Sunday 28 April 2024

Hope

 


 

    Life isn’t always plain sailing as we all know. Illness can strike unexpectedly and lives can be turned upside down.

    For those who are admitted to the hospital and face a long stay, feelings of despair and abandonment can creep in and trying to remain optimistic is hard.

    All they can do is hope that their future may become brighter than the dark days they are experiencing.

    The poem extract featured today is by John Keats and is about finding ourselves searching for hope and comfort, whilst facing moments of despair.


To Hope

 

When by my solitary hearth I sit,

And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; 

When no fair dreams before my mind's eye flit,

And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;

Sweet hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,

And wave thy silver pinions over my head!


Whenever I wander, at the fall of night,

Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray,

Should sad despondency my musings fright,

And frown, to drive fair cheerfulness away,

Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof,

And keep that fiend despondence far aloof!

 

John Keats  1795-1821

 

 


Friday 12 April 2024

No Kissing Required, Chapter Four

    The first book in my Salvation series is available to read free on Kindle from tomorrow for a few days. Jenny’s story, featured in this chapter illustrates bullying can happen at ant age and in any trusted relationship.

    Other extracts from my books can be read on this blog.

 

Chapter Four

 


Jenny’s Story


Jenny Green is lying on top of her bed staring into space when her cell phone starts to ring. On the display screen she can see it’s her boyfriend calling.

“Hi Kurt, I’m sorry I don’t think I can see you tonight.” She had been dreading this call.

“What do you mean you don’t think you can see me tonight?” says Kurt angrily. When he says jump, he expects others to say ‘how high?’, and his girlfriend is no exception.

“I see you every night. I’ll see you, usual place, or are you meeting some other guy?” He isn’t going to accept excuses.

“No. Of course not. I love you Ku…” Jenny can feel the tears prick her eyes as Kurt hangs up. Why did he constantly get so mad with her? They made out most nights, even when she didn’t want to. 

She had just wanted to explain that her mother had suggested that they should spend some quality time together. The suggestion came out of the blue and it was unlikely to
happen again in a long while.

Jenny’s mother, Gabriella, is a forty-something, going on twenty, divorcee. She goes clubbing with her friends most nights, meaning that Jenny can normally do as she pleases, with no questions asked. The young woman is treating her mother’s newfound caring side with mistrust. But as she’s always longed to have a close relationship with her mother, like
other girls at school have, she’s willing to give it a go. 

But what is she going to do about Kurt? She doesn’t want to do anything that might cause her to lose him. She is the envy of all the girls at school, as he’s Wingate High’s promising sports
star of the future. Her mind drifts, she dreams of them together in the years to come, she’ll have fancy clothes and jewelry and they’ll guest at red carpet events. Kurt promises her it all.

There’s a knock at Jenny’s bedroom door. “Jenny, the pizzas are here. I’ve put your favorite chick flick in the DVD player. Cold beer for me, cold soda for you. We’re all set.” Gabriella
enters the room. Jenny doesn’t reply, her mind is racing. She can’t let Kurt down, he can get any other girl he wants. “Okay a cold beer for you as well. One won’t do you any harm.”
Gabriella tries to coax a response from her daughter. 

“I don’t want pizza. I don’t want beer. In fact I don’t want you,” shouts Jenny defensively at her mother and she suppresses her tears of frustration.

“You ungrateful little tramp. I could have been out with Andy tonight.” Gabriella is angry at her daughter’s outburst.

“Don’t let me spoil your night,” screams Jenny.

“Spoil my night. You’ve spoiled my life. Don’t bother coming down for pizza.” As she storms out of her daughter’s bedroom, Gabriella slams the door closed behind her.

“Bitch,” shouts Jenny after her mother. Glaring at the closed wooden door, she wishes that she could see through it. She wants her mother to know how much she hates her. After all, her mother has just made it very clear that she has no love for her at all. Gabriella’s beloved little dog, Kushi, has always been at the forefront of her mother’s affections. “Bitch.”

§ § §

“Goodnight Isais. Thanks for the lift and the company. Probably see you tomorrow.” I walk with Isais to the front door.

“Probably will. Goodnight boy, enjoy school.” He gives me one of his now familiar big hugs. As I close the door, I can hear Isais laugh loudly as he makes his way down the front path.

I walk into the kitchen where Aunt Sylvia is putting away the dishes that Isais and I washed and dried earlier.

“Daniel, sit down at the table, we need to have a little chat. I’ll be with you in a moment.” I instantly realize by Aunt Sylvia’s tone that she takes the role of guardian very seriously. Now that we’re alone we’ll be able to get to know each other a bit better.

“Sure, time to get down to business.” My bravado is to cover up the fact that I’m now feeling rather nervous. Although the word nervous is an understatement; I’m totally petrified. Whilst Isais was with us, the evening had been happy and relaxed. But I knew the serious stuff would have to be raised at some point in the evening.

“Daniel, do you understand why you are here with me?”

“Yes. Mikey explained, sorry I mean Archangel Michael.” I don’t mean to be discourteous towards her or Mikey. I hope she’s okay with what I just said. Things are good, she’s smiling.

“I’m sure it was all explained to you, but I’d like to reiterate a very important point; you’re here because you need to prove that you deserve salvation.” Her voice is so gentle, kind of hypnotic. I’m not sure if she wants me to say anything or not. If in doubt, which I am, I think I’d better wait for her to speak again. Phew, she’s opening her mouth. “You’ll be tested on various things. We angels require a multitude of strings to our harps. We offer everyday guidance, healing, support, as well as spiritual guidance. We also need to demonstrate that we can protect, deliver others and ourselves from evil. Unfortunately for Earth, Satan is at large and more humans than normal need our help right now.” Her eyes search my face. I think she’s probably weighing me up.

“Seems simple enough.” I’m trying to sound confident but I’m quaking in my boots. Aunt Sylvia seems to find my statement as amusing as you probably did; she titters in an angel like manner. Not that you would know how an angel titters and I have no time to mimic her titter at
present. I have a few things that I want to clear up and now would probably be as good a time as any to get my questions out of the way.

“I’ve had two kid’s profiles downloaded to me, but no pictures, how will I know them?” This has been quite a puzzle to me.

“The information you have been provided with is pretty accurate. For one, you have their names and a few discreet inquiries around school should point you in their direction.”

“Okay I never thought of that. That’s put my mind a bit more at ease about the good guys. What about the bad ones?” I only asked the question because I thought you would want to know.

“Unlike the good guys, as you like to call them, you won’t always know them. The Devil and his accomplices come in all shapes and disguises. They will endeavor to seduce you and enlist you in their wicked, cruel ways. Going with the Red Rider will do nothing but lead to your ruin and your heavenly ambitions will be destroyed.” No smiles from her this time.

“I can understand why you chuckled earlier. If my enemies aren’t easily identified, things are going to be a little more difficult than I first anticipated. In fact, I was being cocky.”

“I don’t think you were being cocky; you were being a tad naive. I know this is something that you will have been told already, but there is no harm in me going over it again. You do have a slight advantage over the Devil’s new recruits. The power of good, given to you by our Lord, will help protect you from their attacks. But once their souls have been fully possessed by the Red Rider, I’m afraid it will be a matter of good versus evil. And we can only pray that the good you have been empowered with will win. Now, do you have any other questions?” Aunt Sylvia is a real sensitive lady. The only problem I can see with the powers I’ve been given is that no one has actually explained what they are. Mikey told me that it’s all about gaining hands-on experience.

“Do you think I’ll ever have any recollection of who I am, how I died, or will heaven even be able to establish the true facts?” I’m starting to feel rather anxious about this whole thing, especially the devil slaying part. Maybe I should have jumped in the lake, saved them the trouble.

“Your memory should gradually return. I will try and explain what’s happening the best way I can. Following accidents, trauma, and bad experiences, some humans suffer from amnesia. They can’t recall past memories, or retain current happenings until their brain deals with
what caused it to forget in the first place.

“In the same way, you’re having to come to terms with the traumatic experience of death. This in turn, has caused your recollection process to go into lock down. Dan, don’t build your hopes up, it may take some time. In fact, it could take years before you will remember anything about yourself. Of course there is also the risk that when you do recollect, you’ll wish you never had.”

“Do you think Heaven will find out my true identity in the near future?”

“Dan, these are very unusual circumstances. The Gatekeeper keeps excellent records and you’re proving to be an enigma.”

“Mmm. Let’s hope I’m a good guy then.”

“Dan, even if you’re not, I am on your side and I will help you when and where I can. As will the other celestial beings who watch over you. This is your big chance, grab  it with both hands.”

Something that will surprise you is I’m kind of lost for words. I look at Sylvia for some kind of assurance.

“Now when you go to bed think hard about what I’ve said to you. Now let us pray.” She smiles and takes my hand.

If it was possible for me to run for the door and head for the hills, I would do it right now, at this minute. But somehow I think the celestial beings would find me. I better just pray and hope that someone up there is listening to the pleading in my voice. We both say in unison,

“Our Father who art in heaven…”

https://devilslayingamongstotherthings.blogspot.com/2023/07/no-kissing-required-chapter-two.html

https://www.amazon.com/No-Kissing-Required-Salvation-Book-ebook/dp/B08GD315P1/ 

Saturday 9 March 2024

March #Doing It For The Girls

   This week we've been celebrating ‘International Women's Week’ on 4th -10th March 2024 and ‘International Women's Day’ on 8th March 2024. This year's theme is ‘Inspire inclusion.’

     Through the centuries, it has been hard for women to have gender equality and inclusion. Because of this, many talented women have been excluded from society and branded as being different, causing them to lead a secluded and lonely life.

    
    Their work not being recognized until they were sadly not with us. One such talent was the American poet, Emily Dickinson. Today I want to pay homage to her and I've included one of her poems. Some of the #photographs I took in the month of  March a few years ago, so I felt were fitting. I hope you enjoy it.
 
    Remember, we’re #DoingItForTheGirls!!
 

 

Dear   March


Dear March ... Come in ...

How glad I am ...

I hoped for you before ...

Put down your hat ...

You must have walked ...

How out of breath you are ...

Dear March, how are you and the rest ...

Did you leave nature well ...

 Oh March, come right up the stairs with me ...

I have so much to tell ...


 

I got your letter, and the birds ...

The Maples never knew that you were coming ...

I declare, how red their faces grew ...

But March, forgive me ...

 And all those hills you left for me to hue ...

There was no purple suitable ...

You took it all with you ...


Who knocks? that April ...

Lock the door ...

I will not be pursued ...

He stayed away a year to call.

When I am occupied ...

But trifles look so trivial

As soon as you have come


That  blame is just as dear as praise,

And praise as mere as blame ...


Emily Dickinson 1830 ⁄ 1886


Tuesday 13 February 2024

Words from the Heart

 

 

To love, is to cherish

To cherish, is to adore

To adore, is to treasure

To treasure, is to be devoted to 

To be devoted to, is to be faithful

To be faithful to, is to be committed to 

To be committed to, is what I am to you

My darling Valentine 


 

Tuesday 6 February 2024

Watching You Watching Me

    



    A few years ago I wrote about a little unexpected housemate I encountered  in my home at the time.https://devilslayingamongstotherthings.blogspot.com/2014/09/meeting-my-room-mate.html?m=1

    In my house now, in the last few months  one of her distant cousins has set up home with us. We had suspected for a while that a gecko had moved in, after catching fleeting glances  as she darted behind the fridge/freezer or, dishwasher. ( For the sake of the story I'm genderising as she.)

    But, she has grown comfortable in our environment and has now made home behind our sideboard. The lizard realizes we do not pose a threat to her. How do I know that? Each night at 18.20 p.m. on the dot she climbs out of her hideaway and sits in full view. I'm not sure if it's a, watching you, watching me scenario. No connection to the Bill Withers song.

   A few times this normally nocturnal creature has freaked me out a little, but she does a good job of keeping unwanted insects at bay. Because of the warm climate here, mosquitoes, and ants are a common pest in the home.

   She is a little camera shy, but I did manage to photograph her the other night when she was roaming around. Unfortunately, the flash did scare her and she darted behind the print on the wall for the rest of the evening.

   However, she must have went home in the hours of darkness, as she appeared same time, same place the following evening.

Whatever you're watching, or doing this week enjoy!

 Care for the Lowest

 

I would not enter on my list of friends

Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,

Yet wanting sensibility the man

Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.

An inadvertent step may crush the snail

That crawls at evening in the public path;

But he that has humanity, forewarned,

Will tread aside, and let the reptile live.

The creeping vermin, loathsome to the sight,

And charged perhaps with venom, that intrudes,

A visitor welcome, into scenes

Sacred to neatness and repose, the alcove,

The chamber, or refectory, may die:

A necessary act incurs no blame.

Not so when, held within their proper bounds,

And guiltless of offense, they range the air,

Or take their pastime in the spacious field:

There they are privileged; and he that hunts

Or harms them there is guilty of  a wrong,

Disturbs the economy of nature's realm,

Who, when she formed, designed them on an abode.

The sum is this: If man's convenience, health, 

Or safety, interfere, his rights and claims

Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs.

Else they are all the meanest thing that are

As free to live, and to enjoy that life,

As God was free to form them at the first,

Who in his sovereign wisdom made them all.

Ye, therefore, who love mercy, teach your sons

 To love it too.


By William Cowper


Monday 29 January 2024

Inspiration from the Tedium



    The last few weeks I’ve been nursing a cold and annoying cough. The good news, for my partner is that I lost my voice for a few days. Of course, for every piece of  great news, there is a piece of not-so-good that seems to come along and smack you in the face. Yes, my voice has returned.

    Due to the tedium of spending all day at home and my eyes feeling a little tired, with screen time, I decided it was time to look through old notebooks and files.

    Some notebooks contain the blogs I've written over the last eleven and a half years. That's six hundred and twenty-five to be exact. I even came across a few surprises along the way, as to how I chose my subject matter in the early years.

    Now, my  completed and unfinished manuscripts, are contained in plastic folders. Some of the unfinished works have been printed out on paper and some not, I hold them all on my hard disk drives anyway. But, each file has a notebook enclosed and sometime these are also accompanied by sheets of lined A4. 

    These notebooks/A4 sheets contain outlines, descriptions of characters, plots and rough drafts for each of the chapters. All written in longhand, as unfortunately, shorthand is not something I ever managed to grasp.

    There was one of these unfinished works  that caught my eye dating back to 2015. I started to try and remember why I just never finished it. The answer is that in everything I write, I always require to know how it's going to end. This story I just could never think of an ending.

    I read through the notes and character outlines, call it inspiration or, boredom, the ending came to me in a flash. 

    So guess what I’m working on?

    Have a great week.

   

    

    

Monday 15 January 2024

Nature Sculpting the Landscape

 

    If you live in Tenerife or any of the principal Canary Islands, it's impossible to not realize that the landscape has been resculpted by volcanic explosions in years gone by.  


    The last one in Tenerife was November 18 1909. The following extract from a poem by William Cowper, although written about Mount Etna, Italy, is very appropriate and could have been written about Mount Teide.



 Slept unperceived, the mountain yet entire;

When, conscious of no danger from below, 

She towered a  cloud capped pyramid of snow,

No thunders shook with deep intestine sound

The blooming groves that girdled her around.

Her unctuous olives and her purple vines

Unfelt the fury of those bursting mines

The peasant’s hopes, and not in vain, assured,

In peace upon her sloping sides matured.

When on a day, like that of the last doom,

A conflagration laboring in her womb,

She teemed and heaved with an infernal birth,

That took the circling seas and solid earth.

Dark and voluminous the vapor rise,

And hang their horrors in the neighboring skies,

While through the Stygian veil, that blots the day,

In dazzling streaks the vivid lightning's play.

 But oh! what muse, and in what powers of song,

Can trace the torrent as it burns along?

Havoc and devastation in the van,

It marches over the prostrate works of man;

Vines, olives, herbage, forests disappear.


 

Heroism by William Cowper (1731-1800)