Name the professional athletes you respect the most and why.
To all intents and purposes the then plain Mary Peters was a true amateur athlete who worked at her day job while training to take on the World in what was then a very troubled Northern Ireland
Nowadays her amazing achievements,the pinnacle of which,was a Gold Medal in the Women’s Pentathlon at the Munich Olympics in 1972 could only be achieved by a professional full-time athlete.
Perhaps ,Mary herself knew this ,as in her adopted home of Northern Ireland she started a foundation that promotes sports talent by funding future stars,Rory McIlroy being one of the foundations alumni.
Nevertheless,as an amateur she was professional in her approach and as I remember a shining example to everyone of how to behave as a Sports Personality.
Surely the true meaning of a professional is bringing success to others and through her endeavours and no doubt in very difficult circumstances in Northern Ireland she has persisted in being a beacon of light and inspiration to everyone in whatever their field.
Relaxing and Breathing are so much part of my everyday life that I am actually a windbag.
Sometime in my development,I learned how not to breathe.My lungs would never fill and I became a tense,nervous child.
It took me to my adulthood to experience the magic of stopping and having a breather.
I suppose I must have picked up a book and read some advice on breathing properly and discovered the benefits, of feeling fresh air flowing deep into my lungs,
It’s what we are meant to do. It’s the basic building block to refresh and energise and make ready for whatever task lies ahead.
Savour it and enjoy it and take your time to breathe.
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
Tired
The one word I would remove from my regular spoken vocabulary is tired as I very often use it as an excuse to shut down whatever I’m feeling or to stop me having to make an effort.
We ,nowadays, are rarely tired.Being genuinely tired and being able to rest is a lovely feeling.
More often than not we use being tired as an excuse to avoid effort,sometimes the effort to keep a relationship alive or to complete a task we see as being repetitive and boring.
The joke is very much on me,because when I do whatever I’m supposed to do and think through the problem or challenge,I always feel good.
I will say to myself I’m too tired to do this,but inevitably I’m not,inevitably it’s just worth getting on and doing something,
I even did it while writing just now,while trying to think about what I really wanted to say.I closed my eyes and said to myself.
“It’s late,I’m tired”
When I closed my eyes,my brain wouldn’t let me sleep,so I continued.
Albert sat and stared out of the window of the Community Centre. He was thinking of everything that had happened over the last few weeks
“It would have been better if it had been gold.Gold he could have given away or sold,but the plants and soil,well that’s what caused the trouble.” He half mumbled to himself and continued to stare out of the window at the desolation.
He’d lost his garden. He and the others in the street where he used to live had been put up in temporary accommodation in the Centre due to the riots and vandalism.
The noise of the Police sirens had stopped and now it was up to the army to patrol the area.He watched as the men dressed in khaki combat gear walked around with their SLR rifles at the ready.
Ocassionally a troop carrier would trundle along,dropping off reinforcements and collecting any injured soldiers.For now it was quiet,but no one knew when it would start again.
The crop that Albert had grown in his garden,from seeds he had spent some years cross fertilising with and mixing and matching hybrids with his chosen origin plant
The origin plant he had obtained mail order from a Website called “The Diviner of Deighties”.The site specialised in unusual plants and the origin plant Albert chose was advertised as a therapeutic mallow,used for softening the skin and reducing wrinkles. That was the start of his quest for the Elixir of Life.
A quest that resulted in a final bloom,part orchid,rose,geranium and candelua and some herbs from ancient Egypt and some old spices from a remote region of the palmali hills in India called Kalmasi.
He wished now that he hadn’t bothered It had been for his old mum’s sake.Firstly to stop her ageing and latterly to help her live longer.He hadn’t wanted to lose her,but lose her he did.
Once people had found out his secret,that was the end.The ingredients and his land were taken from him.The Government did not want people living forever or at least that is what they had told him.
Albert knew his discovery would be kept for those who were privileged,maybe it wouldn’t be for just the super rich,but those that were chosen .The elite, those who were in power and who were born to be in charge.
He comforted himself with the fact that living forever was not all it was cracked up to be.He focused his eyes on the darkness,there were people out there,figures in the dark,hoping to get to his garden.Find the rare plants he had grown and take samples of the soil,which the spreading folklore had said were part of the Elixir,but which he knew to be absolute nonsense.
He had seen a programme on the Google box by Brian Cox,a famous scientist who had said that the world would end as a fireball and Albert had stopped taking the Elixir himself, it wasn’t natural,why live forever just to end up being blown apart in a fireball.It made no sense.
Rumours had circulated that there were spores in the soil which were self-generating and once you introduced them into the ecosystem they would perpetually produce the life giving Elixir
That was why the Government had told him,him and his neighbours would have to move.It was when the private JCB diggers arrived en masse and they destroyed his and the surrounding gardens that the army arrived to restore order.
Samples of soil stolen during those raids , were claimed to contain Elixir spores.The samples now sold for a fortune on the internet. All they were soil samples and heavens know where from.There were no spores.
The plants did exist however,but they’d all been put in quarantine by the Government.Albert would have to change his name and identity,once he escaped from the Community Centre where he and his neighbors had taken refuge.
There was though ,a concern that he would not be able to escape He could be captured and made to give up the formula for the Elixir.The Government were trying to stop this,but there was no way they could control the situation which had escalated beyond their control,despite their promises.
Suddenly,through the window Albert saw a flash of light. He knew what it meant.The plants were safe somewhere,but there were forces afield to make sure the Elixir formula would not get into anyone else’s hands.
Jeez,what a strange prompt.Funny that’s not one of my proclivities. I always, felt I was capable enough of handling situations so why hold a grudge when you can resolve something, anything in your life if you have the will.
Anyway, holding grudges is about as useful as trying to count grains of sand.The grains come in all shapes and sizes and there are so many to count that the numbers would be infinitesimal.What a waste of time.
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
Leaving home for some is a long process that happens over many years.There may be many preparations and arrangements to be made before the “never to return” point is met or agreed.Perhaps you only leave home when you cohabit for the first time or indeed get married.
Some people, like me ,have it thrust upon them. My sister was in the middle of doing her PhD and couldn’t bear to have me around.My dad had been dead about two years and my sister had bought a house with my mum’s money with the idea that we would all live together,but it proved impossible.
Basically she told my mum that I would have to live somewhere else.
So I got a summer job on an island as a barmaid and never returned home.There was sea and a ferry between me and my old home. All in all it was probably about a hundred miles.
It was a very different life and when I finished my summer job ,I went to University and lived in digs and on graduation moved to Birmingham.
All the time moving further away from my old home,never to return.My mum, God bless her soul always wanted me to go back,but I never would; and now; that old home seems a million miles away.A piece of history.A place that used to exist and you can’t get any farther than that.
I think I ended up at the Ideal Home Exhibition in London by accident one time.Don’t ask me how.I spent most of my time at the cookery demonstrations which is telling.
Bricks and Mortar are not my thing, my only care about cladding is that it’s safe and fireproof and my preference is for a wildlife garden.Don’t care for wallpaper or fancy sofas.
Caravans are ideal homes as you get a lot of fresh air and you can be located in any area of natural outstanding beauty with a decent campsite
Oh dear have I got this wrong,should I be talking about how many bedrooms and bathrooms I need and location and house valuations.The size of my garage whether it be double and if it is automated and if I need security gates and webcams.
Yusuf Islam wrote many great songs and one of those is Father and Son.It brings a tear to my eye every time I hear it. It is a tear of joy generated by a sad experience.
My father once had a terrible fight with one of my brothers.He threw him down the stairs.I was about fourteen and in my bedroom and heard the shouting and the banging on the thin cardboard like walls.
In truth my father was right to engage with his son, my brother was being led astray and was staying out all night,two of his friends had recently died of drug overdoses. So my father was right to be concerned.
It’s not for me to say his confrontation with my brother was the wrong way to go about solving the situation ,but at the time it felt wrong and indeed frightening . Although thankfully no one was hurt.
This line from Father and Son brings a tear to my eye every time I hear it. Over many years it has turned from a tear of sorrow to a tear of joy.
“Oh how can I try to explain….cause when I do he turns away again”
It’s the fact my dad was trying to save his son and doing the best he could and that’s what makes me now cry tears of joy.
Nothing in life is simple or straight forward,we can only do the best we can to make things better.
Father and Son will always be a special song to me.
thenotsomightyom 