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| 1. Am I wrong to feel resentful? | Posted by CaptainCrumpet on Wednesday, July 01 (8 reads) |
| I left the army several years ago when I became pregnant with our first child. My husband is still serving. My civillian work has always been higher paid and with less hours than my husbands work. I have held a couple of very senior positions which I have to give up each time we move. I am also the primary care giver for our children. I do the late nights when they are up and I also take the time off work when they are not well. Due to a full time job, and looking after 2 small children, I rarely get to know poeple where we live, and find life in general pretty lonely (my family all live overseas). My husband has a lot of evening 'work functions', which is fine, and even if I did know people here, I am generally too tired to make the effort to go out. As a result, I really resent my husband, and his work, and I hate being an army wife. I want my life back - Am I being unreasonable?? View/Add Comments ..... |
| 2. L_J's birthday blog | Posted by Lucky_Jim on Monday, June 22 (3 reads) |
| Hello again, and welcome back to my blog. I think it was Beebs who said I've been absent from the site for so long that I owe you all an update on what's been happening here at Lucky Towers, and I have to say that she's right. So here goes... This weekend was Mrs Jim's birthday. Quite a landmark one as it happens, although I wouldn't be so indiscreet as to reveal her age. Let's just say the occasion deserved marking with a special present. The question I was faced with was, what could that present be? I'm sure you all know that when a couple have been together for a few years it becomes increasingly more difficult to find things to buy for each other. Last year I thought I'd hit on the ultimate in original gifts, but it turned out that Mrs Jim wasn't overly impressed with the pointing trowel and lump hammer I bought her, despite the care I'd taken with the gift-wrapping. This year, to avoid the frosty atmosphere of the days that followed her last birthday, I knew I'd have to up my game. So I took a deep breath, picked up the phone and booked the best available suite (yes, suite!) in Manchester's splendid Midland Hotel. I arranged for champagne and chocolates to be placed in the suite and reserved a table at the Midland's highly acclaimed French restaurant. It cost me a month's income but I thought what the heck, this is a special occasion that won't come around again. With the stage set I bulled my shoes (old habits die hard), had my dinner suit cleaned, and looked forward to an evening of sumptuous decadence. I wasn't disappointed. It was a truly magical night. The rooms in the suite were huge, with more total floor space than there is in our house. The bed was the size of a small aircraft carrier and as for the restaurant, well, the food was some of the best I've eaten anywhere in the world. Some days later I found out that Mrs Jim would have liked to come too, but I wasn't to have known that was I? I'm not a mind reader. (Before my PM inbox becomes more full than usual with hate mail, that last sentence was a lie made up for comic effect.) In truth she had a wonderful time, and told me it was the most memorable present she could have had. Success at last for L_J! So what else has been happening? Well, we're in the process of putting our house on the market. (Yes, yes, I know, it's possibly the worst time since the Plague but other events that I won't bore you with make it necessary.) Anyway, when the woman from the estate agents came to photograph the house she asked me what at the time I thought was the oddest question I've ever heard. The conversation went like this: 'Have you got your own hips?' the woman casually enquired, like a market researcher asking me which newspaper I preferred. At that point I literally took a step backwards, mouthing the words 'What the fu...?' What difference does it make if I've had a hip replacement or not? (As it happens I'm many years away from that, despite being about to become a granddad.) Then the penny dropped. She was talking about the hated Home Information Packs. They're the completely useless things that potential vendors now have to buy before their property goes on the market. Sellers resent having to spend money on them, buyers don't trust them, and they're about as much use as roller skates for a fish. The type of misunderstanding I displayed here is known to professional behaviouralists as mongishness. It's similar to the occasion last December when, at a wedding ceremony, Mrs Jim and I were seated with everyone else waiting for the bride to arrive. In due course a hush descended, the music started, and we all twisted around in our seats to see the bride dressed in all her finery like a Spanish galleon, proceeding gracefully down the aisle arm in arm with a grey-haired man. 'He looks a bit old for her doesn't he?' I whispered to Mrs Jim. She choked back a howl of laughter, and hissed the reply; 'That's her dad, you galah!' (An Australian term of endearment, apparently.) This is the kind of mongish behaviour that has prevented me from reaching the heights in life that I believe I deserved. But it can have its advantages; for example several years ago, as a new arrival in the UK, Mrs Jim was trying without success to get a job commensurate with her experience and qualifications. Application after application went unanswered, despite her having a degree in psychology from one of the most respected universities in Australia and having run her own business for several years. (The 'sitting tenant' syndrome isn't as prevalent over there as it is here, it seems, and that came as a shock to her.) Returning home from work one evening I was met by a tearful Mrs Jim, utterly dejected by the latest rejection without any explanation whatsoever. Straight away I knew what was needed. I held her tenderly in my arms, gently kissed her, wiped away her tears and said in the warmest, most reassuring tones I could muster, the now unforgettable phrase: 'Don't worry love, it's probably worse than you think.' The sheer idiocy of that statement had her so convulsed with laughter that she forgot her sorrows for the time being, laughed her socks off, and all was well. (Post script: Mrs Jim's career is now flying high, and she is well respected nationally in her field of work. Conversely I'm now just a retired dead-beat with nothing but some faded photographs, a uniform that I'll never wear again, a couple of medals that I'd be lucky to get a tenner for on Dickinson's Real Deal, and a propensity to dive under a table at any unexpected loud noise. But hey, I'm not bitter. At least I've got a decent pension that means I don't have to wear a badge that says 'Happy to help'.) I'll leave you with this short tale about a colleague of mine who, I have to admit, on this occasion out-monged me in every department. At a promotion interview he was sitting in the usual too-small chair facing a panel seated behind an unnecessarily large desk (anyone recognise the scene, by the way?) and was asked this question; 'Tell us, in your own words, what you understand by the term telemetry?' He thought for a while, stroking his chin as if in deep contemplation of a detailed and highly technical reply, and uttered the magnificent phrase; 'Is that when you can tell what I'm thinking?' Take care everyone, L_J (p.s. Big Bird; I've abandoned the Werthers Originals idea. It's the 'trail of Smarties to the boiler house' from now on.) View/Add Comments ..... |
| 3. Ships passing in the night - short story pt 3 | Posted by Josephine on Thursday, June 18 (5 reads) |
| That night, my dream returned but with a difference this time. I return, standing there in the same unfamiliar hallway in a daze, I looked into the mirror in front of me. My eyes seem different, more awaken to my surroundings, looking closer I can see that they are were no longer the sky blue colour that Nate had always found so fascinating but more of an emerald green. My hair is much longer than usual and flowing with grace, draping around the contours of my face, somewhat accentuating my features, with no effort I actually look like I've just stepped out of a photo shoot! There's that smell again, inviting me to come closer and the sense that he was there watching me again, just like he was in the Rec. But I turn and walk out the front door and into small the cul-de-sac, the sun was setting quicker than usual. As I scan the street a more recognizable scent surfs my way, why is that so tempting to me? He doesn't seem to be far behind either, standing back in the shadows far enough that I can not see him but close enough to know where he is. I scan my surroundings again and stop to notice the red eyes staring at me through the bushes across the cul-de-sac, here we go again! I have to run, get away from here, it's too dangerous for me to stay, it never was in this dream I had to run. As I picked up my pace my heart started pounding uncontrollable, so desperate to burst out of it's caged home. I zoned out of the street's noise, the wild stretches coming from the woods didn't bother me this time round, why was I more relaxed than usual? I run the course of the dream, with the red eyes watching, trailing every movement I take. Suddenly the bushes across from me rustled violently, I was hesitant to stop but I knew I had to push on, this time more energetic with less effort. A dark figured lunged for me from the bushes, just missing me by an inch, I dare look back, I couldn't. But that scent wanted me to stop, I had to stop and turn to see why my attackers were so attractive to me but I didn't! Building up speed I broke through the wooded park, up into the hills and away from the unwilling danger that followed, but was I safe? Looking out over Ruscombe from Crazies Hill, the village looked peaceful but I knew different, if only the locals knew the real truth to the darkness that followed sunset, would they still feel safe in the comfort of their own homes? Catching my breath slowly I realized I wasn't alone, I knew I had to go, Flight or Fright, my mind screaming at me to run but my hear and body telling me to stay, that I had too! I stayed out of curiosity mostly, taking a deep breath I turned around and prowled the tree line for my hunter. There he was, again standing back in the shadows but this time he moved forward, he seemed aware of my emotional state and approached with caution. My heart stopped with anticipation, I wasn't afraid but I was more curious than ever, watching him approach me with such grace and care, if only the shadows would clear so that I could get a better look at this 4 legged creature that had been stalking me in my dreams and in my reality. The wind changed directions, towards me this time which took me by surprise, his scent hit me and I was hypnotized, I needed to see him and know more! My thoughts had come true, the shadow lifted to produce a figure I wasn't expecting. His body was built for hunting, strong, athletic but dominant in stature, his eyes were dark green, emerald almost and his fur was chestnut which shimmered in the flickers of the moonlight. He was beautiful but why was I feeling this way about a creature that had continued to always maul me at this point? This time was different, I sensed he wasn't there to harm me but seemed like he was reading me, watching every emotional thought that could be seen streaming across my face. He stopped about 4 meters from where I was standing at that particular moment in time, tilting his head to the right and letting out a small grunt of relief. Suddenly a voice out of the blue spoke to me with such grace, I couldn't hear him as my concentration had lapsed. "Erm.....I'm sorry, can you say that again please?" Hoping I wasn't sounding off, I waited, he spoke again. "You're here, don't be scared, we are not here to harm you" Trying to take this surreal moment in with the last sips of my concentration, I proceeded to carry on the conversation. "Who are you? Why are you here? Want do you want from me?" "Jennifer, I can not stay too long, this is breaking every rule bound into place but find us, find me and we will tell you what is needed" I was caught off guard, how'd he know my name, I wanted answers but I knew I wouldn't get them here. "My name is Daniel, look for me when the next blue moon rises" As he finished his sentence, Daniel crept back into the cover of the trees and then he was gone. What should I make of this, I wouldn't know just yet but time has to reveal all, right? As I turned round to leave, my surroundings disappeared into a blur of white, awakening from my sleep. With a sigh of relief, I sat up in my welcoming bed and thought it was just a dream.......or was it? View/Add Comments ..... |
| 4. Ships passing in the night - short story pt 2 | Posted by Josephine on Saturday, June 13 (7 reads) |
| Spending the evening at Emma's was always enjoyable, a gathering of friends for an evening was a usual dairy date for us all. Surrounded by a poor attempt of a BBQ by a constant supply of alcoholic beverages was a common thing with our little group but nothing out of the ordinary with us. I wasn't in the mood to drink to be honest, preferred a good old cuppa tea, which I clutch to, whilst chatting with the girls. As the evening drew to a close, I said my good byes, wrapped myself up, ready to embrace the cold awaiting me outside the loneliness of the night outside. Walking through the recreational ground, I got a slight sense that I was being watched from a distance. Looking around, I could only see a fox scurry across the field, in search of it's next meal. It was rather windy tonight, being mid summer, you'd expect there to be still and possible humid airs but this is England we are talking about! Lucky if we get a month's worth of heat, let alone a whole summer of it but I'm not complaining. Walking silently along the pathway, with just my thoughts of the past few nights, I didn't even notice the rustling of leaves that the wind had brushed past me. I was sure that Nate would be waiting in my living room for my return, of course, he knows how much I hate walking alone, sometimes I wish that 6th sense of his would kick in when I need it to! Shaking that thought away,I pushed it to the back of my mind for another occasion, possibly one where I would have the balls to say it to his face instead of clamming up like a 13yr old school girl with her first crush. So, marching on I got to the edge of the Rec grounds, when I was startled by a blurred shape running across to the right of me in the distance. Turning to see what the fuss was about, I could see it lurking in the shadows, the red eyes, those red eyes from my nightmares! Staring out at me, like I was some kind of trophy it had to have in that split second. The dark figure prowled slower towards me, a voice in my head was screaming at me to run, run now and don't look back but my body and curiosity got the better of me whilst I stood there, dumb founded and intrigued. That sent was vaguely familiar to me,making me want to go closure to this strange being and in that instance I knew what I was staring at wasn't of human form. It let out a low grunt in approval and then I knew it, my nightmares flashing back through my mind, scene after scene, where he would always rip at my flesh. He didn't want to hurt me, him? Did I just think of it as a him! I took a step closure to my predator in a strange hope that he would emerge from the shadows and come to me. Stretching out my left hand, I coaxed him gently but he growled and reclined further into the darkness that covered the trees. A strong gust of wind blew and rumbled the branches of his disguise and just then, in that second, he was gone and so was my strange sense of him. Zipping up my jacket, I continued up the path, out through the Rec's gateway and into the neighboring housing estate towards the warmth and comfort of my own home. I was actually, really looking forward to Nate's company after that strange meeting, it threw me off guard, anxious if you will and I'd rather have someone around that I knew could look after me if things went downhill rapidly. Stopping at the front gate, I placed my hand on the ice cold railings before moving on. I just couldn't shake that familiar feeling, it was like I was being called for but why, why would I feel like this? I had a yearning for more, to run away with him into the black of the night, run freely with no troubles. Hoping that Nate hadn't sensed this from me, I carried on through the gate. As I reached for my keys, Nate opened the front door, greeting me in no other way than he knew how to, when it cam eto me. Wrapping his cool arms around my shoulders and placing his addictive lips on my cheek, Nate said hi and lead me to the sofa. "How was your evening, Jen?" Nate was fixated on me at this point. What do I do, how do I act? Does he know what happened? God, I am rubbish at lying grrrrr! so I picked up the TV remote and focus my attention as I switched on Living TV, letting out a sigh. " It was OK, nothing to brag about, I'm just tired to be honest. Can we just sit here tonight and relax, I'd really enjoy that" Looking up at me, Nate took off his jacket and slung it neatly over the back of the single seated sofa before moving towards me. I sat up, giving him the access to slip in behind me, which he did with the grace of an Angel, how ironic! "Jen, you smell weird, have you been around dogs this evening, by any chance?" Uh oh, sussed! Damn it! "Erm, come to think of it, yeah, Em's has a Husky" Lie! "Well, it's not a good smell on you but I can live with that" If only he knew! View/Add Comments ..... |
| 5. Ships passing in the night - short story pt 1 | Posted by Josephine on Saturday, June 13 (10 reads) |
| Waking at 5am that morning, disorientated from my dream, I stretched and rolled out of bed. Another night terror, some were less gruesome than others but last night’s dream was pretty timid to what I would usually expect, even though I have never got use to them. I ran my right hand through my bed hair, realizing that I had been sweating more than usual in my sleep as my hair stuck to my face like glue. I reached out for my bedroom door with my left hand, stopping still as I heard a creek on the stair case. I listened in silence for a minute and then heard Merlin purring, as he pushed his head between the wooden door and the rusted oak frame, welcoming me with those doting orange eyes of his. Merlin is a ginger tabby, a warm and silk like texture that is my cat, a big ball of friendly fur, just waiting to be cuddled like a kid’s first teddy bear. Strangely, he turned up on my door step a year ago and never left. I walked down stairs to the kitchen, I had only been living in this house for a month but it already felt like my own place and not one that I had rented. I slipped on my white, cosy ugg like slippers that were sitting on the bottom step and slumped onto the kitchen tiles. Filling up the kettle, a nice cuppa tea would settle me before the day starts but standing there I no longer felt like I was alone in my house; I could sense there was someone other than me and Merlin here. As I turned around, I saw a shadow sitting in the front room, on the Chaise Lounge chair I had recently acquired. I walked towards the room, with caution, Merlin stood back unwilling to follow as I switched on the light and jumped! How had he got into my front room, why was he here at this time of hour and what did he want? 1000 questions whizzed through my headed and my recent nightmare relapsed throughout my mind! 'Good morning Jenny, you really should look your back door; you know anyone could walk in and take advantage of you!’ The words flowed like a calming spring, trickling out with no effort on his behalf. You see, Nate was always like this, I never saw him during the ‘normal’ hours of a day, he just popped in and out as he pleased, which I thought would have changed when I moved, obviously not! I met him 2 years back, when I was living in Ireland, I’d taken a year out after University and decided to trace my family routes, a lot of good it did me, I didn’t get passed Dublin but it still makes me chuckle to think of that year out. Nate had shown up one night, in a pub I was working for as a barmaid, I needed the extra cash. I’ll always remember him drifting up to the bar, like an effortless breeze swaying an open door too and thro. He smiled at me, with no lack of confidence he opened a conversation, which dwindled into the wee hours of that Saturday morning. I felt comfortable with him; I didn’t feel a savageness that he was out to get that one thing and then bugger off, like a majority of men I had met over the years. He evened offered to walk me home, which I was ecstatic about, my mind wondering off like a 14 yr old school girl, rather than the 24yr old woman I was then. I saw Nate near enough every night from that day. I only had 3 months left in Dublin before I decided to move back home to Ruscombe, Berkshire. With this, I felt saddened that I may not see him again but as the days, weeks and months passed, he assured me he wouldn’t be far off. He saw something in me, something that I was unsure of and I swear he was pulling my leg about his thoughts that he would tell me each night. Before leaving me at the foot of my door, things became a routine and Nate would tell me I was more than I thought I was. He had a special way of leaving thoughts and words hanging, like it was a guessing game and at times I felt like I was playing a never ending ‘hangman’ with him. As time passed, our friendship grew but strangely, it felt more than that to me, like I couldn’t be without him, just a silly thought really. The night before I left Dublin, Nate paid me a visit and told me that he would be taking an extended visit to the UK, I didn’t realize at the time that he meant he’d stick with my shadow every single step I would take but this didn’t bother me. So here I am, 2 years on and Nate still acts like we are ships passing in the night, as much as a pain this was, I never questioned his motives. I took a deep breath and exhaled; "Nate, you continue to scare the hell out of me; I swear I locked that back door! Why can’t you use the front door, like every other normal person" Waiting for his response, I flopped my body onto the 3 seated sofa and curled up with my cuppa. "I’m not normal but Jen, my dear, you have known this about me for a while now and yet you do still dispute my actions" His soft, Glaswegian accent always caught me off guard, as I giggled and let this episode slide. "At least put a lamp on, so I know you’re here, you still scare the crap out of me" I yearned to be near Nate whenever possible, he was handsome in an old worldly sort of way, 6”1, the natural muscle type, big pale green eyes, his skin pasty, perfect white teeth, straight to the point that even a dentist would be jealous. When he smiled, he’d only ever revealed the front of his teeth, like he was holding back, the corners of his mouth would curl round his dimples. His hair, a mild brunette colour, would shimmer in any light, short and I swear his hair smelt like French vanilla. He had an addictive presence, one that I could never get over and needed, which he knew. His jaw line was chiseled, with high cheekbones, he would be 30 in our world by now but didn’t look a day older, to be honest, he could still pass for a 27 year old, this thought left me giggling a bit louder than I first imagined. "Jen, what’s funny? Do tell, I could use some light entertainment after tonight", his eyes lit up as he looked out the front room window, searching for something, maybe nothing, before his stare landed on me. [i"‘Not much, just thinking about you and how you always end up here, round about the same time, near enough every night"[/i]. I looked to him for an answer, one I had wanted to ask for a long time now but knew I wouldn’t get, even if I did ask. "I wonder the same thing lass, I try to stay away but you’re like a magnet to me" his grin widened, showing a brightness through the lightly lit room before proceeding " You had another nightmare"; this seemed to be a statement rather than a question. "I do worry about you, Jen, these dreams are.......... significant to some part of your life, they may have a meaning more than you can see" Nate had caught me off guard with that last sentence, I had never really told him the full content of my nightmares but he seemed to know the basic outlines. "They come stronger a week prior to the full moon, I’ve kept a diary of dates and how strong they are, these dreams reoccur 7 days precise to a full moon" I drew in a deep breath, realizing how I was passing myself off as, any minute now, the men in white jackets would be bursting through my front door! "It always ends with the same male attacking me, He’s not a wolf but not a man, I cannot see his face but I know who he is" I stopped there, realizing Nate had a fix stare on my face, my heart had begun pounding like before, and I pulled my blanket up from the side of the sofa, to cover my top half and sighed again. Reassuring me, Nate passed a final comment on my state, "They are just dreams Jen, don’t worry" . Nate stood up and walked over to me, pressing his cool lips against my forehead, before pulling away and running his hand down the back of my neck. A shiver of excitement run through my body, with Nate smiling, he knew exactly what his presence, let alone his touch, did to me! "I have to go for now Jen, I promise to be round tonight, 8pm OK with you?", still frozen by his touch, all I could manage was ‘perfect’ as he walked out the front door. What am I going to do with myself; I ask that every single morning he leaves. I looked over at the small clock on the radio across from me, it flashed 6am, I must have been sitting there dazing for a good half an hour after he left. At that point I decided to go for a hot shower, maybe it would shake me from my weird mood that I woke up with this morning, hopefully. Walking up the stairs, I stopped and turned around to spot Merlin on my heels. "Maybe I should check the front and back doors are locked Merlin, peace of mind and all" Merlin looked at me blankly and retreated upstairs to my bedroom, whilst I trotted round downstairs. You see, the difference between Nate and any other male I have known, is a simple fact, Nate is not human but a Vampire. View/Add Comments ..... |
| 6. Tuesday 12th May 2009 1134hrs | Posted by aew510 on Tuesday, May 12 (6 reads) |
| Well hello my dear friends, Today is Tuesday and still no tears since ermmm...Saturday evening? possibly? Yeh thats right...oh god Im losing track of days! Ill be mad by the time Joe comes home....oh wait...I already am! So I emailed Joe on Sunday night after sending him a book about the past 3 days. He replied with a lovely long email telling me all about the ship and what he's doing etc. Got good contact with him now. He's emailed yesterday and today and Im just aboout to reply to him now. He said he's very busy getting up at 0300hrs, and going to bed at 2100hrs. So yesterday was a full day of lectures and then the gym and oh my god, I can feel the gym addiction coming on. I got back on the treadmill after ermmm 2.5 years after a foot fracture from running on treadmills too much (stress fracture). Id been avoiding it like the plague with the fear of it hurting or leading to a break again. But it was actually pretty good! I felt really good just running for 10 minutes! I weasnt worn out and I felt like I could easily get addicted again! Maybe just not running as much on a treadmill thistime.  Oh I almost forgot...something happened yesterday that I could only think of as a giggle to everyone on here and a giggle for joe. I got out the car to go into uni first thing. Id been bopping along listening to McFly in the car and all happy and cheery after getting an email from Joe that morning....when all of a sudden I felt this weight on my shoulder...like something had just landed on me. I went to sweep whatever it was off my collar and felt a big gooey mess. Yes thats right...Id just been plopped on by a big bloody seagul! What was a seagul doing in bloody York anyways?! I stood there and thought...if only Joe was here, he'd be laughing his head off at me...although Im not so sure I would be laughing at that point. But I was actually laughing and thought about Joe being there. All I can say is...THANK GOD FOR BABY WIPES!!!  I had a spare coat in the car so donned that one. Luckily it didnt poo in my hair otherwise I really would have cried! So today I was meant to be going to a conference for nursing students in Harrogate but it was made clear yesterday that I need to do some uni work and get back on form with the revision. Yawn.  So here I am, in bed,writing a blog entry on RP! Really getting on with my work well! I have some admin to do today and then Ill start doing some proper work. I think even a few hours will do the job. Its going from doing 9-5 to 12-5 to 3-5. oh dear!Well Ive got girlguides tonight and Ive not planned anything yet so I better do that too. Talk soon MIS AMIGOS Amy x x x View/Add Comments ..... |
| 7. Sunday 10th May 2009 (soon to be Monday 11th May 2009) | Posted by aew510 on Sunday, May 10 (30 reads) |
Well after reading one page of CocoaKid's blog, it has inspired me to write a blog myself of the OH's first tour away in our relationship. I found very connected to CocoaKid in the fact that Im just as daft usually!  So here goes: Day 4 if you count the day he went as a day. WARNING: DONT START READING IF YOUVE GOT THINGS TO DO. YOU MIGHT FALL ASLEEP AND NOT WAKE UP FOR A FEW HOURS!  So this one will be a short entry because Im tired and Ive just wrote a mammoth email to OH. Yes thats right I got an email today from him with four little words. "I miss you lots" I hear you all thinking....wrong! "HI AMY ITS JOE". The OH clearly couldnt remember my email address fully as these four little words were sent to four different email addresses all in some sort of variant of mine. Luckily he got my email address in there somewhere. So I can only presume that he was either a) busy and just sent a quick email after he'd set it up or b) didnt want to send anything to someone who wouldnt have a clue who it was and for any other matter, know what he was twittering on about. So I replied with a mammoth email telling him EVERYTHING. Today I didnt cry.  First day with out tears and also the first day Ive got out of my smelly pit of a bed before 1300hrs! I went to see a friend who I go to uni with and then I went to work at my parents pub which was nice. It kept me busy at least.Anyways, its a bit boring tonight but hopefully Ill be able to write a bit more on Tuesday or tomorrow if I get time inbetween a full day of lectures, gym and Mountain Rescue training in the evening. I usually get back after being in the pub with the team at about 2300hrs. Anything to keep busy and Im there. Also one of the guys is an ex navy captain and he always gives the best hugs. I emailed him the otherday to say hello and tell him Joe had gone and I was down. He said some nice things and said he'd give me a big hug on Monday...even more of a reason to go to training! Right, Im going for the second time (actually going? yes I am actually going!) Talk soon mon amigos (mes amigos?) Amy x x x x x View/Add Comments ..... |
| 8. The Continuing Story of Our Lad Ricky | Posted by michaelruston on Thursday, January 22 (34 reads) |
| I am an ex-Royal Engineers (1965 - 1989) and had to give up work in August of 2007 to become a full time carer for my wife who suffers from acute bi-polar disorder. For many years my family friends and colleagues have tried to persuade me to put pen to paper to down some of the many 'stories' I would tell at social and family occasions. They likened my to Unc in only fools and horses! I remember when . . . . Eyes would roll and at least one would say, "Pull up a Sandbag" or "Swing the Lights". However the stories were always funny and I would usually have them rolling in the aisle. In April 2008 year I was handed a second hand laptop by my daughters and ordered to 'get on with it'. The result was 'Our Lad Ricky'. This book I have self-published through AuthorHouse as I search for a literary agent and the money to pay for one. I have sold more than 250 copies of the book from my own website and have received good reviews from those that have purchased copies. RICKY - THE EARLY YEARS I have attempted in my books to give a feel of what life was really like for a military family living below the poverty line in the thirty years between 1950 and 1965. In this, the first of the three books, I detail my life from my earliest memories, through my school days, until I eventually joined the Army in the mid 1960s. You are able to follow the numerous scrapes, incidents and often funny, sometimes tragic situations in which I found myself. Arrested by the RMP three times before reaching the tender age of 7!  Our Lad RickyOUR LAD RICKY In Our Lad Ricky I write about the several abortive attempts I made to join the Army, always failing due to my apparent weakness and ill health. And how, in desperation, I persuaded my best friend and school chum Ben to travel with me to Queen Street, Wolverhampton and take my entrance medical there on my behalf. The book highlights my hesitant, precarious and often hilarious attempts at turning from boy to man, by learning to be a soldier and how, not just once, but twice, I was almost discharged from the Army as 'Services No Longer required'! View/Add Comments ..... |
| 9. First Tour and general nonsense | Posted by CocoaKid on Sunday, November 23 (162 reads) |
| Well, I thought I would bore the pants off people on here and if it's bad, then the MODS can delete it - what have I got to lose? I am going to start a normal blog page elsewhere on the interweb but thought I could have a go on here. Just dropped off the Man in Sand (coloured uniform) for his van journey down to the airport - if you can seriously consider Brize to be such - and managed to keep it together, which is a bonus - and have already been informed that "soft toilet paper would be greatly appreciated by him or anyone else who I deign to send it to" so that's a first on my list. And if there is anyway I can send some nice, stinky cheese in a vacuum container, that, too, will go down well. Hm. I don't know if that'd be appreciated by the rest of the mail recipients so will have to be creative. Got home to a warm reception - and by warm, I mean curry-hot. Last night's carefully packed and ready-for-waste-disposal Indian take-away meal carton were delicately strewn across the kitchen floor (red curry stains on a lino floor...thanks Pooch  - and some bits and pieces of cardboard tops had been viciously attacked and I'm sure I'll find the missing pieces SOME time. Boy dog is to blame by the look on his face, but hell, he'll whine when those left-over whole chillies come shooting out his rear...live and learn, pooch, live and learn. Guaranteed to make me giggle which I am not complaining about. At least this time he didn't consume the tinfoil (yet another pooch trick from a fortnight ago which, when expelled, sounded akin to a small squirrel being used as a projectile from a small tube)Day 1. It'll be fine - hell, I'm not the one on the plane/in the sandpit. I will have to trawl the internet for a supplier of "interesting shaped" buckets and spades. Oh these parcel ideas are just coming to me in waves of divine inspiration! View/Add Comments ..... |
| 10. From Him to Her, Still MArching On | Posted by Legs on Tuesday, November 18 (94 reads) |
| I’ve not put anything into my blog for a while. No special reason, it just hasn’t been that interesting a time. So, what’s new? Well the changes are still going on, and my physical appearance is quit different to what it was just over a year ago. My breasts are bigger – just over a B Cup now – and I have a definite waistline. My hair is growing and thickening. The effects of laser treatment on my face have almost totally eradicated any facial hair. Emotionally I am happy. Yes, I have bad days as do most folk. But I don’t have those terrible days of despair any more. I think that at work I am now pretty much a part of the furniture. I seem to be pretty well accepted now, and most folk don’t even give me a second glance. One of the things that has changed though is the number of people – guys and girls – who just pop up to my office for a chat. Sometimes they need a shoulder to cry on, sometimes just for a natter. It does feel as though I have more friends than I ever did before. I often wonder why, but then I consider that my confidence is up, and I can afford to be less introverted; after all, what have I got to hide now? In July I attended a MoD Lesbian Gay Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) Conference in Main Building and gave a short speech. The (then) Personnel Director at MoD, Richard Hatfield, had just made a speech which effectively said ‘ban banter…’ I disagreed with him, and said so – to loud applause. Banter is a basis of trust within the forces, and although people should be aware of crossing lines, if banter stops then so does (in my opinion) a lot of the fabric that hold the forces together. I know that I’ve bitten a few times on this site, but genuine banter – as opposed to nastiness – is a good thing and should be welcomed by all. I know it features a lot at work, and I join in as well. Christ, if you can’t take a joke, etc etc etc… The Gay Pride Parade was the day after this conference and many of the Navy, Army and RAF were there, finally granted the right to wear uniform. I did not attend. My reasons were two fold. One, it’s just not my thing. Two, if I had attended and marched in uniform, where would the cameras have been focussing? I don’t want that sort of publicity. I have avoided the press very well, and I intend to keep doing so. Despite what many think, we are not all out for a fast buck, nor are we all Media Whores. If I was, then I’d have taken the large sum that was offered to me for my story by a certain national Red Top. Back in October I was at the Joint Service LGBT Conference in the Union Jack Club. It was the turn of the Army to sponsor the event, and I was quite heavily involved in the running of it. It was a very successful two day conference opened by General Sir Richard Dannatt the CGS. I was lucky enough to be one of those invited to have coffee with General Dannatt before the conference began. We had a few minutes one-to-one chat each before his opening speech. I know that a lot of people were surprised that he spoke out so openly in support of LGBT service people, especially considering his previous stance on things like wearing uniform at the Gay Pride parade. What it came down to was (in one sentence…) this: If people want to serve their country, then it doesn’t matter if they are gay, straight, Bisexual, or Transgendered – we all have pride in our nation, in our uniform and in ourselves and we are all on one team. I also spoke at a BFG Chaplains’ Conference a month or so ago. A long slot up in front of what might have been a hostile audience. I have no doubt that there were a few dissenters amongst them, but what I had to say was well received, and there were lots of remarkably sensible (and non-religious based) questions. Maybe I have given some of them another view of life. I was in Hoensfels, Bavaria towards the end of October helping with the 20 Armd Bde MRX. It was quite Interesting to be on a US Army base. I have no illusions about myself – I’m hardly the most feminine person in the world. I can live with that. What was interesting was how polite they all were. Lots of ‘yes ma’am, thank you ma’am’ type things. I was in a bar (shh – that’s a secret…) on the base chatting to a couple of US Soldiers and they were totally unfazed by me – I thought that with their ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ policy that they would be totally homo/trans-phobic. That’ll teach me to pre-judge! During the MRX CGS came around for a short visit to the Div tent where I was working (OK, where I had a desk and a chair…). As he was leaving he walked past me, stopped, took a step backwards and stood for a quick chat, even remembering my name. A few eyebrows were raised at that I can tell you! Back at home I am so very proud of my son. At 15 he’s had to cope with a tremendous upheaval in his life, and he’s done it with a smile and such style. He still says he’s proud of me, and isn’t afraid to talk about me with his friends, and they all treat me as a normal woman as well. He even has a girlfriend now. That she’s a couple of years older than him is strange, but she’s a nice lass. I hope they take care – I’m too young to be a granny… So. What’s next? Well I’m now waiting for a date for my surgery, hopefully towards the end of Jan 09. I have decided to go to the best Gender Surgeon in the world, in Thailand. It’s not cheap – but then none of this process has been; don’t forget that I am self funding this treatment, the Army/MoD/NHS are not paying for it. Once that is done and the recuperation, then it’ll be almost time for a posting. I’m hoping to get posted to an Equal Ops post, or a recruiting post. Will that happen? Who knows, I can but ask. Once again, thanks for indulging me as I prattle on. Oh, and can I be the first to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!   View/Add Comments ..... |
| 11. Ladies wot lunches | Posted by Eye_of_Newt on Wednesday, October 22 (156 reads) |
| I've just returned from a visit to "herself." Before I share my tale of woe, here's a bit of background for you: My mother is 85, I was a "boo" - the kind of baby that comes as a rather large shock to a 41 year old woman and a 50 year old man....she is also german - and I know all the other boxheads here on the site will back me up on this - german women over the age of 60 are....different...they have a strange outlook on life, mainly through their immaculately starched net curtains. When the BBC first began looking for a script for "Keeping up appearances" they stalked my mother for 3 months, she was the original Hyacinth - right down to the "candlelit suppers" which they changed for the TV series from her "Nachmittag Kaffeeklatsch," probably because the english would find it too difficult to pronounce. So anyway, I drove up to visit her today. It's about 2 1/2 hours each way, because half of Surrey is being dug up for a tunnel which may or may not be ready by 2011, although personally I don't think that knocking down the whole of Hindhead to widen the road would be such a bad idea. Afterall, it only consists of 2 petrol garages, a jacuzzi shop and the Devil's Punchbowl restaurant; and then onto the M25 (oh joy of joys!) which is so full of entertaining things to look at that you just want to keep going round and round and round.....or not.... So I arrived at about 9.30. Now, before I go any further, she's not been well lately. Well, she says she's not been well, what has actually happened is that her body is no longer 21 and her mind can't accept it. Little comments like "I came beck frrom Vaitrrose (always Waitrose - never Tescos!) all I hed vas 10lbs of potatoes, 3 bottles of brrandy und I vas puffing und panting like an old voman!" Erm....hello? You're 85....sorry to tell you....you ARE an old woman! Anyway, she's got sciatica at the moment. That's when you get a bad back and the pain shoots down your leg as well. The doctor gave her some lovely pain killers, if my dad was still alive he'd have loved them, because they make her mellow Don't get me wrong, she still noses at the neighbours, still critisises everyone and everything, but the comments aren't as cutting.She's been indoors for a week now, and was starting to go stir crazy so I decided to take her out to lunch. Of course, in keeping with her "Hyacinth" attitude, she chose a brasserie in Westerham in Kent, where the ladies who lunch go. Out came the Hermes scarf, the tweed skirt and gawd knows where she dug up that walking stick!!! I sat there thinking "I best not get me rollups out in here....and better not cuff it either, best to use me hanky...." Then I had another thought: "I wonder what would happen if I brought my old man in here?" To all those who haven't met him. My husband is a bit...erm....outspoken. He has no problems calling a spade a spade, or indeed a c**t a c**t. He also speaks very loudly (side effect of having a deaf wife) and insists on using a racing spoon, no matter where we are. But I digress... So there we are, sitting in a cloud of Chanel, watching all the middle aged ladies who lunch with their perfectly coiffed hair greeting eachother with "mwahh mwahh" air kisses, the waitresses with their fake french accents (which actually turn out to be polish...) I'm feeling extremely uncomfortable in a sweatshirt and jeans, the waitress looking at me as if I'd come in stuck to the shoe of Mrs Pilkington-Smythe. I ordered a bottle of fizzy water and a croque monsieur. Mother ordered a bottle of still water and an omelette, with a side order of fries. After waiting a fashionable amount of time (half an hour FFS!!!) our food arrived. Now, I don't know how it works in the rest of the country, but down here on the south coast the staff bring the drink, pour out a bit into a glass, and leave the bottle on the table, then bring the food, then bring the peppermill then ask if everything is fine before leaving the table. Here, she chucked the bottle on the table with a glass, lobbed the plate from the other side of the room, no peppermill, fries that were 3 parts salt to one part potato (I hate salt!!!) and stomped off to fawn over a group of businessmen who had ordered champagne! Ok, so the food was nice, but the service was disgusting! Mother, bless her heart, was just pleased to be out of the house, so I didn't kick up a fuss....until I asked for the bill. I pointed out that I wasn't used to having to call a waitress over to ask for ice in the drink - it should have been offered - and that as I don't like salt I didn't expect to have fries covered in the damn stuff. Her reply (note the fake french accent...) "If you 'ave special dietary needs you should 'ave told me to start wiz!" I explained that I don't have special dietary needs, I was just wondering how she manages to sit down with the fake french poker stuck so far up her derriere. She looked blank and walked off. (A french person who doesn't know what a derriere is???) Mother slapped me I'm 44 years old and my mother slapped me on the arm in a cafe for showing her up I'm dead proud of that - glad I haven't lost the ability I spent all my childhood years developing! Then came the shock - 25 f***ing quid!!!!!!!!  For cheese on toast and an omelette and a bags of chips!!!!! Well, it was £24.37 actually - including service charge - what service????So....lesson learned...let the ladies wot lunch get conned - I'm not falling for that crap again! View/Add Comments ..... |
| 12. on our doorstep | Posted by liela on Tuesday, October 07 (141 reads) |
| HI I AM AN EX SERVICEMANS WIFE AND I HAVE A STORY TO TELL.this a true story though.our husbands both served in the gulf and unfortunately her husband is no longer with us.we live in a densley populated ethnic estate and are recieving really bad threats and abuse.i myself have recieved obscene letters from iraqis.i was sexually assaulted by an iranian.my friend has had her tyres slashed and has had threats on her life...she has been followed by the local drugee who was paid.he was acting suspiciously and flashed a knife to her there i grabbed her and brought her to my house.the police however know all this but nothing has been done as the issue has been raised of racial harrassment from them and do not want to seem as biased.we have been told that we will also be arrested as it will look good on them.WHAT? i am using my friends account with her wish and would appreciate this to be forwarded on to ARRSE as we know we will get the support we need......i am lucky enough to be moving because of this but my fiend is getting left behind...the council will not move her unless she has a physical altercation with someone????? View/Add Comments ..... |
| 13. Ticker | Posted by FIRST_WATCH_ANGEL on Wednesday, September 24 (128 reads) |
| <a href="http://www.TickerFactory.com/"> <img border="0" src="http://tickers.TickerFactory.com/ezt/d/4;10716;128/st/20081022/e/Till+I+see+him+again+%3A-%29/dt/5/k/633f/blk-event.png"></a> View/Add Comments ..... |
| 14. About Me | Posted by kayleighKATASTROPHE on Monday, August 25 (191 reads) |
| Hi, Im Kayleigh.. Dont Really Know Wah To Say =S I Love Everyone Whos Came Into My Life.. Spesh One Special Person!! In My Eyes Theirs No Life Without Music. I Love Going To Parties And Gigs And Any Place That You Can Basically Have A Laugh With Your Friends And Family [And Have A Bit To Drink Too Lol] Basically I Just Love Having Fun No Matter Wah The Occasion Or Weather Or Anything Like That Lol... Bubi!! Xx View/Add Comments ..... |
| 15. Gladiator Visits British Forces Families in Germany! | Posted by DasBoot on Thursday, May 29 (282 reads) |
| ANOTHER GOLD FOR DU’AINE LADEJO[align=center] He is already a superstar on the athletics field and now he has won first place in the hearts of the families of the 4th Mechanised Brigade whose loved ones are currently deployed on operations in Iraq. Du’aine Ladejo, a two-time Olympic medallist and star of the 2008 SKY ONE revival of Gladiators, took time out of a busy schedule to visit the wives and children of British Forces families based in Osnabrück Germany. His morale-boosting visit, organised by CSE (Combined Services Entertainment), came at an important time for the families, as they prepare to welcome home their loved ones after serving for six months in Iraq. Whilst the media focuses on the soldiers and the role they undertake on operations, Du’aine was taken aback by the way that the families cope with the separation and the stresses endured during deployment. “I am really impressed with how the Army community pull together during deployment, and through talking to many of the wives, I can see how difficult it must be for them to keep the family structure alive. It is such a positive atmosphere and a great family community”, said Du’aine. While spending almost three hours signing autographs and having his photograph taken, he said: “It is very tough on the children and I am very impressed with how they cope.” As a keen promoter of sports in schools Du’aine was honoured to present the winning trophies to the teams who had taken part in a local football tournament. It was clear that the children were in awe of his sporting achievements. “This is my first CSE Tour and I have really enjoyed it,” explained Du’aine. “I have been visiting schools for 14 years, but I have not had any contact with the Army before now. After today, I am really looking forward to working with CSE again.” The excitement over the visit was fuelled by his recent appearance on the new hit TV series Gladiators. As ‘Predator’, Du’aine Ladejo insists he is ‘one of the good ones’ and whilst the younger children were in awe, one teenager threw down the gauntlet whilst a young toddler decided to try and stare him out. Nicky Ness, CSE’s Director of Entertainment commented, “this is our second event this year with the 4th Mechanised Brigade, following a visit by glamour girl Lindsey Strutt in March. We are delighted to be back with Du’aine in support of a much deserved morale boost!” View/Add Comments ..... |
| 16. Deja Vu | Posted by LizBiff on Thursday, May 01 (301 reads) |
| I could remember what it felt like, what it smelt like and for a second I could see my Gran waiting at the other side of the pelican crossing when on my way home from school. It was 25 years ago, but the image was very vivid. Life moves along and it has brought me back to the same town that I had spent my young years in. Since then I had spent some time in other towns and with other members of my step-family. As i decided to go a road run tonight, i visited the old part of town that I spent those young years in and I remembered. My old Grampa, who has been dead for many years, never said goodbye or cheerio, 'a kiss, a cuddle and a smack on the bum and that is incase you are naughty before the next time i see you'. Sweet and will never be forgotten. My other Grandfather used to take us fishing to the dam and tell us his war stories. He was in the Home Guard during the war. He would tell us of marching up and down the Main Street in town using long handled brooms as make-shift weapons for rifle drill. He met his life long companion, my Gran, at a bus stop and bought her a bag of chips. They married soon after and had 6 children. Sadly Francis was lost, in the arms of his Father. The same Grampa was very handy restoring hoovers and had a cupbaord of junk bits, that would one day be used to restore somone's electrical appliance. He made a wooden foot stool and painted it white. It was 12 inch high and only big enough to be used for its main purpose. I used to turn it upside down and beg for hours to be pulled round the living room like I was in a go-kart. I am unsure if i should mention the home-brew. That was a long standing excuse for friends and family to visit. My Mum brought me and my brother up alone and we would spend lots of Saturday afternoons berry picking to make the home brew and jam. I had the honour of writing the labels for the jam-jars, I particularly loved this job because i would get to stick a finger in the pot and lick it off when Mum wasn't looking. All this and i wasn't even 7 years old. No playstation generation. No Nintendo Wii. No internet. View/Add Comments ..... |
| 17. Postcard from a dog | Posted by Pip_the_dog_wonder on Tuesday, April 08 (351 reads) |
| Dear Mum, since you abandoned me less than a week ago its been chaos here. The weather has been snow/sleet/hail/rain/fog with occasional bursts of sunshine. Many of those have occurred simultaneously. Today there was sunshine which was doing its best to dry out all the muddy puddles around Easby Abbey, just to help the sun out I decided the best thing to do was to soak up as much of the muddy water as possible. This pleased everyone so much that I've had another bath and a hair cut today. From what I overheard earlier I'm going to the 'you know who' to get my claws seen to tomorrow, no doubt it'll be a good excuse for me to whimper, whine and look pathetic. Well that's all I've got time for today, its not easy being a dead ginger pirate tap dancing dog you know. Arrrrr, arrrrr, whoooooo whooooooo. etc View/Add Comments ..... |
| 18. From Him to Her - The Journey Continues | Posted by Legs on Monday, March 17 (342 reads) |
| It’s pretty clear that life’s journey is not just about peaks and troughs, but there are many plateaus as well. Sometimes things just tick along very nicely thanks very much. No excitement, no major milestones, no huge disappointments. Just getting on with travelling the road of life. Of course even when you reach a plateau the journey continues. The view still changes and the distance to travel becomes shorter as the starting point recedes into the background of your life. It just doesn’t seem so… significant. In the last few months my life has been like that. No major, dramatic steps, just gradual changes and more distance covered. I’ve accepted myself, and others around me have as well, some more easily than others. I’m learning more about being myself, and putting my past behind me. Do I want to forget who I was? No, who I was is a major part of who I am. Nothing can change the past, one can only use it to strengthen the future. I have found that my experience intrigues some people. I have made no secret about what I am going through, and what it means to me, and how I feel about it. I’ve told of my fears, my joys, the struggle with self-realisation and the pain that that can bring. And do you know what? Through telling my story I am achieving things. I’m helping, in my own little way, to combat some of the ignorance that surrounds those in my position. Back in January I attended the MoD LGBT Forum at JHQ Rheindahlen. It was a two day conference reviewing aspects of being in a small minority group that serves in the Forces and MoD Civil Service. Many of those attending knew me anyway, and I was able to stand up and tell them a little about me, and how my condition has been managed by the Army. And it’s a positive, good news story. I have had very little trouble at all – in fact I can only recall one reaction that could really be described as negative. People are moving with the times it seems, and even if they don’t accept differences, they still tolerate them. I don’t know if that’s because their attitude has changed, or the fact that the world is so PC now that people are worried about saying something. All I do know is that it has made my life easier and more comfortable. Anyway, what I had to say was well received. The following day my wife also stood up to take questions about my changes, and how they affected her. It seems that our open and honest approach has an affect on people, and the word ‘inspiration’ was used a few times. It was never our intention to be inspirational, but if my experience helps someone else, or changes someone else’s viewpoint, then isn’t that something to feel good about? One of the scariest moments of my Transition from male to female was not, surprisingly, the day I went into work in female mode. It was last month. The day we realised that my hair had thickened and grown to such an extent that I no longer needed to wear a wig. I was aware that my wig had become a safety net. At this early stage in my transition there is much about me that still looks masculine. Even after laser treatment on my face it is still not the soft skin of a female, and the hormones are not some miracle drug that will change me over night. So I wear a concealing make up. And OK, I have breasts – some of which are mine, and some of which are ‘chicken fillets’. Still, the first thing that someone really sees is the hair. My wig gave me an illusion of femininity. It was not perfect (hey, I’m not rich enough for that!). It was a feminine style, and framed my face the way a genetic girl’s hair does. But now my hair was thicker. My wig was not such a good fit any more because of my real hair beneath it, and it was getting tatty. I went into work far more nervous than my first day as a woman. There were a few double takes, and a few people commented, but it seems clear that my fears were unfounded. Let me just explain something here. 9 months ago I was nearly bald on the top of my head, and my hairline was high up, almost to the top of my head. Oh yeah, I also had a No2 all over. Although still not perfect I have enough hair to give an approximation of a feminine style. Still a long way to go, but baby steps, as they say, baby steps. My treatments have continued in much the same manner that they were before. Regular check ups in London with a Gender Specialist, blood tests, hormone treatment etc. My Testosterone levels are now way, way down, and my oestrogen levels are up. Both levels are similar to those of a genetic girl. Physical growth and changes continue, and my emotional state has settled. I’m happy. I laugh. Lots! I have now reached a stage where I have been referred to a surgeon who will complete the major surgery on me. I’ve heard good reviews of his work, and the hospital (a private hospital, which I will pay for myself…) looks and sounds excellent. I’ll be having my initial consultation with him in April. I hope to be accepted for surgery in October. I’m just back from Shrivenham. For those that don’t know, Shrivenham is a Joint Service school, near Swindon. One of the courses that run there is the Equality and Diversity Advisor course. I have never enjoyed a course more than this. With a rank range from Sgt to Maj (and light and dark blue, and Civil Service equivalents) there were many people with many views. The discussions were open and honest. The chance to review your own prejudices was very revealing (although the joke about the French should maybe have been kept to myself…). Of course, one of the subjects in the curriculum was the Management of Transgender Service Personnel. I was more than glad to answer questions and to dispel some myths. And educate! A very rewarding course, and I would recommend it to anyone. You never know how far you can open your eyes until they are opened for you. If the chance comes for me to be an instructor on the course, I’d jump at it. So, anyway. Thanks for indulging me again. If you don’t like what I’ve said, well, I never forced you to read it did I? My journey will continue, I’m sure there will be hills to climb, and there’ll be holes that try and swallow me up. I will carry on up the road. My destination is over the hill in the distance, but I know it’s there. The map tells me so. © Legs 2008 View/Add Comments ..... |
| 19. LJ's Down Under Diary, Part One | Posted by Lucky_Jim on Wednesday, March 12 (347 reads) |
| Friday, 8th February 2008 Wearily disembarking from the plane at Singapore's Changi Airport I'm feeling more ashamed and embarrassed than I've ever felt in my life. Mrs Jim is looking daggers at me and my fellow passengers are either pointing open-mouthed in wonder (or is that disgust?) or studiously avoiding eye contact, probably because they're afraid that if I met their gaze I might chew off their nose or set fire to their hand luggage. It seems that in the latter half of the thirteen hour flight from the UK to Singapore I'd fallen asleep. That's good, you might think, and normally you’d be right. Except that this time I'd had one of my bouts of night terrors and had unknowingly provided some unscheduled in-flight entertainment for a couple of dozen people in the adjacent rows of seats. During my sleep I'd ranted, I'd sworn, offered violence to anyone in my immediate vicinity, and I'd somehow managed to throw a book with considerable force across the aeroplane cabin into the lap of a startled woman some distance away. (And before you ask, no it wasn’t the ‘Little Book of Calm’.) All whilst so deeply asleep that I couldn't be woken. At one point I even announced that I was going to ‘get off the f***ing aeroplane' which might have proved an interesting prospect if I'd followed it through, as at the time the plane was cruising at 40,000 feet somewhere over the Indian Ocean. I think perhaps some of the other passengers wished I had. Can't say I blame them either. This kind of nocturnal activity has happened to me many times before but always in the privacy of my own house where only my long-suffering wife has had to endure it, and frankly I wasn't prepared for the amount of adverse attention that a public performance would generate. Hence my crestfallen mood as we plodded through Changi airport. Looking on the bright side though, at least I didn't do my party piece on a flight to America. If I did I'd probably have been shot dead by a sky marshal, or first Tasered then bundled into orange overalls and held in a high security chicken coop for the next decade whilst being water boarded every fifteen minutes and force fed on bacon sandwiches. Luckily a good sleep in the transit hotel left Mrs Jim in much more sympathetic mood, and the onward seven hour flight to Adelaide went without further problems. Well I say without problems, but what I mean is without problems caused by me; there were still the dozen or so screaming infants who, like burglar alarms in a thunderstorm, went off in sympathy with each other every few minutes to leave everyone within earshot limp, bedraggled and exhausted by the end of the journey. Anyway here we are, finally in Australia, some two days and several deep vein thromboses after leaving the UK. More from me later when I've recovered. Until then, take care. Monday, 11th February 2008 We'll, at last I've done it. Some three years after beginning the application process, I now have permanent Australian Resident status. Today I went to the Currie Street offices of Adelaide's Immigration and Citizenship Department and, after waiting an hour or so in the company of what seemed like most of south east Asia, I got my turn at counter number six. Tap tap went the clerk on a keyboard, click click, whirr whirr went a machine by her side, and there it was; the magical sticker in my passport that confirms I am now officially a permanent Australian resident. How can I describe how it feels? Absolutely brilliant, that's how. I've scored the winning goal in extra time of the FA Cup Final, I've had my knighthood ceremony interrupted by a messenger announcing that an eight-figure lottery cheque awaits me in the lobby of Buck House, and I've heard from reliable sources that Piers Morgan has been given a life sentence for kiddy fiddling. And on top of that I learn that Jim Junior's Captaincy is now through. Happy days indeed. More tales from my 2008 Down Under trip soon. LJ View/Add Comments ..... |
| 20. Robertson Barracks (Swanton Morley) | Posted by Wends on Thursday, February 07 (355 reads) |
| Hi All, I am new to this, still finding my way around! Not sure if I am even doing this message right..lol My OH is re-badging to Light Dragoon and we will be moving to Swanton Morley soon. Can anyone please tell me what the area, people, schools, work etc is like in the area? I thught I'd ask in case there are any nasty surprises I should look forward to...lol Also, Dereham 6th Form College.. is it a good college? Our son is 15, are there other kids that age in the camp? Sorry about all the questions... Thanks W x View/Add Comments ..... |
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