The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

a process of evolution?
00:27 Aug 31 2010
Times Read: 833

Come Bank Holiday Monday nothing changed in our home, we still got up before nine and began the housework. Later, as I was in the garden, a lady passed by with her little spaniel, who used to stop and chat with my Mum, when she was in the garden, who asked me how my Mother was. That’d stopped me in my tracks somewhat.



I had explained that she died, after waiting twenty-six hours to be seen to at Arrowe Park Hospital. And, I’d be pleased, if that’s the right word, that for a change I could tell the story of how she died without bursting into tears, which I have done, on so many occasions.



As Dad was in the back garden, cleaning the gutters on the garage, I’d made a point of saying to him, “Don’t take your jumper off, please?” Every time he takes his jumper off, a nice day becomes a grey day, often with rain.



In the afternoon I went a walk to Raby Mere; and on my return I made the ‘tea’ I had promised Dad. As it was, it was coffee.



“I don’t know why I feel tired?” He had said, “I’ve only done the housework, painted the table and gate and…” And, that’s why he’d been tired.



As we’d drunk our drinks I’d told him of the lay I’d been speaking to earlier. She had told me I’d been lucky to have my Mother as long as I had. I’d made a point of reminding Dad how lucky Mum had been in those last few weeks herself; she’d had her night out with ‘the girls’, and, albeit unconscious, stayed alive long enough for Dad to hold her hand and, kiss her on the forehead ‘goodbye’, before she had died.



I’d watched a little of ‘the Hills Have Eyes 2’, to relax for twenty minutes or so, then it was time to chop up the onion and, make the gravy for our evening meal, mince with onions.



As I had cut the onion and garlic, Dad had decided to water the hedge at the back, where the trees at the back draw all the water from it.



“Are they starting to make your eyes water yet?” Had led to a brief discussion on how eyes were formed, as a process of evolution.

...maidens in the kitchen.
23:28 Aug 29 2010
Times Read: 841

I went to bed late, after a burglar alarm went off and I’d gone out to checksee, knife in hand: though I swear down I don’t know what I’d do if I met someone.



As it was, it wasn’t next-door, but the house across the way. The wind has been that fierce, it had carried the sound, to me; it had also brought to my ear, some Beatles music, from across the river, as Saturday’s events were winding down.



I woke up Sunday morning to a grey sky day, with intermittent showers, that had my Fathers washing handing on maidens in the kitchen.



Dad was sitting there looking at the Radio Times and a picture of Jedward, saying, “An that’s the state of television today.” And who can deny that he might be right, when that pair of non-entities get on television, ‘let loose’ indeed!



After a plodaroud morning and, making the beds, I did some writing, before going to going into the garden, as distraction: Karl was house-sitting lots of kids, so no visiting for me…

Hawkman and apple crumble
15:28 Aug 28 2010
Times Read: 845

Rain fell on the window Saturday morning as on the radio ‘Twenty Four Hours From Tulsa’ played and I looked up from one laptop monitor, to the other where something interesting played and I wondered idly, about venturing out, for a stamp, or three.



“Who’d have thought,” quoth I, “that it could be so pleasant on the Friday and then, this.” Then again, this was The Mathew Street Festival Weekend, so it had to rain.



Aye, Friday was good, after doing the shopping that is: I had gone a walk, taking the annoying left knee with me.



Then come later, I’d watched a story from Smallville that worked well as a film, that utilised character from the fifties and sixties, that I knew well, The Justice Society of America and there’d been Doctor Fate and The Star Spangled Kid and, Hawkman, played well by Michael Shanks who played Daniel Jackson in Stargate.



It had been a good story, well told: episode eleven from series nine and to be recommended, I think.



And, as it was the Mathew Street this weekend and, so not wanting to be called John Lennon, I went to the Mere, on a blue-sky fluffy day, with showers and sat on the wall, people watching. I went home to make apple crumble [to be eaten with hot custard]

... every hour, of every day.
16:28 Aug 25 2010
Times Read: 858

On Monday, after housework, while looking around the house for more jobs to do, before I went on the PC, Dad told me that the cat that been toileting on my potatoes had left another deposit, a mouse.



Before I went shopping, for an alternative to Cif, which the power spray, I decided to bury it, as Dad had not: so I went out and crouching low discovered that the mouse was in fact a Harvest Mouse, which looked intact.



I buried it and, said a few words, as you would.



Later, Michael called and we got watching True Blood 3:10 & Eureka 4:07 and, as he’s done before, he had intimated his need, rather than ask.



I had easily found the source of his pain and, manipulated to give ease; though his posture will remain the same, in that chair, thus the problem will persist.



But, the problem was alleviated, for now.



And, not for the first time did I find myself idly musing, that I have still not found anyone, who can massage me as well as I have done those I have.



Though was an issue though: I realised I’d missed a doctor’s appointment. And not is it it a big deal to me, it’s a big deal to my pocket, my Father told me.



Either way I wasn’t happy about it and went to bed early, with the prospect of dealing with the problem next morning.



I do not practise avoidance of issues, except when it’s real personal, or a big deal and dealing with grief and the pain of arthritis, is taking its toll. Well, that and other issues and, I’m feeling like a taut spring, ready to uncoil wildly, every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day.

cheese 'n tomato and a Flash
00:50 Aug 24 2010
Times Read: 862

A thousand years ago, or in 1992 when I was younger than I am now, I was at Liscard Hall doing Reprographics.

Come lunch-time I went upstairs with all the other students eating in and got my red Hovis butty-box out.

I sat and got my sandwiches and ate one, then the slim blonde swinging her legs on the stage stepped down and reached over and nicked my sandwich.

Well, she acquired it.

Then she’d sat back and munching it, she grinned.

“Cheese ‘n tomato…”

“Yes…”

“Nice. Who made it?”

“My Mum,” I’d told her.

“Well, your Mum makes good sandwiches,” she’d told me, with a grin.

Well compliment my Mum and you’re in my good books.



And, that’s how Vicky and I became friends, through a cheese sandwich.



Well on Saturday I went a walk: which according to Google was 1.8 miles from Rock Ferry Station. Well, Google was either wrong, or I’m no gauge of distance. Whichever it was, I walked for miles it seemed, till I got to The Saddle, where Pete and Vicky’s wedding reception was.



I had been remonstrating with myself much of the walk, for refusing the operation on my knee, yet that said, my reservations about having it are specific: I don’t want to go on the sick. And what’s more, if and it’s a big ‘if’, if I had it, I’d probably need it again in another ten years.



But, it’d been a good evening, for me: and thanks to an understanding young buck, I’d got a lift home, which the left knee really appreciated.



I woke up at six, on my bed, still dressed. So I got undressed and went to bed. When I’d finally risen, with a very fluffy head. So gardening was a required necessity.



Come the afternoon, I went to Karl’s with a dying USB; that lasted long enough to get some new shows: which brings me to my treat to me. After tea, I went trawling. And I’d managed to acquire what I wanted – the pilot episode of The Flash, from 1990



It’d been what the doctor ordered and, I went to bed smiling: damn good show.

And, Paul Anka sang ‘The Longest Day.’
15:37 Aug 21 2010
Times Read: 869




I was up and dressed smart, to collect my pennies then goto the Azda with Dad; and didn’t expect him to have the little stud in the door still depressed as I tried to open the passenger door to the car in the red car in the drive.



As typical, for him, Dad had depressed the brake with his foot, as he’d been ready for the off, so not been using the handbrake: and as he leaned over, to open the door his foot must’ve come off the brake pedal and the inevitable happened.



The car slowly rolled forward and, crashed into the locked gates, buckling them, quite badly. Well, obviously nothing could be done there and then. So we had gone ‘t shops, then as we had taken the gate off, while still dressed in my smart duds.



I had put the shopping away, as Dad had begun to figure out his next move.



Three hours later, I went travelling, the gate as straight as a gate needs to be, to shut and, open safely.



The day was blue-sky blustery perfection, the wind caressing my flesh as I walked.



I returned to cook a lot of carrots, with onion; as the carrots ‘just had to go’, ‘n then later watched new ‘True-Blood’ and ‘Warehouse 13’ before seeing Mike out the working gate, which I locked with a wide smile: ‘It had been the longest day.’

... compassionate Liverpool city council!?!
01:16 Aug 20 2010
Times Read: 878

Come the end of an exhausting wet evening, I was left miffed beyond belief to hear the news that one of our customers had imparted to me. Now, this fellow is as curious as I am [read ‘nosey’] and, when he found himself at a council meeting with expansive buffet and Lord Mayor in attendance, he stuck around, ‘to get the gen.’



It seems that your council, in its infinite wisdom, had decided that projects like the one I work on every week, for the last ten years, or so, [providing a hot meal] are not going to be ‘encouraged’ [read funded] as they do little to encourage the homeless.



‘And, that perhaps the money provided by not funding can provide extra police to…’



[[“…keep the homeless out of sight,” I wonder??]]



Roger, all we do, is to provide a hot meal, to those in need.



The thing is, we’re independent of such funding; yet, the extra health checks and s other assorted checks that are now being requested, for voluntary projects, may shut the rest of us.



And, with greater unemployment within the public sector thanks to cuts, we’ll soon see more at the door, to join the Poles and women, who had started joining our regular customers, for a hot meal.



All I can say, hearing my customers news, is that I’m pleased that I can get the train back over the water, after cooking and, giving meals to the Liverpool homeless; as it occurs to me, that if that meetings recommendations are followed through to their conclusion, as I expect, “there is little compassion in Liverpool City Council’.



Furthermore, I look forward to the day, when each and everyone of them is in need of services like that I work in: but through their cuts, will no longer be there, for them.

‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ ~ a damn fine choice indeed.
16:13 Aug 19 2010
Times Read: 881

Come Thursday morning the sun was back out and, the showers that we’ve ‘enjoyed’ of late had gone: and I sat typing after doing my half of the housework.



I was still in padaround mode, after a pleasant evening out at the pictures with Karl.

We’d gone to see ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’.



I don’t think a film has ever been made before, till now, based on a tune in a film, as this film had been: Fantasia & The Sword In The Stone.



Now Nicholas Cage is said to be an actor who some like and others loathe. And I’ve heard that he’s making allsorts of films, because of tax issues.



Personally I am chuffed to little mint-balls, that the fellow makes the films he does: Leaving Las-Vega, Ghost-rider, Kick-Ass and now, ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’.



I had been enamoured with his performance in both Kick-Ass as ‘Big Daddy’ and previously Ghost-Rider as Johnny blaze’ the titular hero, so this film had been on my ‘short-list’.



As the train for Bromborough rolled in and, Karl saw me off at Birkenhead Central, I had said to him; “Good choice Karl, who’s was it?”



And, with a grin he’d replied, “It’d been the only choice we had.”



No Piranha, no Expendables and, I had wanted to go to the pictures. So yes, although it had been the only choice we’d had, it had still been a damn fine choice indeed.

23:27
23:43 Aug 17 2010
Times Read: 886

I had got terribly stoned watching eureka and warehouse 13, then after seeing Mike out, nearly stood on a shadow which moved and then, when I went to kick it, the shape had rolled into a ball, by the gate and the back door. and recalling the thousands of fleas I had associated with picking one up, last time, I had gone in to tell me Dad. He just looked up from the couch and said, "Nature will take it's course."



Well, needless to say, I looked out the back door awhile later: and the hedgehog had gone.

'O-boy' .. Sam Beckett said.
23:33 Aug 17 2010
Times Read: 888

the visual with the music through the headphone, impacting on my eardrums just then.. was awesome.



hell's teeth, what the frell am I listening to ... ? ah yes, the prisoner sound track' ? I think... Uhuh.. O-boy, this'll be fun... !

...a flatterer
11:48 Aug 17 2010
Times Read: 890

“Sometimes, just sometimes, it is far easier to give a compliment, than to receive one. Yet once someone learns to receive graciously, that warm feeling of satisfaction gleamed from the other persons compliment can feel like, all your holiday’s rolled into one. So it was I went to bed early Monday morning feeling replete; after reading the following…”





On 23:56:41 Aug 15 2010 (-0 GMT) ****************** wrote:



I envy your magic with words...

such a gift thank you for sharing your artistory



On 23:59:37 Aug 15 2010 (-0 GMT) Angelus wrote:



Now where on Earth did that come from? Erm, thank you...



On 00:03:09 Aug 16 2010 (-0 GMT) ****************** wrote:



I was reading your journal Mr wordwizard lol



On 00:04:40 Aug 16 2010 (-0 GMT) Angelus wrote:



that's Joli who's good. not me. I'll get there one day.

though, I like the last poem up.. someone fed me the whole thing.. it was, gifted.



On 00:07:00 Aug 16 2010 (-0 GMT) ****************** wrote:



most of the stuff in your journal you have written..... right? who is joli?



On 00:10:08 Aug 16 2010 (-0 GMT) Angelus wrote:



I have written all, bar that I acknowledge, like the stuff LDR wrote with me.. the story: I started, she carried on.



[[I proof-read, for others, so I think that's okay.]]



Erm, 'Silvertongue' was response to a message.



Aye, it's all mine.



Turns out my Pseudonym is on more websites than I am.



On 00:12:25 Aug 16 2010 (-0 GMT) ****************** wrote:



I still say you have a lovely way with words. you are a silvertongued devil lol



On 00:13:32 Aug 16 2010 (-0 GMT) Angelus wrote:



and you Ma'am, are a flatterer.

no money for the weekend..
16:25 Aug 14 2010
Times Read: 900

Saturday did not go well. I’d had a bad night and had a bad gut: but needed coin, so I left the house and walked to the village, to goto the Cheshire and I was feeling rotten. What’s worse was that when I got there, the church bell was ringing the Noon bell and, the Cheshire was closed – so no money for the weekend..



I returned home, to pushish my back and gut, with edging lawns, cleaning sills and weeding; followed by a much needed hot bath...

Manananananh.
23:54 Aug 13 2010
Times Read: 903

I liked Janice.



and



I should be writing my ... ARGH!

.. on a showery day.
13:50 Aug 12 2010
Times Read: 914

.. just got back from hospital: on a showery day.



Transpires that they'll scrape the joint: but I probably won't be able to put my legs round my neck, or do full-lotus, so I'm going to learn to live with it.



A young man just missed me on my way home, when I crossed the road, then got stroppy with me when I looked at him askance.

Big Brother is here and resides in England.
12:53 Aug 11 2010
Times Read: 916

Tuesday evening Mike and I sat down to chill and, watching the latest ‘Eureka’, I realised it was the cross-over episode Michael had emailed me about. Then we had watched ‘Warehouse 13’ and I regretted watching them in that order, as it spoiled the continuity of the story arc.



As it was, once Mike had gone, I popped the disc in again and it came on autoplay, in the right order. So, if I’d left it to autoplay, we’d have got to see it in the right order.



Well, that’s what had been suggested, I think.





While on the net, I ended up having to verify, and then change my password, in my Yahoo account, through my gmail account. All very incestuous. And this on a day when the government announce that they’ll be using a third party agency, to spy on claimants, fished from ‘the system.’



Big Brother is here and resides in England.

If boring was ...
13:01 Aug 10 2010
Times Read: 922

Don’t you just love BT’s billing system?



Right now, I've had a bad case of irritable father syndrome.



If boring was a commodity, I'd buy some.

Roger's Baby Rests and Cameron damages.
12:30 Aug 08 2010
Times Read: 928

Roger, who runs the project, had decided we were taking a week off, ‘for summer.’

And that had left me feeling lost, wondering what I’d be doing for the evening. As it was I found plenty to do which had surprised me, as my voluntary work has become so very much a part of my life. Then I went to bed before twelve and early for me, on Friday after Mike, ‘True Blood’ 4:07 and ‘The Crazies’. Then I woke the second time at nearly at 11:00 Saturday morning, with Dad returning from his expedition out, for a washer shortly later, muttering through his frustration: “Modern day is useless.” And, who can deny the veracity of such a statement, particularly when an essential one-inch stop-tap hard rubber washer seems unavailable.



Then as I’m readying my bath as the light rain turned to sun; Ian my Dad’s ‘other son’ turned up, asking “Why’s the back door open?” He then went out with my Father, who seemed a little less irascible, as the search for the washer continued.



And, I heard the fellow on the radio promoting Liverpool Pride. One of his reasons for the festival was inclusion. That said, why do so many of ‘them’ segregate themselves, and then promote an event such as that on the basis of inclusion?



Needless to say, as I finished typing, I looked out my window, to see dark clouds moving overhead once again.



Dad had returned home with a washer, although not the hard rubber he wanted: “It won’t be as good as they used to be…” And truth be told, he’d probably right.



Later episode eight of series four of ‘Burn Notice’ kept me sane, as I darned a pair of socks, which are needed for the boots I wear so much.



Before bed, Dad was watching a documentary that included footage of the heavy-handed tactics the police used on the miners during the eighties: and, as I stopped to watch, I found myself wondering how long it will be till that sort of thing will happen again here, with the austerity measure that not-so pseudo Thatcherite Cameron is pushing through, regardless of the damage he is doing.

... on the edge?
01:47 Aug 05 2010
Times Read: 937

Tuesday was not one of my better days. I had read of a woman in court for stabbing her boyfriend in the eye with her stiletto and embedding it in his brain; I saw an article about a soldier who had fought in Afghanistan killed by a blow from a boxer and, he got five years; and I walked to sign-on.



On the journey both my knees started to ache, badstyle. Needless to say, the walk home really got to me.



Then after Mike had left, after we’d watched ‘Eureka’ and ‘Warehouse 13’ Dad began on me; just as if he were looking for an argument.



Then again, in part, I understood: the bill for broadband was the reason: that and the fact that that I have to many items running from the gang, in the backroom. And that argument could’ve led to blows, instead of the compromise I found, eventually.



Heck, the way it had been going, it was compromise, or no more Internet.



Aye, Tuesday was not one of my better days.



Then I woke on Wednesday morning emotionally drained. I never have argued well, not with Debbie, nor Tina; and it had been my Mother who had been the referee for Dad and myself.



I need someone to communicate with and it’s oh-so difficult with someone missing that referee, who has a hearing problem that makes that communication even harder.



So a walk, on a warn day, ‘neath a grey sky, in light rain, to buy some Micropore and margarine. Sometimes my walks and my writing are my only way of being me and, finding some form of relaxation.



Other than that, I’m a perpetually coiled spring, under control: whilst at the same time my Father will sit and silently dwell on his problems, or mine and, eventually it’ll all come out, just like Tuesday night.



All in all, we’re poles apart, whilst being too similar in other ways.



As it is, there’s always a catalyst to an uncontrolled event. And gawd, if I didn’t have my outlet, my writing, I think I’d go nuts: seriously so. Nowadays, I feel like I’m on the edge, pretty well all the time.



But, I know I need something special, to do. And, it’s not distraction I need; it’s something… something I don’t know of, yet.

Karls, toy's and 'Haven'.
02:50 Aug 03 2010
Times Read: 943

I went to Karl’s on Sunday and we spent so long working on my new toy, that I got home a little late for tea, [having left some batteries on charge, “not a good move.”]



I spent the evening writing and have produced some work I’m really proud of.



**



Calm down Neil. {WAH!} Dad doesn’t like the pigeon’s that have decided to inhabit the area around our garden. He says it wakes him up in the morning. So he’s decided to take down the feeder in the back, that we’d put up to attract the smaller birds. And, it’s such a pity that he’s decided to do that, as I like those little birds: so it irked me badstyle watching him taking it down.



In defence of his actions, he says the Blackbirds may return: I doubt it.





**



The series ‘Haven’, which I’d thought to be a pure clone of ‘Eureka’, has turned out to be a little more than I’d thought to be a pure clone, is more than that, it seems.



At one point of episode three I got goose-bumps, from a sequence that was both strange and touching, at the same time. I guess that’s when I decided I like it.



The show has good characters, beautiful scenery and, a story arc that has me gripped. The only pity is that it was based on a story by Stephen King, whose writing I very often dislike, a great deal.

Well, that’s politics...
03:36 Aug 01 2010
Times Read: 895

Come Saturday morning, the middle-finger of my right hand was back to its normal usage, besides a little stiffness, much to my pleasure.



And then, after I’d cleaned my bedroom of any traces of nicotine [for now] my Father showed me the power-pack the fellow next-door had been working on for me.



Unfortunately, the laptop didn’t like it, it seemed; and so my Dad took it apart and Mr. Fixit had got to work, with solder.



When it connected up well and the new machine began to appreciate power, my Father muttered, “If the electrician can’t do it, the woodworker can.’



‘bout said it, didn’t it!?!



When the neighbour and her partner, ‘the electrician’, asked of the machine, I’d said all was well, when asked.



When I told my Dad of what had happened, he convinced me not to say that his fix had been the one that had finished the job off successfully.



Then after my weeding, I went for a walk for tobacco before making the tea with Dad and, on the way ‘the electrician’ drove passed with the neighbour in his grey-blue jag and the fellow waved, with a broad smile.



He’d never done that before and, often seems unapproachable.



I told my Father what happened on my return and, with a half-smile, he pronounced, “Well, that’s politics.”



And I guess, as too often happens, he was right.