Giving Thanks! #manners #respect #leadingbyexample

Firstly, thanks for all the correspondence I have had for my last couple of blog posts. I usually leave the more controversial robust posts for my partner but this time they are mine. Blame the rain! 

 
Whilst on the subject of rain, the other day - and I must point out this was not my local shopping centre, which is rather friendly, rather urbane, and rather pleasant - I was visiting a shopping centre and, in front of me at the check out was this lady and her child. As you are aware, I wait so patiently and observe the goings on he he!  Back on track! The lady was being served at the checkout and she pulled a biscuit out of her handbag and to give to the child.  While the service attendant was waiting to receive her credit card, and I waiting in line so patiently, the woman was teasing the child with the biscuit, like a dog obedience trainer is to a Labrador puppy teaching it to sit and heel. However, the mother and the child became less than playful with the training technique, with the child screaming for the biscuit and the mother screaming for a thank you. Eventually, after what seemed the lifespan of the Queen Mother, both achieved their reward. However, the child received a very sore bottom (which I do not agree with by the way) and the mother got the 'Thank you', she so desired.  The lady snatched her credit card and receipt from the service attendant, stuffed the child into the trolley with another smack and scream. Then my turn came to be served with the checkout girl and myself just staring at each other, like two lost souls on a ship going to nowhere.

Not wishing to follow the woman, nor stalk her, I had three other shops that I needed to go to and, sure enough, there she was in front of the queue in two of the shops.  For my third errand I decided to hop in the car and go back to Pleasantville to finish my last one.

The point that I am making here is - this "woman of the demanding thank you", not once thanked the servers who proffered their services to her.  Not once, did she teach by example to her child, the courtesies which she so rigorously required.  Is it so hard to simply say, 'Thank you' to people?  Is it easier to demand, 'Thanks' than give it yourself.  I think not!  Yes the lady may have been having a tough day but is it necessary to use force for thanks?  What is this teaching the child?  Does this behaviour show them bullying is ok or, does it show that they can be bullied.  Either way, its  not the way I want my world to be.  

Surely, all of us must agree, that a simple thanks does not take much energy from our tanks. But, that simple thanks may encourage others to return it in kind, as well.  God knows the checkout operator may be having a tough day one day, jump the counter, and smack us for our lack of manners.  How would we handle that one?  Not well, I am prepared to swear on.   
Ok, we all get absentminded at times and forget manners. But, don't you agree that the simplicities of life can be as rewarding as ticker tape parade down your Main Street. I know at home for instance, just a snatch and snarl may not comfort me sleeping on the couch. Each and everyone of us deserve the right of thanks when it is due. So let's just show it more often and not beat it into someone who forgets, or is learning life's complexities.

These are my thoughts!  I hope you will keep writing in with your's and until next time take care! Always love each other, share a smile, share a shoulder, and share a kind thought for others.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

One Voice! #catholicchurch #pedophilepriests #abuse

Firstly, I would like to thank all the people who emailed me and messaged me on Twitter supporting me with my last article.  I feel humbled that there are so many people who care for those like me, who have opened wounds, that for most, have been hidden for many years.  For many however, these wounds (and I cannot soften this term)  have taken them to sadder places.  Many have struggled in silence and will never have closure to their pain.  Many have borne a shame that was not of their doing, but the doing of those that are the weakest form of life - those that have been able to hide their sin behind closed doors of churches.  Those that sadly, to this day, are hidden, and lost in seas of red tape, by old men who would rather punish the victim than the criminal. 

These old men are no better than those that have perpetrated the crimes upon innocents.  These old men who only have faith in the money and power of churches.  These men who forget that the people are the Church, and without them, they will have no churches to govern, no money to live the lives to which they have become so accustomed.  These men who stand in their pulpits and preach the love of God and yet fail to show one glimmer of love and compassion for the ones who have suffered.  These old men who do not realize that the victims would, for the most, be happy with an apology. To have the guarantee that these crimes will never happen again, and if they do, these clergy should face the law as any other man or woman on Earth.  That these matters are of a civil nature, and not one, to be examined by men whose authority only acts to hide, and victimize, the truth of the innocent who already, for most, are God fearing people.

Why can't these old men see the suffering that the Catholic Church, itself, went through for decades before signing the Lateran Treaty in 1929.  These men of faith who were feared by people like Mussolini because he was afraid of the strength and power of a Church, back then, of 400 million people. Imagine, if Mussolini (whose own father loathed the Church) felt weak without the Catholic Church, how victims feel when they are confronted by teams of lawyers who support this Church.  Yet, these old men who know the strength of the Catholic Church, feel no compassion for their own who are already battle worn by criminals of the cloth. Yes, Pius XI signed that treaty with the fascists, and kept these men in the power positions that they still hold today.

I know for me, all I wanted was the apology and the blame being placed on the perpetrator not on me. I asked back then could he get help.  That help appeared to have been given in the form of a promotion. Help that kept him very comfortable till his death. Yes, you may say I am a little bitter. My retort to that is, 'I am' but, that in itself may have been smoothed many years ago with a little compassion and respect for me as the victim.

For most of us, we ask nothing but understanding, for what we went through.  We do not want to destroy the Church. However, we want the Catholic Church to know that it is made up of humans who are not without sin.  We acknowledge that, so why is it so hard for these old men to just admit that they, and the clergy, are not born of the Virgin Mary but human like the rest of us. We just want these old men to believe their own preaching that the Church is of love, compassion, and healing.

So today, I just ask the Church to believe in their healing. However, firstly they must examine the wounds of the past, apply compassion, offer comfort, and maybe add some additional bandages (for those who seek compensation) but above all share the love, that Christ himself died for on the cross. Don't turn your anger on the victims! In return, you will gain a very mighty Church that is made up of people, of  'One Voice', in an unending hymn of love and faith.

Keep the emails rolling in and I hope that everyone stays safe until next time we talk.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

thepoliticalcarnival.net

 

Punishment, Cardinal Sins #abuse #pedophile #catholicchurch

As you would have read recently, my body copped some punishment from paving. You may also realize by now that I am a sunshine boy and though I appreciate the rain, it gives me a trembling of what is to come.  It gives me a damp shivers that cut deep to my heart and soul.

The last couple of days have rained continually and my sadness builds with every drop that falls. To this day, I am not a lover of sodden clothes.  Along with the sodden clothes, and the punishment that this paving has given my body over the last few days, my mind wanders back to a time where I know I should have been able to enjoy simply being me, without consequence, without fear. 

St Stephens Brisbane (en.wikipedia.org)

My mind wanders to when this young surfer boy with  blue eyes, sun bleached, blonde hair, and brown as a berry skin, was learning to accept his own sexuality and simply being me.  A young Catholic boy attending Catholic schools, attending Catholic rituals and trusting that confession was the correct, and God expected, thing to do.  So, along to the parish priest I would go, expecting forgiveness in readiness for the next sins, and so forth, as all cheeky good boys would do. The priest of the time would accept my confession and deliver my penance.  That penance was to be washing his car.  He had a penchant for shiny chromed wheels.  He would hold the hose pointing and drenching the sinner with water as he inspected his passion.  So not to go home to my parents with sodden clothes they would need to be dried in the dryer while he satisfied another penchant and served his penance.  The sins that I was developing needed to be curbed after all and who better than a man of the cloth to discourage my sins.  Each sin he would proclaim in his words 'punishment time' and my body would learn the wrath of God in a very 'hard' way.  For my initial sin, of admitting who I was, it was recommended that I speak solely to him, on a regular and confidential basis.  Of which this dumb, little surfer boy accepted.  How else without the acceptance of God was I going to exist in this world.

This 'punishment time' went for what seems to have been a life time.  My saviour for my sins was to be going away with his parents for his father to be installed as Governor of a service organization. His advice was not to confess to his replacement but, to wait till his return, for what might be a bulk confession, and forgiveness, in one go.  In his absence there was to be quite a few who would hold back their confessions until his return.  Over the next few weeks a few of us discovered that our sins were familiar and carried the same penalties. Only then did we realize that, maybe they were not the will of God, but man made. Together, with discussion, we decided to meet with the Bishop to get his view on our 'acts of confession'.  He agreed that these were not proper.  He would deal with it.  'Priests were very hard to get,' he said so he would discourage him from his penchant for shiny chrome wheels.

Back then, none of us had any idea of compensation. Not one of us wanted nor needed it. We all came from fairly influential parents so what's money.   All we needed was recognition and comfort for what we appeared to be suffering together.  Suffering from being ourselves. To this day I might add none of us have been comforted by any member of the clergy. On his return from his fathers installation, my confessor confronted me and the others that we had ruined his life.  That we would have embarrassed him to his Superintendent of Police father and Governor of this charity service organization.

His ruination existed for approximately 3 days until he was moved to the chaplain for elderly Catholic care-giving ladies.  Later to be appointed parish priest of a new parish which consisted of a primary school and a boys boarding college.  I guess a buffet of treats awaited for his ruination after all.

About two weeks ago now that same priest was buried with fanfare from the city cathedral, his parish church and a family ceremony.  I would assume that his fanfare was not, as one of the guys in my group's, whose fanfare was from the hands of 3 predators, male prostitution, drugs and AIDS. Yes, I am one of the lucky ones, who accepted my life choices, never went to confession again, believed that my God is a God of love and that these inhumane humans will one day meet a greater penance giver, in their after life.

Yes, this rain brings sadness to me. Yes, my thoughts are not nice of Cardinals, who still have the right to offer nothing, but a lousy bit of money (yes money not compassion) for those who were not as lucky as me.  Yes, my thoughts are angry as to why a man who served his church as a lay music minister in Chicago for 16 years was dismissed because he proposed to his boyfriend.  Yes, my sadness is existent because my church was built on love - not on money, my church was built on equality - not on sexuality.  Yet my church is governed by power, greed, and bigotry.  These cardinals dress in frocks that our worst dressed drag queens would never wear on a Friday or Saturday night. These men need learn that the attendance at the very church, of which they govern, is falling below their hem line rather than just accepting that we all have failings. We all have sin, and together as one, we may build a faith that is built on love and respect for each, and every, human being.  Only then will the flocks come back to the men in frocks.

So my prayer is: 
Please God may the sunshine come out tomorrow, 
May the downpour cleanse and refresh us, 
May it give us hope for a better future, a future that is fueled by love not division.   
May it give us a freedom to be who we are. 
A freedom for the churches to take responsibility for their actions of neglect.  
A freedom to say sorry for the sins of the past and never to repeat.  
And may my prayer give Freedom to forgive and accept those sins of the past. 
Amen. 

Please keep up the emails. Until next time take care, and remember, we are in this together and the sun will come out tomorrow.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

 Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

Tomorrow - Annie (Movie)

commons.wikimedia.org

Getting Laid #love #life #relationships

As you read recently, we just had our conservatory built. Now it is up, the courtyard needs a makeover. The sun no longer gets to the grass, and barren soil is not really a good look. I maybe an interior designer but, as a manual labourer, I think I have limitations.  Having said that, I try not to let anything defeat me and I will give anything a try - once. Well within limits.

He he.

Having my measurements at hand, having sourced my supplier of pavers, my credit card in my pocket and small truck to pick up my purchases, I take off for the adventure of broken fingernails, rough hands and crippled knees.

I had not told you that these new pavers must be matched up to the existing pavers, both in colour and laying pattern.  My friend that I speak of regularly, helped (ok laid most) with the last lot.  So, I have a pattern and a standard to live up to. Sad she could not afford me the 1600 kilometre trip to help me with these, but I assure you her presence is felt continually with the constant 'Send me a pic text' and 'Have you used a spirit level text'.  Be it noted not once has she sent a 'Show me your broken fingernail text'.  I have tried the sympathy root but, 'Toughen up baby text' really does not console my loss of skin, nail and aching knees. I swear the woman was Attila the Hun in a previous life. I also find it amazing, that my other half finds something else to do, as soon as he hears (amazing as he is deaf) the side gate open for me to carry these 400 x 400 weapons of torture through to the back garden.

The winter weather is kind for my labour. There are no streams of sweat beating off my brow. Now that's a bonus!  I really admire people that can slog it out in the heat and not seem to show any ill effect apart from bulging muscles. I can always dream that my few days of hard labour may put me in the running for Mr. Universe.

My mind wanders when I am in the garden and paving brings no exception.  My mind thinks how easy it looks to fit square pieces of slab together, but the preparation, and the time spent to make it fit perfectly, is rather like life itself. We all may appear to be the same fit but making it uniform is another story.  Life is really like that, we are all individual pieces, but blending in. Fitting perfectly can be hard work, but the end result is beneficial to all. Doing it yourself you may get some scrapes, some aches! But, if worked properly, taking time, realizing the lay of the land, we all fit together like an intricate quilt.  Mind you if getting laid was a painful as this, I think I would join a convent.

Love and relationships are much the same as this, if worked with care and consideration, some thought and preparation, we can have a work of art in our own personal landscape. Something that is long lasting and, with proper maintenance, can sustain our needs for a lifetime. Yes, it may get a little messy, it may be gruelling sometimes, but the rewards are limitless.

Unlike paving, where we can bring in some professionals, our life landscape has to be hand done.  It needs a devotion to detail. We need to set  our foundations on firm ground for the future, and yes, like the pavers, the bedding (ooops of sand) can be nice and keep us firm and fixed in place for when the sand in our life hour glass starts to time out.

Until next time, I trust you will keep up the emails, keep me informed of your life's happenings and stay safe.  Right now I must go proffer another 'Send me a pic text' to Attila, my friend Piglette to show that my work is of the highest slave labour.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

But for the Grace of God! #love #compassion #caring

My post on the blog, the other day, expressed my feelings of loss and sadness with the passing of Robin Williams. I am obviously not alone in my grief, as the tributes and accolades continue to pour in from many around the world.  To those who read my post and emailed, agreeing to adopt my 'you & me' policy, I thank you.  To those who replied in a less than courteous manner, my response is 'But for the Grace of God go you'.

Not one of us have closed our eyes eternally as yet. Unless, of course, you are one of the minority who responded in a disrespectful manner to my writing. You too, are probably the same ones that caused Zelda Williams to close her accounts on social media because of your inhumane ramblings on his passing. Do you not think that this family has suffered enough. They were gracious enough to share their beautiful thoughts and memories, with a public that mourned with them. To you that are eternally closed eyed and venom mouthed, I hope that you may one day learn a sense of compassion, and acceptance, for minorities that are born like the rest of us with skin and, a need for oxygen to exist.  

Until we all learn to accept and tolerate our differences, this world will be a source of angst for any minority.  Discrimination of any kind should not be tolerated and actually be penalized by every country in this world.  I know this is probably a 'pie in the sky' ambition, but only then can we co-exist on equal footing.  Let us as caring human beings be there to help, be there to guide, be there to comfort others, that we classify as somehow different to what we perceive as normal.

This man took his life out of desperation, a desperation born of depression. This desperation can manifest itself differently from person to person.  This desperation may strike anyone at anytime. Therefore, we should try to be there for them. And, be there for those that are left to cope with the trauma that befronts them, as well as their personal gut wrenching loss.

Not one person on this earth should suffer discrimination at the hands of people (and I use that word nicely) who evoke hatred and separatism. Our lives have not ended and we cannot tell what is around the corner for any of us.  I believe love can cure all, and that love has no gender, race or disability. The love that we share, and reach out to others with, should be as personal as we want the love in our own lives to be.  The good books of life, no matter what religion, are based on love, compassion and care.  Why should religions adjust the fundamental ability to love on the basis of man made laws. The God of whatever we believe in, gave the gift of love.  Not a gift that has provisos of who we should love or how we should love.  We we given from birth a heart untouched by bigotry and hate and therefore, no religion nor government should place boundaries on who we love or who we help.

I believe that as long as we are not hurting anyone in our love, no one should be discriminated against.  I believe in the case of Robin Williams, not one of us has the right to judge his actions. I have nothing but admiration for this man and feel a deep sense of sadness that he had reached a point in his life where he felt he could no longer go on.  None of us know his desperation, emptiness and sadness and, until we walk in his or anyone else's  shoes, we do not own the right to discriminate nor judge him or anyone else.

To those who believe in my 'You & Me' policy, I am with you 100%.  To those with empty heart and closed eyes, my wish for you is that you may turn your anger to compassion, your hate to love, and your discrimination to equality.

And in recognition of a great man who lost his way I beg that all may turn to the person on their right or left and say, 'You are not Alone'.

Till next time keep those emails coming, and take care,

Cheers,
 
Bitchescoz
Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

Let It Go! #abuse #caring #love #compassion

A little while back, I wrote of a friend of mine and his stressful relationship with his mother.  I asked if anyone could give advice of how to help him with his dilemma. I passed the advice and information from your emails on to him. Thank you! 

After discussions with his new found helpers, they established that he should distance his contact with her.  For the most part, all was going well apart from her abusive texts, and her usual undermining of him to family and friends, but he rose above it all and was going along quite well. 

Inevitably a family function had to be attended. He hummed and haa'd as to whether he should go, or not ,but decided he had nothing to hide so he would attend. This reunion was to be difficult for him, but I know sometimes you need to bite the bullet. I advised him to play it cool and just be nice.  Hopefully the evening would go without incident and he would stay his dignity, which he has always kept, intact! 

Sure enough the woman ,in her evil plot, had readied herself for the kill.  The minute he arrived she told everyone of the prodigal sons return! Of how she had been neglected, and shunned, after everything she had ever done for him.  The 'everything' that she had done, was that of any normal parent - clothe, educate and feed him as a child.  She failed to talk of her manipulation, her torment, her unending assassination of his character over the years.  She also failed to admit that even after all of this, he stood tall and accepted her abuse publicly and personally.  Never did he once denounce her and her evil, embarrassing her like she so often did to him.  

I am proud that my friend kept his cool throughout the evening.  I am proud that my friend did not dip into the gene pool and retaliate in the matriarchal way.  I am proud that my friend left in a dignified manner! Even after she had publicly stated that his love had been payed for in full through her expenditure on him from birth.  Sometimes I feel that no matter how often you turn the cheek and turn back with love, there is a time for you to walk away.  Don't look back.  Refuse to be someone who others can wipe their feet on.  Let it Go.  

My friend and many others have endured this humiliation, this abuse. This form of abuse, though not physical, is something from which you must escape, despite the costs.  No one should endure physical or emotional beatings.  No tie, family, friend or lover should have to succumb to this.  

We intend to stand beside my friend through the emotion, the mourning of his family loss. Any member of his family that allows this to happen to a fellow human being, is not worthy to be in his presence.  We will help him through his loss. Help him to rebuild a life that is compete without the abuse that he has become so used to.  

If anyone you know is suffering abuse in any shape or form please stand by them.  Please give them support, as even if they willingly choose to leave this abusive relationship and family situation, they will indeed feel loss, and they will feel a mourning.  Please don't stand back and, say it has nothing to do with you. Abuse is something that needs to be stopped. Every person deserves the dignity of respect.  Every person deserves someone to lean on in their times of trouble.  

Unless we reach out and offer help, care, and comfort to those suffering our lives will be shallow.  If we don't offer help we will be as guilty as my friend's evil mother.  

These are my thoughts. I hope and pray that you too may feel as I do and reach out and be a shoulder for those more needy than ourselves. Till next time.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

Make Em Laugh! #respect #love #condolences

Today we, the world, lost a dear friend.  Today, we lost someone who always brought a smile back to our faces.  Someone who made us feel better.  Our very own 'Patch Adams' - Mr Robin Williams. May he find the peace he craved!
 

NaNu NaNu - Rest in Peace Dear Friend

Ironic that the man who could light up the world with laughter, was indeed hiding his torment and fears behind his persona.  A successful man, a father, a husband, and one, whom we would presume was well with the world and loved by all.

This illness that took our friend is an illness that is lingering in the corridors, the streets, and indeed in our very own backyards.  An illness that has no quick fix remedy and can strike and wreak havoc on anyone. This illness is not concerned with its victim's colour, race, creed or circumstance.  When it strikes, it not only strikes the victims, but leaves a path of destruction in its wake for those around the affected person and indeed, the world.  The after shocks incurred by this illness, leave people with a loss and mourning that, quite often, is deeper than any other illness.  In most circumstances those around have not had time to prepare for the unthinkable.  This illness strikes quickly, and there can be little, or no warning, to prepare for or indeed stop, this catastrophe.

Quite often these people show no signs of their condition.  Many, many people live with the Black Dog of depression and go about their daily lives with their masks of normality hiding the sadness, the despair and the hopelessness. It appears that often these larrikins use their laughter to hide the most silent of tears behind this veneer, showing to the world, a life that looks pristine and perfect to those around them.

The research scientists for this illness are simple folk.  These scientists are "You & Me".  Each, and everyone of us, have been given the qualifications from the highest education system there is.  Each, and everyone of us, has been given the doctorate at birth of love and compassion from our own God.

We the scientists have a duty to observe, inoculate and heal those who have contracted this most silent of diseases.  Yes our Petri dishes and Beakers may break from time to time but, we cannot stop our duty to heal our fellow man.  We as partners in this fabric of life must break the cycle.  Our observatory skills must be ready at anytime.  Our humble skills need to be there in the form of a shoulder, a smile, an ear, an adviser for those who have succumb to this illness before and after they seek help.

We need this amazing man's passing to be a reminder that each, and everyone of us, has a duty to stop this illness.  We need to turn, in love, to everyone around us.  Depression is constructed in many forms, but you and I have the power to stop this senseless slaughter.  The molecules of bullying, agism, sexism, racism can be cured by the greatest scientists on earth, "You & Me.

You and I must take our oath of office today.  Together we can make a difference.  Together we can administer our prescription of love, care and compassion.

These are my thoughts and I look forward to more comments to my emails.  Until next time, take care.

Cheers!

Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

Make Em Laugh - Donald O'Connor

How Long is a Piece of String? #love #relationships #philosophy

We all use philosophical riddles like 'How long is a piece of string?' And others such as 'How deep is the ocean?" They are riddles that do not have an answer and, when you think about it, one can't add a quantity or length to it.  This is the same for love really! How do we quantify love? 

irisclasson.com

Each and every one of us is different. We have our own likes and dislikes. Quite often it is these differences or similarities that create great relationships, be it as friends or lovers. The depth of love varies depending on the type and the person. If it is a friendship love you bounce your differences off each other and there is acceptance of that. But, the beauty of a friendship love is you are not in a 24/7 situation often. This is the case for my Bestie and I, though we have managed some very heated exchanges via text message. Boy, I am glad I am not the screen on her phone as she thumps her messages out when we are in full flight. I am sure the satellite has smoke pouring out of it as our texts fly back and forth. However, our differences soon pass and then, past is past!

In a family love it is much the same, you all have differences, interests, and preferences. 'Blood is thicker than water.' they say, referring to families 'sticking together through thick and thin'. However, the old saying 'You can choose your friends but you cannot choose your relatives' is probably more accurate as sibling rivalry, old squabbles, and new beginnings strain relationships. Though mostly, you respect the blood tie and your love again is a riddle that only you and the other party can quantify.  
 
A love/partner relationship, is ongoing, learning, growing together. It is experiencing life's joys, and trials and tribulations scenario. This is a more in your face, in your bed, situation. This relationship needs a lot of attention from both parties to keep the zing, the romance, and the passion for togetherness alive. Just because you share a house, you share a bed, does not mean that both of you are exactly the same. The love that we as partners have, varies from relationship to relationship. Each and every one of us have our own hidden, or open rules.  God, I know we do, even though I am perfect :) There can still be differences from time to time.  

Each type of love is a philosophical riddle in  itself.  The depth, strength, and longevity is determined by what we put into it.  As none of us are privy to when we close our eyes for the last time, we should be open to learning, to growing, to nurturing any love that is before us. Our circle of friends love may vary or grow. But, how open we are to others determines how, why and when!

The love we have for each other is not determined by our bank balance.  It should not be based on 'My love is better than your love' owing to what you have done for someone.  Love should be a gift with no expectations placed on it.  A free merging of spirit and acceptance. A generosity of heart. We as adults should not accept that love can be directed by, and dictated, as to who we love by ancient teachings or politics.  

In other words love has no limits, just the extremities of how great each, and everyone of us, can make it.  Sure, there will be dark and difficult days! But, knowing that someone is there with you, be it friend, family, or lover, the philosophical statement "the sky is the limit" is yours for the asking.  

These are my thoughts and I would love to hear from you again on email.  I love the discussions.  

Till next time crank up the volume of Diana Ross and sing along with me 'Ain't no mountain high enough.'

Cheers!
 
Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Diana Ross

Love can be Scratchy at Times! #comfort #home #relocation

At the beginning of the year we erected one of those do it yourself gazebos. It was to see us through the interim until we got quotes, council permits etc for the construction of a new conservatory. Then, along came the patter of little feet (four actually)!  There is an abundance of wildlife in our area and they all seem to like our back garden. One night, a mother possum appeared with her baby and sort of asked us to baby sit for a while.  Maybe she needed a night out on the town after being left high and dry by the father, with a baby to feed and nurture.  Anyway, mum never came back leaving us with a hairy little infant. We rang the wildlife people and they said she probably will come back but, in the meantime, give the baby some fruit and nuts.  One thing lead to another and days went by! My partner said the possum needed a drink and so then I was back on the phone to the wildlife people asking them what we can give it to drink?  The wildlife people said that possums are lactose intolerant so honey water or lactose free milk was the go.  'How do we do this?' we ask, as she wasn't drinking from a bowl. So, we went off to the pharmacy, bought a baby bottle, lactose free milk for infants, and attempted to feed.  She would not drink the milk! So, we changed to honey water.  Away she went, gobbling down the stuff! So cute!  

Mum never came back and, as baby began growing she would go out on the town herself.  I presume to check if she could find mum at one of the possum clubs or dating services.  Every morning, there baby would be, snuggled up in her little cocoon of canvas, to emerge for some fruit, nuts, and the bottle as soon as we woke.  She would then go back for the days sleep. At night, before she went out clubbing in search of mum, she would get our attention for a quick bite to eat before leaving for another night of looking for mummy dearest.  

This has gone on for months now, and finally, our new conservatory is to be built starting Thursday. We rang the wildlife people again about relocating her and they said to build her a little house close to where she has been camping. (he he) Encourage her with fruit and put some smelly bits of canvas  in the house to make her feel at home.

With Google plans in hand, we take off to the hardware shop so we can build a home fit for a queen. (ok possum) We purchase our materials, load them into the Jag and away we go.  Neither of us are of handyman status, but we did a fairly good job.  We waterproofed it, mounted it close to her original site but out of the way of construction.  

Today was the day to coax her into her new domain.  My partner says to me that maybe the hole in her new home gives too much light. So, I race inside, run up some block out curtains to hang, so her day time sleep is not disturbed.  Fit the drapes, now the coaxing begins.  Ok, she appears for breakfast takes the bottle as we walk with it toward her new abode.  She goes so far, then turns back.  Though she appears to love us, picking her up is a problem!  They have the longest claws which are not gay friendly, I tell you.  So three hours of encouragement to a very tired little girl and finally she is in, adjusted her bedding and seems set for a life of bliss and contentment.  We demolished the old house so there is no temptation to go back.  


I guess like all of us, we take comfort in our surrounds and familiar habits.  But every now and again, we must up root or up root someone else. It can be very difficult, and there will be problems adjusting. Yes a few scratches along the way.  But love isn't love if you haven't felt some pain, don't you think. But, if we encourage, guide, and let others move at their own pace, it can be quite painless.   

Baby was left alone at a tender age and she needed to feel support and nurturing on her journey. This is like all of us in some shape or form.  And for those around us who are left, we need to get out of our comfort zone and give help to someone in need.  That day may come, when we need someone to help us.  

These are my thoughts and as always feel free to email me and give me your thoughts.  Or maybe you have something you want to discuss.  

Cheers

Bitchescoz

Contact: luke65mcbride@gmail.com

Fuzzy Balls #sharing #community #cooperation

As you may have figured by now, I am quite into fashion and trying to look my best. My partner, however, is not!  Though he does like to wear my clothes and save his own money. However, he could dress in a horse blanket and still look great. Oh, the perils of a clothes horse.

In our relationship we share most things.  Somethings we do well together as a team. Others we are capable of, but better at, or more experienced to do alone.  This is common within any household. General cleaning etc we share.  Cooking he mainly attends, I do on occasions but, I don't have the savoir-faire that he does. So, I tend to limit my dining experiences to the decoration of the table, the ambient music (that he can't hear owing to being deaf) and the eating. Oh and lets not forget, the toasting of his culinary successes with the glasses of champagne. (Ooops did I pluralize that?)

Anyway I deviate from our Fuzzy Balls.  Despite our differences in clothing, one thing we really share is the preening that goes into cleanliness and hygiene. Our hot water bills will attest to that. Neither of us like things out of place, both body and home. One of us, not saying which, jumps faster than me as soon as he sees things getting a little messy.  This jumping can sometimes carry a downside to his obsession for his saving money, not wasting time, and environmental efficiency.

To elaborate, I tend to throw things in the washer to sort later. He, on the other hand, sees the opportunity to save time and just throw anything in on top without sorting.  Yes, it gets clean but those fuzzy balls that appear on my beautiful sweaters when they emerge from the wash just drive me balmy.  This is  one of the said jobs that I am happier to do.  Yes, I am happy to do this, peg our socks in rows on the line, to pick after dry and, allow him to iron later.  But, please don't touch the washer and give us fuzzy balls over our smooth attachments. Yes I realize that you see it and want everything ship shape, but leave it to the expert!

Having said all of this, each and everyone of us has something to contribute to each other's lives. Something,s we shine at and somethings, others shine at.  This being said, if we just pool our shining attributes, we can work together to make things better.  All of us are different, but if we share our talents, the whole world may benefit.  It is far more beneficial to pool our resources and work together than it is to stand and watch from the sideline.  I am sure most of us have the goal of getting along and making everyone else's, and our own lives, less complicated, less alone, less fragmented.Yes there will be fuzzy ball days but, if we share, take responsibility, and give a little, those days will surely become less frequent.

If we learn to share those frustrating days with others, we can learn to experience others strengths and weaknesses.  Offer our strengths to the pool of life and work together for a common goal and that is compassion, love and acceptance.

These are my thoughts, I hope that you will give me your thoughts about my fuzzy balls.  Until next time, take care!

Cheers

Bitchescoz

People - Barbra Streisand