreams are gone.

But wait!!!

You MAKE it to 60. You didn't think you would!

So you BECOME 21, TURN 30, PUSH 40, REACH 50 and MAKE it to 60.

You've built up so much speed that you HIT 70!

After that it's a day-by-day thing; you HIT Wednesday!

You get into your 80's and every day is a complete cycle;

you HIT lunch;

you TURN 4:30 ;

you REACH bedtime.

And it doesn't end there. Into the 90s, you start going backwards; 'I Was JUST 92.'

Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become alittle kid again.

'I'm 100 and a half!'>

May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!!

HOW TO STAY YOUNG

1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay 'them.'

2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.

3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. 'An idle mind is the devil's workshop' And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.

4. Enjoy the simple things.

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.

6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person, who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love , whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER : Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,but by the moments that take our breath away.

And if you don't send this to at least 8 people - who cares? But do share this with someone. We all need to live life to its fullest each day!!

About my blog

Yesterday I began reading back through my blog mainly to have a look at the poetry I have chosen and the poetry I have written. And guess what I am quite pleased, no I am very pleased with some of the writing. Even if I say so it ain't half bad. I am printing out the writing eg the fiction and the poetry to make up a file of bits I can read when I want. Anyway I have decided to go back over my whole blog and read it all before it gets too big and to also find away to get a few more people to read it. Trouble is some of it is a bit personal so I need to be careful about who I send the link to but maybe my email friend A and K who I used to work with might read it.

A quick aside

I have just heard the new Take That single on Radio One and WOW another brill song and they are going to announce some more tour dates - is there any chance I can get to see them again? The single is going to be huge and the new album called The Circus, well can it be anything but brilliant? I will be singing along to the new single very soon. I love singing in the car and when I am on my own. I have to sing on my own because basically I can't really hold a tune but I love to sing it make me feel better.

Anyway back to today's blog. I am still concerned about my work situation but not sure what to do about it. I have effectively been sent to Coventry by AB and the boss is being very undermining to what I am doing. I am seeing the doctor today to get some advice and see if there is somewhere else I can go to get help.

Anyway enough of this - I want today to be a positive day about what I do well and how to keep moving forward.

More Walt

When I Read the Book

When I read the book, the biography famous,
And is this then (said I)what the author calls a man's life?
And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my
life?
(As if any man really knew aught of my life,
Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of
my real life,
Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections
I seek for my own use to trace out here.)

Walt Whitman

The Complete Poems

I have just read a biography of James Herriot and somehow this poem seems appropriate. I grew up loving the Herriot books and dreaming of being a vet even though I know I could never deal with the cruelty and the suffering. So I found this book at a campsite where you could swap and pick up books and thought it would be good to read. But in many ways it was upsetting as the author seemed to have to make us readers see the 'real' James Herriot 'Alf' as a mere human with human foibles, in explaining he didn't always tell the truth about his stories. And it made me annoyed. Alf was a writer, he made things up for a living and if sometimes as he got older fact and fiction blurred did it really matter? Not to me I have to say. Apart from a wonderful biography on Amy Johnson that I loved and searched for any possible detail of my grandfather most biography have been a real disappointment to me. So I guess the moral is I should not read them, or perhaps only read ones that are historical, where I don't have an image of the person involved.

More Walt and a recovered photo

To a Historian

You who celebrate bygones,

Who have explored the outward, the surfaces of the races,

the life that has exhibited itself,

Who have treated of man as the creature of politics,

aggregates, ruler and priests,

I, habitan of the Alleghanies*, treating of him as he is in

himself in his own rights,

Pressing the pulse of the life that has seldom exhibited itself,

(the great pride of man in himself,)

Chanter of Personality, outlining what is yet to be,

I project the history of the future.

*Allegheny Mountains
–plural noun
a mountain range in Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia: a part of the Appalachian Mountains.
Also called Al·le·ghe·nies.

Walt Whitman

The Complete Poems

Once again all I can say about Walt is I love the words and the way of his poetry but whether I truly understand or need to is another question.

A walk on the beach

I take my dog for a walk on the beach nearly every day. Every day that weather allows anyway. Today was a beautiful day, the weather was really warm for October and it was really warm. The sun shone straight accross the sea, above the offshore windfarm on to the beach, so brightly it was blinding.

A walk on the beach always calms me down and makes me aware of the awesome power and beauty of nature. Somedays there is just me and the dog and it feels wonderful. Most mornings I meet a growing number of people who walk on the beach daily, some with their dogs, others just for the exercise, people like Neville, and Busters dad, the lady who always wears a coat even when it is sunny, the man with the equally barking dog, Colin, Ben's dad, the lady with the elderly golden labrador who always calmly ignores my dog and keeps plodding on.

Today as I was walking along I suddenly got a really strong smell of smoke. There was no smoke, just an incredibly strong odor. It felt so out of place, like it shouldn't be there, it shouldn't be poluting this wonderful sea air. And where did it come from. I guessed, correctly as it happens, that it came from the cliff top (dune top) but it was so strange to have such a strong smell with no smoke. You really can have the smell of fire with out the smoke.

And it made me a bit angry - I didn't want it to be there - I didn't want this human smell to be poluting my seaside, my sea smelling shore with the cleansing air and powering tides.

When I walked up the cliff to make my way home I found the source of the smell, builders clearing a derelict house that will be better cleared and tidied but even this did not make me glad to have fire smokey smells on my beach.

More on Walt plus others blogs

will be but excrementitious.

This was the picture I used for this line of the poem. I still don't really know what excrementitious means as it doesn't seem to be in any dictionary but is obviously based on excrement so this was the picture I chose. There is something strange about this poem, almost haunting but could have an evil undertone - for me so difficult to read. Is is about inevitable death and god and love or is it about someone taking anothers life because they think it is the right thing to do or they think it is right. I would love to know if anyone is reading this blog if they have an opinion.

And on this point and I want to talk about my friends latest blog entry at

http://curiouslyspeaking.blogspot.com/

the one entitled Happy Birthday. This is an amazing entry. So honest and warm and really made me want to cry but in a good way. I hope she means me when she is talking about her friends even though I almost not dare to think that. I remember when we first met she seemed to have real issues about friendship and told me that she didn't really keep friends. Me, in my inevitable way, thought that meant that she didn't really want to be friendly with me outside Uni and that would a some point just walk away for reasons I might never know. In fact I remember thinking at least she was honest enough to say this might happen.

But this has not happened and we have been friends for a while, I guess 3 or 4 years and are now considering returning to Uni to do our MA's, although probably on different courses. It was so lovely to read her honesty and warm. I remember when we first met thinking that she was very guarded and appeared a little afraid of her feelings. (I have told her that and I do know that she may read my blog! - Hi RC if you do read this) and thinking that I am too emotional for her - I probably still am but we found a way to cope with our differences. She has supported me through so much both at Uni and since and I hope I have supported her too. Anyway just to say I guess, what a brill blog and mainly what a brill friend. I love you (not in the Katie Perrie way, cherry chapstick) , but in the true friendship way. Although the does beg the question would I snog her??? Perhaps more on that another time.

And work

Another day at work, but then the weekend. Hope the day goes quickly and the weekend slowly and maybe the newspaper will have a new opportuntity. But if not this week then maybe next.

And I want to tidy my house, sort out some paperwork and letters, maybe a bit of gardening, kick back and watch TV, walk the dog, play Wii fit, laugh, make love and be happy. Not bad for a weekend!!

Maybe more today - later

Today is National Poetry Day

And I feel I should post a piece of poetry in order to celebrate this. But which piece. Another spike or maybe something else. Yes definitely someone else.

Conservation Piece

The countryside must be preserved!
(Preferably miles away from me.)
Neat hectares of the stuff reserved
For those in need of flower or tree.

I'll make do with landscape painting
Film documentaries on TV.
And when I need to escape, panting,
Then open-mouthed I'll head for the sea.

Let others stroll and take their leisure,
In grasses wide up to their knees,
For I derive no earthly pleasure
From the green green rash that makes me sneeze.

Roger McGough
Collected Poems

A poem dedicated to my beautiful little dog Dobbie who appears to be allergic to grass - it makes her little belly sore and red and she keeps chewing her feet.

And the second is by a poet that I am just discovering. I used this poem for a piece of Uni work and it has always impacted me even though I am not sure I truly understand it. I used it to make a visual web site linked to a piece of fiction about a mother and daughter.

To One Shortly to Die

From all the rest I single out you, having a message for you,
You are to die - let others tell you what they please, I
cannot prevaricate,
I am exact and merciless, but I love you - there is no escape
for you.

Softly I lay my right hand upon you, you just feel it,
I do not argue, I bend my head close and half envelop it,
I sit quietly by, I remain faithful,
I am more than nurse, more than parent or neighbour,
I absolve you form all except yourself spiritual bodily, that
is eternal, you yourself will surely escape,
The corpse you will leave will be but excrementitious.

The sun bursts through in unlooked-for directions,
Strong thoughts fill you and confidence, you smile,
You forget you are sick, as I forget you are sick,
You do not see the medicines, you do not mind the weeping
friends, I am with you,
I exclude others from you, there is nothing to be
commiserated,
I do not commiserate, I congratulate you.

Walt Whitman
The Complete Poems

I want to know more about these poets works.
I want to feel more.

Another hideous day over

Well I have got through another Wednesday. And yes it was pretty bad. It is very strange to have to work in a building with someone who will not respond with me in any way. When I am instructed, ney, ordered to stay down the other end of the building in order not to offend her. Well guess what (excuse me for this) bollocks!! I did speak to her, even though she didn't respond and I did try to just do my job as normal. But God was it difficult. All day I had this nagging tightness in my chest, like a heavy pain of anxiety that just sat there and 'plugged' at me all day. And then I got a headache, a guess it was a stress headache and now I am just thoroughly knackered. Oh well another one over. Next Wednesday will be the same, then the next should be ok, then two more to endure and hopefully it will be all over - until she returns. Of course the decision has been made for me I must leave, I must move on and find something I can do, enjoy, give me some flexibility and a reasonable wage. Hey easy then - not.

Today was my last session on CBT therapy and it went well - I have definitely started to feel better but the million dollar question is can I manage without my sessions. They have helped me understand much about myself and my illness and what has changed since I was last ill five years ago but they have also been an outlet, a place to release the stress of my work situation and without that next week and am concerned at how I will manage. I realise that the situation is not my fault - that you can't make people be kind and compassionate - you can't make people like you - only just get through life the best I can.

Never mind the weekend is nearly here and that is always a good thing. I can make it through the next two days and then rest and sleep and do lots of housework and tidy the garden and write letters and and and. Do I really want the weekend to come?

I really need to read a good book. I have finished a couple recently and haven't started to anything new and I need to. I must sort through my 'books to read' pile and pick one I fancy. Maybe something not too heavy and not too long. Maybe that is not the best reason to read a book but it is an ok reason because at least I am reading something.

Anyway my bed is calling. See ya.

It's wednesday again

Am I the orange or the tomato?

Another Wednesday - another day to endure at work. Strangely I almost want it to be so horrible that I have to leave, so horrible that the excuse is made for me. I suspect that is not going to happen - just this terrible grottiness until the end of the month and then the dread until 'her return' and waiting for the boss to say something vaguely horrible but nothing you can actually pin on her. Oh well - another day another dollar - isn't that the saying.

But on a good note, yesterday ended up ok. Mainly it was just me at work and I had a nice day. Me and 'my lady' did stuff and poodled about. We did try to go for a walk but it rained. That was the story of my life yesterday. I was in complete anxiety and dread and it went ok. So maybe that should tell me something? Not sure what but something.

Slug Stick

On the beach today I saw a stick that looked exactly like a slug. It was brown and slimy and thicker in the middle than the ends. I had to kick it with my foot to see if it was a large slug that wiggled and slide away. Or a stick. I was so disappointed when it just rolled, stiff and stick like, away down the dunes.

Dih

More Spike and me

OBERON

The flowers in my garden

grow down.

Their colour is pain

Their fragrance sorrow.

Into my eyes grow their roots

feeling for tears

To nourish the black

hopeless rose

within me.

Nervous breakdown

Bournemouth

February 1967

Confused Brain


I hope this is going to be a better day
than it feels
I couldn't sleep for worry
Then I couldn't wake my mind.
Am I well at all
Or is it just my brain confusing me.

Hopeless person

October 2008

Dih

Floor face

Jesus in the toilet

I wrote this first draft of a poem (and yes I am going to be brave enough to call it the start of a poem whilst visiting to my friend Becky today). I think it will need work but here is my first scribblings.

Jesus in the toilet

In my friend's toilet
just above her cistern
sits a picture of Jesus.

A rectangular picture of a man
in a mock wooden frame
who looks like the global iconic image
of Jesus.

This man is caucasion and bearded
with piercing blue eyes
that follows my descending underwear
and taunts my streaming bum.
He stares at me whilst I wee.
As I urinate into the bowl
I feelthe eyes burning into my back
and assessing my bits.

My friend says 'It's not Jesus.
It's just a man with a beard.'

And wonders why her visitors have
such a obsession with the painting
in the toilet
But if all of us think it is Jesus
staring down from above the cistern
Then might it be Jesus
and a man with a beard.

Dih

I hope I can make this better but if anyone is reading this blog I would love to know what to do to make it a poem. What to do to make it better?

Poetry and Words

Poetry

The drab voiced domain of intellectuals

who freely tell you what is not

but never tell you what it is.

Dih

Poetry and Words

Anger

Over the last couple of weeks I have recorded and watched a very interesting program on the BBC about anger called 'Losing it:Griff Rhys Jones'. This program has really made me think and want to challenge my own anger and to understand the role it has to play in my overcoming illness.

It was really interesting to understand how angry grows and how the physical symptoms are very recognisable and so can be stopped before getting too strong. Also to understand that some anger is healthy (part of fight or flight) but even then it should be controlled into a positive outlet.

My situation at work has made me very angry, this is becoming an obsession and then it is making me ill. So a solution is possible. Stop being so angry. Should I forgive the person who I feel has wronged me? And is that forgiveness a way of taking back control in a healthy way or it is just a way of being superior to the other person. (That old martyr for the cause or just want to be immortal arguements). But the truth is it doesn't matter because if it makes me well and it makes my life easier and happier then that is ok.

Don't get me wrong some anger is necessary - you have to be able to stand up for yourself otherwise you just become a doormat and others will take advantage. I believe this can't be helped it is our nature as human beings. But you can tell people that their behaviour is not acceptable in a way as to make it clear how you are feeling but without causing greater upset and politely getting your point accross.

I know if I control my anger I will control my obession and then not become so ill and stressed. Also in the program Griff looked at alternative methods to help you deal with anger like physical activity (in his case boxing) but I realised that I could use the Wii to help me physically work out and that walking the dog on the beach already helps. And Buddist meditation. I have wanted to go back to meditating for some time and I feel that will help. This weekend I am going to get my book and tapes out and have another go. It made me feel so wonderful before and certainly helped my mood and illness. And the quiet time is so lovely - trouble was I kept falling asleep.

I really think this program should be shown to everyone to allow them to think about their anger and how they might deal with it better.

Anyway enough of that for now - just go and watch this program online if you can - it is so worth it. In fact I wish I had kept both parts to watch again when I start to feel angry.

A goodbye to my anger (maybe)

****

Send me simmering then

To my grassy grave

Leave the empty fireplace

Liberate the slave

Look last at buttercups

And the carters lane

The blinds are pulled

The kettle boiled

Was it all in vain?

Spike Milligan

31 August 1990

Incredible cabbage face

God I'm tired

Hey, I have another busy day today and I am really tired already. I feel like my head and my heart is going to explode but I have to just keep going. I wish my life was easier; I wish I could make my life easier; I wish I enjoyed my life more. When I think about this I am the only one that can make this happen - and I should. I have before - I can again (I wish i would automatically capitalise in this blog!).

I went to bed at 8.00 pm last night and finished my book and then slept for 11 hours. It was a disastrous evening and I want to put it behind me, be proactive and move on. - No probs.

A few words of Spike to finish I think.

THE FUTURE

The young boy stood looking up the road
to the future. In the distance both sides
appeared to converge together. 'That
is due to perspective, when you reach
there the road is as wide as it is here,'
said an old wise man. The young
boy set off on the road, but,
as he went on, both sides of the
road converged until he could
go no further. He returned to ask
the old man what to do, but
the old man was dead.

Spike Milligan

Dublin

January 1972

Which end of the road am I at? The one converged or the one open to possibilities and life?

Amazing images

I was sent an email with these amazing images in it. Some of them just 'blew me away' so I thought I would share them with my blog.

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Today is wednesday - I loate wednesday's at work. They are awful dealing with grotty atmosphere and foul attitude. Oh well just grin and bear it as it is only for a month but I feel it is going to be a long month.

I read my AOL horoscope every day - just for fun really as I get a regular daily email but today was really odd - and just so on the button that it actually spooked me a bit.

1 October 2008
The desire for advancement, both personal and career-wise, could cause you to consider the possibility of furthering your education in some way, Diana. Someone close to you, probably a woman, could wake you up to the advantages of actually returning to school and getting an advanced degree. You may want to wait a little bit before actually deciding, but something has shifted within you and it's time for some kind of change. Be prepared!

I am seriously thinking about going back to Uni to do my MA and am being spurred on by my mate Becky, so you can see this horoscope really fits. Is it just one of those lucky co-incidences or something else?

Another spooky thing happened to me yesterday - I was talking at darts about a funny dream that I had that involved being at West Ham football ground - or one in my dream - and the man next door to me talking about it once being a airport but they shut it down because the planes kept crashing. The last plane to crash was the one my grandfather flew in 1936 that crashed into the English Ocean. (the bit about my grandfather is true, by the way). It was a very really dream even though I have never been to West Ham football ground, don't support them and sure it would be much nicer than the place in my dream. Anyway, when I told this at darts my dart friend Tracey said she had dreamt that night that she was wearing a bridesmaid dress in West Ham colours and it was very weird and she had dreamt about West Ham. Is this some kinda omen to do with a wedding, a plane crash and West Ham - probably not but spooky hey!

Talking about football - which I wasn't really - 'Go on you Reading - a 3 - 0 spanking of Wolves - keep it up and we could be back in the Premiership.'

Have to go to face a crap day at work - oh fuck it!!

First Impressions

Tall. She was very tall, so tall that I had to step back to speak to her. There was no chance of eye contact. Truth is I am not a very tall person so this is not an unusual situation yet it was. I am more used to men towering over me. Don't think I have ever met a woman this tall.

Not that she was a freak or anything. She didn't have those large features that make some very tall people seem odd. Her face although the right size for her body, she definitely wasn't a pin-head, was pretty and her features beautifully sized and shaped. You know a sort of TV face, perfect shaped nose, large brown eyes almost child like but made up with long mascaraed lashes and two tone eye lids that shimmered in brown and gold. Her lips were perfectly full, but not overly like you would want to stick her on the window or think of Lesley Ash!

Her hands were big, but not shovel like with long pianist fingers that were immaculately manicured and the nails painted with a gentle and subtle pink, not to pink or bright as to be common and not too faint either. Her hands were feminine. I didn't find myself searching for a possible Adam's Apple or seeing how huge her feet were, or seeing if she walked legs wide apart and perched on her heels stumbling inappropriately and walking too heavily.

This was all woman.

A different poet

SPIDERLIKE

Spiderlike
the questions spin
pulling answers
from within.

Spiderlike
they swing about
on themselves turned
inside out.

Though to do it
there must be
something solid,
like a tree.

Which is not
a part of you
to attach
the answer to,

Yet, (I spin again)
That tree,
is it really
part of me?

What is out
and what is in?
Spiderlike
the questions spin

Am I here
or am I there?
Statements sparkle
in the air

Answers to
the questions why
hang like sickles
in the sky.

Every one
a question mark
cutting into
what is dark.

Spiderlike
the spinning night
swings upon the
inner light.

Love More or Less
Sydney Carter
1971

Another word from Spike

HOPE

Just when I had made my today
Secure with safe yesterdays
I see tomorrow coming with its pale
glass star called hope.
It shatters on impact
And falls like splinters on cruel rain
And I see the red oil of life
running from my wrist
onto tomorrow's headlines.

Woy Woy, New South Wales

December 1971

Hidden Words

Spike Milligan

Published 1997

A good day and a terrible day

Yesterday was a contradictory day. I had a good day at work even though, as per normal I was anxious about it and then just before I left I tried to sort out a problem with someone who is being very rude. And it was like trying to speak to a tree. No not a tree as I love trees. It was like trying to talk to a concrete bypass - one of those slashed through the middle of a lovely area that just sits there unmovable and unhealable and unable to be anything but ugly. The other person was horrible. She told me she hated me. She told me she didn't want to work with me. She said I had 'dropped her in it' at work. She sat with arms crossed and stiff negative body language and said horrible things.

I asked for compromise. I asked that we could work together without the arguing, without the constant bad feeling. But no, she said she did not snap at me, she was not rude it was all me.

And now, as I look back I feel so hurt. This is all about my illness. If I had broken my leg or had a serious operation or anything else I would get sympathy. But no - because my mind broke I am just judged - I am told it is 50/50 because we both have depression. I know in my mind I did nothing to this person - she was just someone I worked with and when I was ill I admit she did not cross my mine. Depression is a serious illness, it is a selfish illness - I admit that but a deliberate illness - no, no, no. No-one would be in the darkness because they wanted to, surely? I didn't want to. I really didn't want to.

And now I don't want to have to listen to this tirade of abuse, this horribleness because I was ill. And the boss just sat there and listened. And do you know why? Because she agreed with it. Because she was allowing her to say it because it is what she wanted to say but couldn't say it. So she used her puppet to be rude and horrible and cruel.

And that is what having a mental illness allows others to do to you. That is what you have to deal with, not just the illness, and the darkness, and the self hate and the paranoia, and the pain, and the distrust of your very thoughts. You have to put up with what others think. Because having a mental illness means you are not perfect, means you can't be trusted to be 'normal' - it means others can speak to you however they want because anything you say in defense will just be 'your illness'. That is what admitting you have depression means.

Today I have to remember the good things. I have to remember that I have many people who love me, that I have friends who have helped me through, that I love my family and my family love me. That I am not a bad person just someone who has a brain that sometimes doesn't behave. Sometimes it is not to be trusted.

I have to remember that each day is beautiful; to wake up; to see the sunshine; to feel the rain; to speak to people I love; (and maybe even to those I don't); to walk on the beach with my beautiful dog; to stroke my lovely cats; to hug my daughter; to tell my daughter I love her; to cuddle up with the man I love; to smell the grass; to see a pile of freshly laudered washing (I know sad but it does it for me); to hear the birds sing; to see my lady smile; to write: to hear and sing along to music; to read a book (good or bad); to smile; to laugh; to care; to love; to be me; to be alive.

Words (Spike's and my own)

DREAMS II

Am I too, then, a fading dream,
for that's how other people seem
As I see them day by day?
Does looking make them fade away?
Perhaps if I start looking fast
I'll be the one who's looking last.

Corfu

August 1981

From

Spike Milligan
Hidden Words

PANDORA

My dreams are melting
They lie in pools on the floor
When I was five
My dreams were endless
Now, I have one left
Dare I dream it
or should I phone the police?

Spike Milligan
Hidden Words

Ditty

'My head feels hot' I said
'Well take your hat off then!' he said
'I have no hat.
And no, my head feels hot inside.'

By DiH

I am not sure this is going to be a good day for me - please, please don't let me be sliding back. Take more meds and feel the goodness is all I can try.

A Promise

Every day I think about things I want to put on my blog, ideas, opinions, pieces of writing, photos etc. And every day I don't achieve this. My promise is to try and blog at least twice a week. It means that at least I am writing something at least twice a week.

A couple of weeks ago I attended the MA end of year show at Uni. Some of the work was very good, in fact absolutely amazing. A video piece on memory and reality just blew me away. I just had to watch it and watch it and was lucky enough to see the artist to speak to him. I picked up a novel written as part of the Writing the Visual and managed to read the first 3 chapters but ran out of time. I so wanted to read the whole book - it was good - very good. Some of the work was not so good (or I had real trouble engaging with it - or even understanding it). The trouble is now I really want to do my MA. Next September it would be lovely to be studying again, even if only part time, to be able to put together both written and visual work would be so good. But it is only a dream. My current financial situation will not be sorted in a year, it may not be sorted in ten years!!

This year has been pretty awful for me - my illness, my mental state has been difficult, teetering on the edge of 'that kind of madness'. I know I am lucky that my friends and family have supported me and not allowed me to dive into the abyss but it still sometimes seems very welcoming. It still sometimes seems the answer. I miss Uni so much. I miss the creativity, I miss the conversation, I miss being an aged art student. It felt the most like 'being me' that I have felt since being a child. I wish I had worried less about fitting it and just lived the dream to its fullest extent. But hey, that is me always worrying I am not good enough, always seeing how good others are and missing my own potential.

I have been off line for a while, my hard drive failed. Now it could have just been one of those things and I guess that is what I thought it was and then something really strange occurred to me. The last photographs I uploaded were from the disused mental hospital in Norwich. I published a couple in my last blog. But some were very haunting, they appeared to hold the pain of past patients and were almost painful to look at. Did these photos make my hard drive fail?

A friend managed to save most of my data - he managed to rescue many of the photos but guess what most of the ones from the hospital have gone - only 3 remain - and they were the two I published and one showing my car. Even typing this is making me feel a bit 'creepy up the spine'. Ah well - I will never know and unfortunately I will never get to look at the photos properly.

I really should be in bed as I am very tired - I just want to sleep but didn't want to go to bed without blogging something. I will end with some of my 'words'. A piece I started a while ago and carry around in my latest handbag notebook. I think it is a work in progress.

Contradiction

am i a contradiction?
light and dark
bacon and cream
like chocolate
glass half empty
glass half full
am I
that kinda girl?

do they love me?
do they hate me?
normal.
am i
normal?

i wake to a heavy pain
that turns to feathered happiness
am i
that kinda girl?

do they hate me?
do they love me?
normal
am i
normal?


running, walking
smiling, frowning
unable, static, still
and eating
eating
bread and brown sauce,
cookies and ice
is that the kinda
girl I am?

do I love me?
do I hate me?
normal
am I
normal?

am I
a
contradiction
or
normal?

By DiH

I'm back - poetry and an interesting day

I have been missing from my blog for some time for a number of reasons. Firstly and annoyingly I have had loads of trouble with computer, lost all my favourite places and then couldn't even get online. I am online at mo but not through my usual AOL interface - having to use Internet Explorer (which I hate). Have lost all my friends email (oh why didn't I back them up) and all my favourite places. (Is my bank really a favourite place????). But I am back online and determined to blog.

I have also been unwell - don't want to go into it too deeply but just to say the same old problem. My mind giving way and playing tricks on me - making it difficult to function and have reasonable thoughts - but oh well, hopefully I am coming out of it now. May be more on that later.

I was lucky enough to have the chance to visit a very old and disused building. Someone I know was guarding it and alittle wary of the possible ghosts and goulies so I went to keep them company. This building was an old hospital, an old mental hospital - how appropriate I hear you ask? - but it was amazing and very large. For the last few years it has been mainly used as offices and it appears that the last staff only left a few months ago. I was such a wonderful experience and I was able to take my camera to record the building and to record parts of its history. In places it was very creepy. Like the history of the building and the people within it were still there but in other places it was just large and empty and slightly damaged. Lots of exposed fireplaces and covered wooden panels and signs of people working.

I liked this image because it shows the history - a faded damp and damaged sign that asks a question of a empty, overgrown, disused building. Apparently there was an old chapel in the grounds somewhere. I never found it. I wonder how that would have felt? Outside there was some wonderful trees and the last remenents of some roses once tended and loved by a long gone ground keeper.

I have a hobby - well I have many hobbies but one of them is I like to buy second hand poetry books from car boot sales and charity shops. Anything that catches my eye and could be interesting and cheap. I read them and some I put up for sales on Amazon. It can be a difficult thing, I sometimes really like them but if they are worth lots of money I feel I should sell them. Things being financially a tad difficult at the moment (that's an understatement!!) but sometimes I really don't want anyone to buy them so I can read them again and make them part of me.

This is a poem from a book I found this way. I believe it must be a local writer as it is published locally although some time ago. I don't like all the poems, some I don't really understand but others touch me. So I will publish some here so that others can also learn to love them like me.

The book is called LOVE MORE OR LESS BY SYDNEY CARTER (and is for sale on Amazon!!!). This poem is called ADVICE (page 4)

ADVICE

Do what

You're told

and

Be yourself

they said

Think young

Grow up

Look lively

and

Drop dead

You too

Can be a

Teenage

Centenarian

and Honest

Butcher

and a

Vegetarian.