Maestro

 

I've always wanted to lead an orchestra, but unfortunately I don't read music or play any instruments. I've been told conducting an orchestra is easy though. All you need is a stick. Here's a video of me leading our local Orchestra.

 

The joys of aging disgracefully

They say people should grow old gracefully. What nonsense. I intend to grow old disgracefully and will probably die trying.

Why can't we behave as we like when we get older? Most of us have behaved properly and cared about what others think of us most of our lives. As we grow older, now's the time to venture into a little mischief and enjoy how others around us deal with it.

Men especially. They can get away with most mischief and people think they are cute because they are of a "certain age". They can be eccentric in the way they behave, or in what they wear, and no one seems to mind.

An old acquaintance of mine, for instance, wears his trousers pulled up all the way to his nipples. They are held there by braces and a wide belt pulled tightly round his chest. With a white checkered shirt and brown woollen pullover, both tucked in inside the trousers, and covered by a tweed jacket, and he's good to go. He's the fashion icon of today's older society. He's a sex symbol for women who don't care.

But in his defence, why should old people not wear what they want?

What is really wrong if an old man wears two differently coloured socks? And you ladies, if you don't wear socks, why not wear different earrings just to be individually fashionable? Why do you have to conform? Why not wear a bra on your head instead of a hat? I once went out shopping wearing my underpants on my head. Mind you, I had difficulty that day putting my legs through my hat.

As you get older you can afford to be a little mischievous and have fun. I went to visit an old lady the other day. Much older than me, she was. As we sat there talking I noticed that she had a suppository sticking out of her ear. I told her about it. She replied: "Oh goodness me ... I wonder where I put my hearing aid?"

Be adventurous on your way to having fun. You know you want to. You've been waiting all your life to do something new and exciting and getting away with it.

If like me, you're a Catholic, go to Confession and ask the priest, "Have you heard any good gossip lately?"

Put a stick of celery through someone's window and shout, "The Triffids have landed. The Triffids have landed!"

Or put a carrot on your shoulder and tell people you are a vegetarian pirate.

Or pour cream on your shoulder and tell them your parrot had diarrhoea.

Put some cake, custard and jelly in someone's handbag and say, "Don't trifle with a woman's affections!" 

When you wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom; and you don't know what time it is. Just open a window and beat a drum, or blow on a trumpet or bagpipes. Someone is sure to shout: "Who's making all that **** racket at three in the morning?"  

Behaving disgracefully is real fun. You can get away with it as you get older. When they asked me to send a urine sample at the hospital I sent them the dog's urine instead. That really confused the doctors.

I often send a friend of mine to give a blood sample to be tested instead of me going to the hospital. They never check. They just take the card your doctor gave you and then take a sample of your blood for testing and then advise your doctor of the results. The last time this happened my friend could not go so he sent his daughter instead. My doctor told me the result showed that I was pregnant. 

How to be boring without really trying

 

These days many people want to be interesting, fun, a joy to be with, the centre of attention, the life and soul of the party. As a result, many people are false. They try too hard. They are not being themselves and you can see it a mile away. But as someone once said, they all want their ten minutes of fame, or even longer. They all want to be a celebrity. With everyone competing for the limelight one cannot distinguish one falsehood from another.

Be different. Be memorable. Be boring, just like me. You will stand out. People will remember you as the grumpy one at parties. The stickler for details at any conversation. The one who holds up discussions and drags every meeting twice as long as needed and as a result they all agree in order to get home quickly. Be the one who brightens up any gathering just by leaving it.

Here's how to do it:

First of all, always start a conversation by harping on about the past. Say phrases like, "In my days, years ago we did it this way ... During the recession when we were poor and we had shortages ... You youngsters have never had it so good, when I was your age ..." There is nothing like mentioning how better the past was to irritate every discussion and to drag it down to pointless comparisons. I have enjoyed much entertainment in starting such arguments and seeing people divide into age groups and defending their time in history and their way of doing things. I just sat there and smiled inwardly.

Another trick is to focus on details. Every subject and every discussion has its details and if you are clever you can bog the whole thing down by focussing on something and innocently ask clarification or questions. Play the innocent and confused and pretend to ask for advice or information. As an example, at a cookery class once I asked the difference between a pot and a pan. Someone said a pan is for frying. Another disagreed. And before long they had all gone off the subject of cooking and were debating the various kitchen utensils and cutlery.

Another (innocent) question at another gathering was the difference between a pamphlet and a booklet. And which one should we print to announce an event or other and the relative differences in costs involved.

How about asking where does the universe expand into if the whole of space is itself the universe. Or if there are so many stars in the universe then why is space so dark. This one got many technical responses from the group none of which made much sense but were the source of great amusement to me.

Try these at your next gathering. Do you say scone or scon? Pronounced much shorter. And do you put the cream first on the scone and then the jam or the other way round. And do you use raspberry or strawberry jam? And do you pour the milk first in the cup or the tea first? And do you hold the cup with your little finger sticking out or not? Why do Americans say elevator and we say lift? Side-walk and pavement. Gas and petrol. What is the difference between a raven and a crow? With a little practice you'll have a whole set of topics to be boring with at any meeting but you'll certainly be memorable.

Soup ... ... ... that's another thing to be boring about. Do you put the spoon to your mouth sideways, or front-wise? Now there's a dilemma. And is it OK at the end to tip the plate slightly to get the last few drops of soup?

Another trick in your armoury to being boring is gathering a lot of useless facts which you can propound on at length whenever the opportunity presents itself. Like the mating habits of the silverfish. The real meaning of Absolute Zero. And what would happen if the earth slowed down to the point where it stopped spinning. I have enjoyed many an hour or three watching peoples' eyelids drop slowly as I continued explaining one theory or another and asking them questions to ensure they stay awake. People are so polite these days and would remain there listening rather than being thought rude by asking you to shut up. But one thing's for sure; you'll be always memorable.

And finally, when someone asks you how you are never say "OK thanks!" Go into details about everything that ails you and all the pains that you have to suffer every day and how it makes your life difficult. The more information you share, even if unwarranted, the better. I remember once we used to meet every week as members of a committee or other. One week I asked this woman, "Hi there. How are you this week?" To my amazement and surprise she said she was a little constipated. How can you be a little constipated? You either are or you are not. Then she went into details about her visit to the doctor and what he did and said and prescribed. She put me off our group meal afterwards. But she won the Lifetime Achievement Award in the services of Boredom.

Be different. Be memorable. Be boring. Good luck.

Pentecost

 

ACTS 2:1-4

When the day of Pentecost came, the believers were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like a mighty rushing wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw tongues like flames of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.

Pentecost is a Christian festival celebrated the 49th day (the seventh Sunday) after Easter Sunday. It commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles and other followers of Jesus while they were in Jerusalem celebrating the Feast of Weeks (Acts 2:1-31).

The term Pentecost comes from the Greek Πεντηκοστή (Pentēkostē) meaning "fiftieth".

If we read the whole passage, we learn that this must have been a very traumatic experience to the Apostles and all others gathered together in that house in fear of the authorities. Christ, their leader, had been crucified and then raised from the dead. Many had seen Him and were witness to His resurrection and were there when He was raised to Heaven. Now they were in hiding. Confused. Not knowing what to do next.

Suddenly there's a mighty sound and flames of fire on their heads.

Now I don't know about you; but if my few hairs suddenly turned into instant combustion I'd certainly not sit there quietly praying.

We do not have a record in Acts of how the followers of Jesus reacted to the fire; but we know what happened next.

They were filled with the Holy Spirit.

This means that, the Holy Spirit, the third person in the Trinity, let's call Him the Spirit, (soul) of God, descended on them and became one with their very souls.

Their soul and the Holy Spirit were one. And this union of the human and the Divine manifested itself in many ways. For a start they all had the courage to speak up. They were no longer afraid. These very people who days before had ran away when Jesus was arrested, suddenly gained new courage given them by the Holy Spirit.

They knew the truth about Jesus and His Resurrection and they were no longer afraid to keep the secret to themselves. They had the courage to stand up and shout their truth to all willing to hear. They were not afraid of the consequences.

Jesus had sent them His Holy Spirit as promised.

John 14:15-21

"If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate, to be with you for ever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because He abides with you, and He will be in you."

And what's more, by receiving the Holy Spirit the followers of Jesus gained a new ability as well as courage. They were all able to speak in different languages that up to then they knew nothing about. There were many people in Jerusalem at the time.

There were "... Parthians, Medes, and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome, both Jews and converts to Judaism; Cretans and Arabs - we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!”

To the early disciples, the Holy Spirit was real indeed. They had experienced the power of the Holy Spirit. They received Him at Pentecost in tongues of fire and they were able to speak to the crowds that gathered in different languages. Peter explained to the crowd that the disciples had received God's Holy Spirit.

The disciples, and early Christians, now knew for certain that the one and only living God they believed in, whom Abraham, Moses, and the prophets had spoken of, had sent His only Son Jesus to earth. Because they had met Jesus. They also knew that Jesus had sent His Holy Spirit upon them, because they had experienced the Holy Spirit.

To them this was all a reality. Something they had seen, experienced and understood. Not some sort of Holy Trinity puzzle of three in one yet each one separate from the three. 

Because the disciples had experienced the Holy Spirit, He became such a force in their lives, giving them strength to spread the Good News that Jesus had taught them, enabling them to live as Jesus had lived.

It was they who handed on to us this mystery that in one God there are three Persons. Because they had experienced it in their lives.

Can you imagine that? Imagine that you suddenly not only had the courage to proclaim your belief in God at work, or at the supermarket, or in the street; but you also could speak your beliefs in French, German, or any other language that you do not know to make yourself understood by your audience.

Think about it for a moment. Not only do you suddenly have the courage to speak up; but you can do it in any language.

To the followers of Jesus gathered there on that day, receiving the Holy Spirit was a real event in their lives. It was not something they had read about in some old scrolls, or heard about it from some prophet. To them this was real indeed. And it became real for the rest of their lives. When they met and spoke about receiving the Holy Spirit they meant exactly that.

And afterwards, even though some people had been baptised as followers of Christ, it was not until they too had received the Holy Spirit that their lives truly changed. (Acts 8:14-17).

Imagine for instance some major event happening in your life. In future, when you describe this event to others who had not been there; to you, this event was and will always be a reality. It happened. You witnessed it. You were there. And now you can tell others about it.

Sadly though, with the passage of time, the story of Pentecost, or more precisely, the significance and understanding of receiving the Holy Spirit, has been diluted over the years.

People these days do not understand what it means to receive the Holy Spirit. Some don't even believe it. Others think that it was a once in a lifetime event. It happened years ago the the followers of Christ. What has it to do with me right now, today?

The reality is that we can all receive the Holy Spirit into our souls today. All we have to do is to believe it is possible; and to sincerely ask God to send us the Holy Spirit.

I have known people with the Holy Spirit. They are usually more at peace with themselves and the world than the rest of us. Assured of God's love and protection. Always calm and able to speak God's Word and to give advice when needed in a peaceful reassuring way.

I find it difficult to describe such people and their demeanour and attitude to life. But believe me, once you know someone with the Holy Spirit you will certainly know and notice that they are different to other people.

For whom the cock crows

 

Sunday Mass was over and everyone had left. Father Ignatius was clearing up in the Sacristy when Arthur, a young Altar Boy, came in sheepishly.

“Are you still here?” asked the priest.

“Yes Father … can I ask you something please?” replied the young teenager.

“Fire away …” encouraged the priest as he sat down.

“I think I committed a sin yesterday … and I took Communion today.”

“You think … are you not sure? What did you do?” asked Father Ignatius gently.

“I was at the Karate Club yesterday. I go every Saturday. During break some of the boys were talking about Jesus and they were mocking and laughing. They were telling jokes about Him and saying bad things!”

“I see … and what did you do?”

“That’s it …” hesitated the young lad, “I did nothing. I didn’t want to tell them about Jesus in case they laughed at me. I just kept quiet and smiled.”

“I understand …” said Father Ignatius pausing slightly, “have you told Peter about this?”

“Peter Marsden?”

“No … not Peter Marsden! Who is he anyway?” asked the priest frowning a little.

“He is our Karate Instructor … we call him Sensei …” replied young Arthur.

Father Ignatius smiled.

“I meant St Peter …” he continued, “you know him? We have a large statue of him at the back of the church.”

The boy nodded.

“What do you know about him?”

“He was a disciple of Jesus,” said Arthur.

“That’s right … and like you he was a little hesitant when asked about Jesus. When Jesus was arrested Peter denied knowing Him three times. And then the cock crew and reminded Peter of what Jesus had said … do you know the story?” asked Father Ignatius.

Arthur nodded again.

“The important thing to remember Arthur,” continued Father Ignatius gently, “is that Peter was sorry at what he had done; and Jesus forgave him. And Peter went on to become head of the Church.

“I quite understand that you felt a little intimidated yesterday. Jesus understands it too, and He forgives you just as He forgave Peter.

“But remember this Arthur … as you grow up there will be other occasions when you’ll be faced with the same situation. People will mock Jesus, God or your religion. This is the way of the world I’m afraid. Jesus has many enemies in this world, despite all He has done for us.

“It’s at those times when I pray and hope that you’ll have the courage to stand up for Jesus and for your beliefs.

“What happened yesterday is understandable in the life of someone so young as yourself.

“The sad tragedy Arthur is that grown-ups often deny knowing and loving Jesus for fear of what others might say. In a free society as we enjoy these days, compared to the times of Peter, grown-ups still shy away from knowing and loving the Lord. They keep their heads down in embarrassment.”

Father Ignatius looked at the child in the eye and asked.

“You’re learning Karate you say?”

Arthur nodded.

“Good …” said the priest, “that’s a defensive martial art. Isn’t it?

“You should remember always to defend the Lord, Arthur. Not with your fighting skills, but with your wisdom, your pure soul and by the way you live.

“The Good Lord will help you to know what to say and when to say it.

“You’re the Karate Altar Boy … defending the Lord with your soul!”

Arthur smiled broadly.

“Now you’d better hurry home before your parents start worrying about you.”

As the young boy turned to leave Father Ignatius added, “and don’t forget to pray for me … I need prayers too you know!”

Reviews

 

Going Up

Father Ignatius parked the car outside Somerton Towers and out he came with Monsignor Thomas and Sister Martha.

Monsignor Thomas was a small man, rather rotund in stature with a red chubby face which looked like an over ripe tomato. His short body and little legs made him walk like an overfed duck, waddling from side to side as he moved.

Despite her sixty-something age, Sister Martha was very energetic and could out-run anyone half her age. She headed for the front door first and opened it for the Monsignor.

The three walked through the foyer and headed for the elevator only to be met by Theodore Luxton-Joyce, the eccentric millionaire well known to Father Ignatius.

“Hello Padre …” he shouted at the top of his voice attracting the attention of everyone in the foyer, “rather unusual seeing you here … don’t tell me you’re a businessman in priest’s clothing …” he chortled loudly.

Before Father Ignatius had time to respond to Theodore a bell rang once and the elevator doors slid open. The four of them waited for the elevator to empty and then they entered as the doors slid shut again.

Theodore was first at the controls.

“Where are you going Padre …” he asked.

“Right to the top …” replied Father Ignatius.

“Ah … same here … 13th floor … right to the top … nearer to Heaven … here we go …” joked Theodore.

The elevator moved swiftly upwards as they stood quietly looking at the numbers change on the illuminated control panel. As it reached the figure 12 it stopped violently with a loud screeching noise. Monsignor Thomas lost his footing and nearly rolled on the floor like a giant pumpkin had he not been caught by Sister Martha and Father Ignatius simultaneously.

“Blast!!!” shouted Theodore, then realizing what he’d said, “Oh … I’m ever so sorry Padre … and you too Padre … and … eh … Miss … eh … Sister … sorry Sister …”

They said nothing and as they recovered slowly from the shock Theodore took control once again. “Ah … this panel here … it should have a phone,” he said as he pulled it open.

He picked up the phone and after a second or two a voice was heard to say: “Engineers here … how can we help you?”

“Well … I’d thought you’d deliver us a pizza …” replied Theodore angrily, “but in the meantime perhaps you’d care to let us out of this cage …”

“Which elevator are you in?” asked the engineer.

“I didn’t happen to ask as I got in … it’s the one on the left in Somerton Towers …” snorted Theodore.

“Ah yes sir … it has just shown up on our emergency panel … we’ll be with you shortly …” replied the engineer as Theodore put the phone back in its place.

“Well … I hope they won’t keep us waiting for hours …” he said angrily, “I have an important meeting in a few minutes’ time …”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can,” said Father Ignatius calmly.

“I don’t like confined spaces …” he grumbled.

“May I suggest you loosen your tie a bit Sir, and take short breaths to calm you a little …” suggested Sister Martha.

“Oh … I’m calm alright …” he retorted, “I’ve always been calm … born calm … that’s me … not crying like the rest of humanity … but I have an important meeting you know …”

Then looking up he added.

“Now normally in films there’s a trap door in the ceiling … I could find it and we can escape …”

“I hope you don’t expect me to climb up there …” said Monsignor Thomas; “I would not fit through any trap door … no matter how large …” he smiled nervously.

Theodore looked at him and politely bit his lip before saying anything.

“I tell you what Padre …” said Theodore finally, “I’ll climb up there myself … I bet there’s a lever up there which will release the door open … I’ve seen it done in films many times you know …”

“There’s no need for that …” interrupted Father Ignatius gently, fearing a heart attack or worse mishap happening to the elderly eccentric, “I’m sure the engineers will be here in no time …”

“But … but … you’re denying me the opportunity to impress your friends here Padre!” said Theodore winking at Father Ignatius with a smile.

“No one is climbing anywhere …” said Sister Martha having missed the joke completely, “let’s remain calm until help arrives. Perhaps we could recite the Rosary …”

“That would take years …” interrupted Theodore without thinking, “eh … what I meant to say … oh never mind …

“Padre … you have not introduced me to your friends … How do you do Sister and Padre … I’m Theodore Luxton-Joyce …”

“This is Sister Martha from the Convent near St Vincent Church,” said Father Ignatius introducing his companions, “and this is Monsignor Thomas representing the Bishop …”

“The Bishop? That sounds grand …” said Theodore.

“Yes … I represent the Bishop …” said the Monsignor with a smile.

“I must say … I’ve never been trapped in an elevator with two priests and a nun …” laughed Theodore, “in fact I’ve never been trapped in an elevator ever …

“Can you imagine … if the elevator cables broke and we fell to our death … the newspaper headlines tomorrow would say … Nun and two priests go down!!!
Ha … ha … ha …” he laughed heartily.

They smiled politely and said nothing. Theodore looked at his watch and said,

“Damn those engineers … my meeting should have started twenty minutes ago.

“It’s very important … what? It’s a hearing about some stupid objection or other … Coston Enterprises are being blocked by some non-sense argument from some group or other …”

“Did you say Coston Enterprises?” asked Father Ignatius politely.

“Yes … that’s me …” replied Theodore, “I own Coston Enterprises … we hope to build a farm on a stretch of land up the hill West of town … pigs mainly … high demand for pork these days … bacon … sausages … pork chops and all that … I had my eyes on two pieces of land to choose from, so I settled West of town … just up the hill …

“Unfortunately some group or other has complained to the Local Authority. Spoiling the environment … they say. What nonsense I say … That’s what this meeting is all about … I’ve come to put an end to all their objections … can’t stand in the way of farming you know … business is business after all … what?”

“That’s us, Theodore!” said Father Ignatius.

“Us what?” asked Theodore, still not getting the point.

“We are the ones who objected to your proposals,” continued Father Ignatius as Sister Martha stopped reciting the Rosary abruptly, and the Monsignor gestured secretly to Father Ignatius to say nothing more.

“What?” shouted Theodore, “you are the Diocesan Property Holdings Trust Fund? Why didn’t you say so … old boy?”

“Yes … Theodore …” continued Father Ignatius, “it’s a Trust Fund managed by the Bishop. The Monsignor and I represent St Vincent Church, Sister Martha represents the Convent nearby.

“The land you propose to farm on backs onto our joint land, the Church and the Convent. And we feel that a pig’s farm … well … it may cause some smell … and …”

“Some smell !!!” shouted Theodore, “Some smell you say? It will be a right proper stinko Padre … I can assure you … have you never been on a pig’s farm … what? They do smell to high Heaven I tell you … but that’s what pigs do … they smell all right … but they taste nice too …”

“Yes … quite …” mumbled Father Ignatius politely.

“Well … why did you not tell me Padre? Instead of all this objection nonsense … I’ve had to read reams of papers because of you … well not read them exactly … just looked at the headings and decided it was all nonsense.

“You have my phone number have you not? You could have rung me or Rose … that’s my wife …” he said to the Monsignor and Sister Martha, “jolly nice woman … what? The Padre here married us … I wouldn’t have had the courage if it wasn’t for him …

“Yes … you should have phoned me Padre and we could have discussed it over a cup of chai and biscuits …”

“I didn’t know you own Coston Enterprises …” said Father Ignatius.

“And how was I to know you’re the Diocesan Property something or other …” chuckled Theodore, “ha … ha … just had a thought Padre … the stink from the pig’s farm wouldn’t half compete with your incense on Sunday … what?”

“So … we objected on the grounds …” Father Ignatius hesitated.

“Oh … think nothing of it … Padre” interrupted Theodore, “I’ll build the farm on the other piece of land … nearer the highway … easier access and all that …

“I can always plant various vegetables just behind your land … no objection to that I hope? Or would you prefer sweet smelling flowers … what?”

Father Ignatius looked at the Monsignor who shook his head and smiled. Sister Martha said that they’d have no objection either to turning the land to arable use. Just then the engineers opened the elevator doors and let them out.

“Well then …” suggested Theodore, “I propose we go to the Grand Hotel to celebrate with a sumptuous lunch … my treat … I used to go there with Rose you know … jolly nice … the restaurant that is … oh … and Rose too … of course … she’s jolly nice too … what?”

AMAZON LINK

KINDLE LINK

 

Work Culture

 

What is happening to peoples' attitudes towards work these days? When I worked in London we had to work all the hours that God sends. As a manager I was on call 24/7 and often got phoned at weekends and on holidays.

Now people want to work from home. They say it's more efficient. They can stay in bed till mid-day and pretend to be busy in their pyjamas. (Doing what?)

Those that turn up at the office want to dress casually. No more three-piece pin-striped suits as in my days. They want to be in T shirt, shorts and flip flop sandals. It's more relaxed they say. Personally, I think flip flops and bikinis are more suited to the beach rather than an office in the City.

I remember the trend starting about working from home and being more "eco-friendly" towards the planet. I hate that term which is often used to hide a personal advantage to yourself rather than caring one hoot for the environment, or global warming, or future generations. 

The argument was put to me that working from home would save everyone commuting to London by train, bus, car or motorcycle. Think of all the energy that would be saved. Less gas, less pollution, less traffic on the roads ... less work !!!

If I gave way to their demands I'd be the only one commuting to London and sitting in an empty office block talking to myself. (Which I often do in my family).

The door-keepers and security guys wanted to work from home. Don't ask me how, but that's what they wanted. Also the restaurant staff, (cooks, waitresses, cashiers etc...), all wanted to work from home. It didn't occur to any of them that if we all worked from home we would not need security or restaurant staff. But then, in those days thinking was not in fashion; very much as it isn't today.

Can you imagine if everyone worked from home? You ring for a taxi and the taxi driver gives you instructions on how you can drive yourself to where you want to go; or walk if you have no car.

You ring for a plumber or electrician and they tell you how to mend it yourself.  

What if doctors worked from home? No, that wouldn't happen. They would not want you to interrupt their football on TV. They'd probably answer the phone and tell you if you do not feel any better in three months time then ring again.

What if postmen and all delivery staff worked from home? They'd phone you and you go to their home to collect your letter or parcel. Amazon and such like would save a fortune on deliveries. Same for pizza deliveries and other food deliveries. I may be on to some bright business idea here.

And another thing about today's work shy society. Why can't people be more precise and punctual with their appointments? Only this week I have had utility type people like electricians, builders and the like, tell me that they will arrive between 1:00pm and 6:00pm. That's five hours I'll have to stay at home watching football on TV waiting for them to arrive. And they were late. 

An electrician who advertised that he is always punctual told me he'll be calling between 20:25 and 20:30.

That's five years I'll be waiting for him to change a light bulb!

Ghosts

 

Do you believe in ghosts? Have you seen one?

I've always wondered about ghosts. Why is it ghosts are always seen in old houses, mansions or castles? Spooky places like that? 

Has there ever been a ghost seen at the frozen food aisle of the local supermarket? That should send a chill down your spine. Or a frisson if it's a French supermarket.

Is it perhaps that ghosts don't like the limelight? Is that why they don't appear in well-lit places like the supermarket?

Do ghosts just appear there standing and doing nothing? Or gliding and vanishing through walls? 

Why aren't they busy doing something when they appear? For example, has anyone ever seen a ghost riding a bicycle? Or making an omelette? Or having a shower? What would a naked ghost look like? And would the water go right through him or slide over him?

What is the intention of a ghost? They appear out of nowhere and go "Wooooh ... Woooooh ..." to frighten people. People run away and leave the ghosts all alone. Alienated from society. Surely it would be wiser to befriend people and sit down with them for a cup of tea and a chat.  

A friend of mine was convinced his car was haunted bu a ghost. He said he often saw someone sitting next to him in the passenger seat whilst he was driving. It happened mostly on long journeys on the highways. Never in slow traffic in town. Maybe that particular ghost had used up his air-miles and needed a ride in my friend's car. Do ghosts travel from one place to another; or do they stay in one place haunting people there?

Anyway, my friend got in touch with an exorcist and asked him to shoo the ghost away. Tell him to move to another faster car perhaps. The exorcist took the car for a drive to see if the ghost makes an appearance. 

When he came back from his ghost test-drive he declared that there was no ghost but the engine needed a change of oil. As it happens. the exorcist was also a car mechanic in his spare time because ghost hunting did not pay much.

By the way, do ghosts always speak the language of the country where they appear? Or can you have, say, a Greek speaking ghost in England? Or a Spanish speaking ghost in France?

Would a Greek speaking ghost carry a dictionary so he could communicate properly in England? And would he speak English with a Greek accent?

I once saw a ghost out at sea. I don't believe in ghosts really; but I did see something, or someone, who looked like a ghost.

It was in an old fishing trawler in the North Sea just off Scotland. I was in my cabin. It was dark, cold, and the sea was very rough. It had been raining and very windy all day. It was at about midnight. I was afraid that we might sink. I had been sea-sick several times. There's nothing like the smell of vomit combined with the fear of seeing a ghost. I must have cried a little because I could feel the tears trickling down my leg.

Then I saw her. It was a female ghost. She stood there and said nothing. She reminded me of Gloria Gaynor.

 At first, I was afraid, I was petrified ... and now I am imagining the look on your face reading this!!!

Imagine

 

FATHER FRANCIS MAPLE

 

CLICK HERE FOR WEBSITE

 

 

Mystery at Status Manor

 

AMAZON REVIEW - Five Stars *****

Being on vacation and getting immersed into such a GREAT book is BLISS

What a wonderful book, so well written by this writer that you think you ARE THERE! Seeing it all unfold but NOT QUITE getting the PLOT. Excellent story! Highly recommended.
Mariette Vedder

AMAZON LINK HERE

Priorities

 

Dear Dad,

How are you? I phoned you several times and left messages on your answering machine. I texted you and you did not respond. Now I am writing an old fashioned letter.

I'm getting married in the New Year and would like you to be there. Mom will be there too. I know the two of you have not spoken since the divorce, but it would be nice to have you there as a family on our day.

Your son.

Dear Son,

Thank you. I shall not attend. Nothing to do with your mother.

Dad.

Dear Dad,

Why then? Why will you not attend Dad?

Your son.

Son,

Simply because you did not attend my wedding!

Dad.

Dear Dad,

But ... but ... I wasn't even born at your wedding with Mom. That's why I did not attend.

Your loving son.

Son,

That's a feeble excuse. I still would have liked you to have been there, carrying the ring perhaps ... but your mother insisted we got married before you were born. So if you're looking for a scapegoat then look at her ... not me. I was happy to wait until you were born and able to walk with the ring in church before we got married. She was so unreasonable from the start. Getting married quickly before anyone noticed!

Dad

My Dear Dad,

This is all news to me. You mean to say Mom was pregnant when you got married? Was I a wanted baby? Am I the reason you two got married?

I spoke to Mom and she said I was a loved baby well before I was born. And that you two loved each other so much. But you wanted to wait for 18 months before you got married. Why did you want to wait for so long, by which time I would have been a toddler?

Your loving son.

Well son,

If you really want to know; I was selected for the world series golf tournament which, including the preliminaries, would have taken that long until we reached the finals. I had a good chance of being a finalist and really had no time to waste getting married and raising a child whilst practising my game daily and playing various elimination rounds up and down the country.

Did your mother understand? NOOOOOO ... She was too unreasonable and wanted to get married as soon as she got pregnant. So this is what we did, and you missed my wedding, and now I am missing yours.

By the way, I wonder if you've invited this year's golf champion? Just asking.

Dad.

Yes Dad ... he'll be there.

My dearest wonderful son,

I'll be there. I am so happy for you.

Your loving Dad.

Palm trees everywhere

 

Very strange thing happened round our neighbourhood the other day. I was in the kitchen enjoying my breakfast of toast and ginger marmalade when there was a loud grinding type noise outside in the street. It sounded like heavy machinery. The sort of noise you hear big engines make.

I rushed to the front door and there outside our house was this huge truck, with an even more huge crane on the back, un-loading a truck full of fully grown palm trees ready planted in big concrete containers. I quickly asked my wife if she had ordered palm trees from the Internet and she denied it. I always start on neutral ground by blaming someone else first.

This truck was full of palm trees; about twenty at least, all swaying to and fro in the light breeze which was soon to rise to a full storm as my blood pressure increased. The driver was standing in the street and operating the crane which picked each tree by the base concrete container, lifted it off the truck, and gently lowered it onto the sidewalk. He carefully placed each tree side-by-side on the sidewalk regardless as to whether they blocked peoples' driveways entrance or not. He had already un-loaded four trees and blocked my driveway with my car trapped on my property.

I went to the driver in my pyjamas ... I'd better rephrase this ... the driver was not in my pyjamas. He was by the truck. I was in my pyjamas, and I was the only one in them to be precise.

As I was saying, before your thoughts interrupted me ... I went to the driver and shouted over the noise of the crane machinery to ask him what he was doing delivering all these trees and blocking peoples' driveways. By this time, I hasten to explain, he had un-loaded about seven trees and had blocked my neighbour's driveway too.

He switched off the crane and explained that he knew nothing about it. He was only the delivery man and had been told to un-load the trees side-by-side, as close to each other as possible, on both side walks on both sides of the road. He explained that there were another six or so other trucks on their way to unload their trees in our street.

The trees were heavy and in their concrete base it was impossible to move them once they were parked on the side walk.

I decided to go in and phone someone in authority, whilst a few other neighbours came out to complain and another two trucks arrived with their loads.

Who do I phone in such circumstances? I can hardly phone the police and say there are some palm trees causing a disturbance outside!

I decided to phone the mayor's office and, to cut a long story short, I was transferred from one department to another, each disclaiming responsibility for trees, road maintenance, potholes, noise disturbance, and everything else to do with everything else in this universe. Why do they employ so many people in so many departments if none of them deals with palm tree deliveries?

Eventually I was transferred to a surly sounding man appropriately named Mr Gardner, would you believe.

He asked abruptly, "Name?" I gave him my name.

"Not your name," he said, "what's the address?"

"It's a garment worn by women," I replied, "what's that got to do with the palm trees situation?"

After a few seconds' silence whilst he digested the information he asked again, "Where do you live?"

"In a detached house North of town not far from the park and golf club ..." I explained when he interrupted me.

"Look madam ..." he said, "I haven't got all day to deal with this. I also have fifty flamingos to despatcth today ..."

"How dare you call me madam" I exclaimed in as manly a voice as I could muster, "I am a HE!"

"A he what?" he asked.

"A he man," I said, "how dare you insinuate I am a woman just because I am wearing pink pyjamas!"

"I am sorry ... I have a cold ..." he apologised.

I felt sorry for him and tried to suggest a remedy. "What are the symptoms?" I asked.

"They are yellow cartoon characters on TV," he replied, "what has that to do with my cold and your palm trees?"

Anyway ... years later ... after a phone conversation which lasted a lifetime, it transpired that the trees were destined for the Avenue Park in the South of town and not Park Avenue where we happen to live.

He promised to have them re-directed, but in the meantime we had six trucks delivering about one hundred trees blocking all the driveways on both side walks all along our street for at least three days, before another load of trucks came to take them away. 

The Times they are a-changin

 

Yes indeed, The Times they are a-changin. Nothing is the same again. Every day, every time you hear the news you hear of something that's never happened before. It's always something new that the world has never experienced and you wonder ... what is happening to the world? Whatever next? 

Sometimes it is little changes with potentially greater effects or repercussions, sometimes it is big changes with immediate big repercussions. 

Have you noticed for instance something called shrink-flation? We have it over here. It's the same packaging on food, or other products, but what's inside is less. Instead of 500 grams which is what you used to buy it is now 450 grams and the price has gone up by a few pence. Same with liquids, instead of 1 litre it is now 900 ml, (most people don't know what ml is anyway and they think they are buying 900 miles of drink).

The customer does not realise that the price he is paying has increased twice - first a few pence more in the price of the goods, and then he gets a little less in the content of the packaging.

Another change I noticed is in attitudes. People seem to be angry all the time. No more politeness and courtesy. Drivers get quickly irritated with each other. When I'm driving and I stop at a crossing to let pedestrians get to the other side, the pedestrians just walk past without a thank you or a wave. I know that as a driver I should stop; but a wave or a smile from pedestrians costs nothing. It's the same when I hold a door open for someone. At the supermarket recently I held the door open for six people who filed through like cattle totally ignoring me.

And another thing, I was at a church wedding the other day. Whilst waiting for the service to start I noticed at least three people looking at their cell-phones. What is it with people always wanting to check the cell-phones? Even in church? The WiFi reception was no good anyway because I could not get the football scores. The groom had asked me to let him know how his team did in the League Finals. 

I also noticed that when they said their vows the bride did not use the word "obey" any more. It's a pity. Because it used to lend a bit of humour to the occasion.

Which reminds me, I wonder if any policeman has ever managed to keep a straight face while telling a woman she has the right to remain silent. But that's another story.  

Anyway, at this wedding the priest went on about marriage being for ever and ever and he made it sound like a life sentence. Also, en-passant he mentioned that we are dust and from dust we will return to dust. I don't know how relevant that is to a wedding ceremony. Anyway, just to make sure I now don't dust any more. It could be someone I know in the vacuum cleaner.

I also met my cousin Bernie at the wedding. His wife has just had twin girls. They called one Kate and the other Duplikate.

Bernie always pretends he knows more than he really does. He always acts all intellectual and talks about Mozart when I know for sure he has never seen any of his paintings.

Anyway, I was saying that times are really changing. And they are. When we got back from the wedding we saw a beggar just by our door asking for money. We've never had beggars in our neighbourhood before. My wife gave him some of her cakes and cookies which she had prepared earlier. A few days later he called back and gave her a book on how to cook.

Thinking aloud

 

Living on Earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around the sun every year.

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on.

Birthdays are good for you; the more you have, the longer you live.

Happiness comes through doors you didn't even know you left open.

Ever notice that the people who are late are often much jollier than the people who have to wait for them?

As one door closes another opens outwards and hits you in the face.

If Supermarkets are lowering prices every day, how come nothing is free yet?

You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.

Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.

Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened.

We could learn a lot from crayons: some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, some have weird names, and all are different colours ... but they all exist very nicely in the same box.

A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

Have an awesome day, and know that someone who thinks you're great has thought about you today!

And that person was me. 

Working for God on earth does not pay much, but His Retirement plan is out of this world.

What would you do for Christ?

 

CONCENTRATE ON THE LYRICS PLEASE

When love grows cold

 

When love grows cold stop sleeping in the fridge.

You know how it's like. It happens to many couples. Over the years people drift apart and what at one time was true love and affection becomes just a relationship between two people who just know each other.

Contrary to popular belief, love is not a feeling. It is an action, a decision. True, at first we are attracted to another person. We like that person. We enjoy being with them. We grow closer and we love them in the sense that we care about them. We care about their well-being, their hopes, fears, aspirations and their very existence.

In time, sometimes the caring diminishes. It shouldn't, but often it does. And that's where the decision, the action, to care and to love once again comes in. We make the decision that we will continue caring despite all odds. We will be true to our promise made to each other.

But what about our relationship with God? Does it too grow cold with time? Do we subconsciously distance ourselves from Him? Does He become just a genie we have in a lamp, or in a cupboard, that we run to when we're in trouble and need His help?

How do you think He feels about that?

Let us think about it for a while and make our decision ... once again.

Gone with the wind

 

It was a lovely summer’s afternoon that Sunday when we sat as a family and enjoyed a sumptuous Sunday lunch. We had roast beef as well as fried chicken which had been marinated in all sorts of flavoursome spices and herbs; accompanied by an assortment of vegetables including of course the dreaded Brussels sprouts.

I have never understood why God created this particular vegetable; but create it He did. No doubts He has His reasons and one day we’ll discover how beneficial it is for us and how silly and uneducated we have been to dislike it so. However, for now at least, most people I know don’t seem to like it.

I don’t count myself amongst them, of course. I’m neutral in this respect. I would eat Brussels sprouts if offered to me but I would not go out of my way to ask for them in a gourmet restaurant.

But that Sunday, Brussels sprouts were on the menu. I believe they were mixed with walnut pieces and fried onions, if memory serves me right.

We have had Auntie Gertrude from Australia staying with us for a few days so we also invited Father Frederic to Sunday lunch. The two had never met each other so we sat them next to each other around the large dinner table.

It was a lovely meal with pleasant conversation on no particular subject and all subjects that came to mind.

After lunch, we all moved to the living room to enjoy a nice cup of coffee and continue our discussion.

Father Frederic sat on the sofa leaving a little room for someone else to sit beside him and a few minutes later, as we all made ourselves comfortable, Auntie Gertrude came in and sat beside the priest.

Sadly, and embarrassingly for her, as she lowered herself in the well upholstered settee she accidentally broke wind with a thunderous loud noise.

I should mention at this stage that Father Frederic is somewhat hard of hearing; and he therefore did not notice nor pay attention to what had just happened.

I immediately tried to cover Auntie’s embarrassment by asking him loudly some Ecumenical question that came to mind.

As I leaned towards him speaking a little louder than usual I noticed his face going a little pale as the tell-tale strong smell reached my olfactory senses.

He looked at me accusingly as Auntie got out of the room saying “By dingo cobber! I forgot the biscuits in the kitchen … they're special I brought from Adelaide ... I’ll go and get them!”

As she got out of the room, followed by the rest of the family, she added somewhat undiplomatically "they are not as bland as those English biscuits!"

I was left alone with the kind old heavenly priest and the smell from hell.

Suddenly, the Ecumenical question became totally irrelevant as my mind went blank and my hurt pride and wounded honour urged me to shout at the top of my voice “It was not me!!! It was her!!! She did it and went out leaving me sharing her stench.”

But being the stupid gentleman who I am, I said nothing. I kept quiet and protected a lady’s pride and honour by my silence.

“Would you like a biscuit?” I asked Father picking up the large serving dish which was there all the time.

“That’s a lovely piano …” replied Father Frederic getting up from his seat and moving towards the open window. “Our church organ needs mending … it doesn’t pump so much wind in the pipes as it used to.”

Somehow, the uneasy conversation which followed and the fresh air from the open window, diluted the heavy atmosphere in the room as eventually the rest of the family re-joined us accompanied by an innocent looking Auntie Gertrude.

Since that day, Father Frederic keeps his distance from me whenever we meet.

Excerpt from the book

NO WORRIES MATE

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