What change, big or small, would you like your blog to make in the world?
I hope my blog makes people not follow the crowd and to think independently and thoughtfully to make things better for themselves and others.

What change, big or small, would you like your blog to make in the world?
I hope my blog makes people not follow the crowd and to think independently and thoughtfully to make things better for themselves and others.

Describe your life in an alternate universe.
I realise I have always lived in an alternative universe.
My grandmother on my mother’s side(Nanny),once said I was like Pollyanna from a T .V series that was running in Ireland at the time.Even at five years old I always tried to see the best in everything and to see the bright side.
Nanny must have known what my parents were going through,my dad losing his job and the family’s lovely house in Dublin and having to go and start again living in a horrible tenement flat in Glasgow with my dad’s stepfather.
Their little four year old daughter ,oblivious to the downward spiral and just happy to be cared for and looked after by dedicated parents.Even with everything going on the seven of us,mum,dad,three brothers and two sisters were a cohesive unit.
I suppose that was how I grew up always believing that there was a possibility for a happy ending and if not then it was necessary to stay positive and make the best of the situation.
So where does my alternative universe fit into my previously described start in life?
Well I am social and positive.My alternative universe is the people I meet in my daily life who constantly moan about everything.
That alternative Universe one that I have to visit and be present in,but I am so glad to remove myself from it when the time comes and to settle back to my pretty otherworldly happy place which is my true Universe.
My true Universe is where perspective and fulfillment is.
The alternative moaning Universe is dire,but exists with its only purpose to make me miserable.I have a bucket full of empathy but it is finite ,just like energy is not in infinite supply and we have to conserve it.
Moaning,it seems is infinite and has its own scientific rule to represent endlessness and the fact it will never stop.So by definition moaning exists in a Universe far beyond what us Humans will ever understand.
I discovered it and I am naming it the Spleen Vent Universe.
In summary I’m currently in my true Universe and will at some point will visit Spleen Vent Universe again ,but will do so with my bucket of empathy refilled and my batteries recharged.

What’s the most money you’ve ever spent on a meal? Was it worth it?
It’s so long ago that I experienced pleasure out of eating out that I honestly cannot remember what I would have spent money on
I can only say there have been more disasters and let downs than great experiences. I love cooking and cookery books,and really will try anything in a restaurant,but always with the thought of making it myself.
Also,there are so many ways to make healthy flavoursome food,but a chef in a restaurant has to appeal to all of their clientele,so surely there is a compromise on flavour and ingredients?
Now Desserts,that is a different matter,health be damned,I want sweet and sticky and would pay a fortune,well maybe twenty pounds sterling for the ultimate sticky toffee pudding. I am hopeful one day that this delectable dessert will come my way and that I will be able to afford it.

Well I’m not 65 so of course , but the above, well yes it applies to me. I’m scared to leave work, it gives me an anchor. I suspect the 93 year old paperboy in Abergavenny who cycles around hills and valleys delivering papers to Octogenarian’s feels the same way. Though he probably feels closer to having wings on his shoulders than an anchor around his neck.
We all like to feel valued; and what makes you feel more valued than someone paying you to do something .
So the over 65’s hang on in there, let’s face it modern work is unpalatable, if you are old enough to remember when coal mining was an industry in Britain you are old enough to appreciate that working with a group of unmotivated youngsters who all want to be managers in the next ten minutes, but who don’t want really want to do any work then you see that the stalwart older person who realises this work is a doddle is going to shine over the youngsters.

Added to that the crazy law that pays more for the old codger doing the same work as an 18 year old, I think it’s 2 or 3 sterling pounds an hour which is crazy as far as I can see and if they are 17 then it’s even less and they can’t even vote against it. Life is just plain unfair. Boo Hoo
Yet those of us who have been around a long time take it all in our very slow stride and the bosses like us because we don’t have boyfriend or girlfriend problems, aren’t on our mobile phones all the time, aren’t after the bosses job, are polite and not sullen, don’t use the work computer for searching for other jobs and don’t need a size zero uniform.
Yes , we over 65’s have our advantages and we intend to use them as long as it suits us
©GeraldineBanksJuly2024
The hypothesis that life exists elsewhere in the solar system is hard to disagree with. Why should planet Earth be the only planet that has developed into what we regard as a sophisticated society? While there is disagreement on our level of sophistication and civilisation, we have evolved to be what we are today, and indeed this story; though a fiction describes a society that develops, through an embryonic incident in a way that addresses our very often threatening and histrionic approach to our reproductive organs and their role in society.
You laugh, sex as a weapon, but it is and it’s used as an expression of control, not just by organised religion but by all levels of Society where sex is used to shame people or indeed an excuse to put people to trial and kill them. Perhaps, there is a better way and hopefully my story will explore those possibilities .

Planet Organtalia exists in a far away universe, it has a climate like Earth and has developed a complex society just like Earth. It has large cities and lots of ocean, there are places on it that stay undiscovered and places of learning in big cities, with anthropologists and archaeologists who regularly discuss the benefits of leaving well enough alone when it comes to indigenous people in remote areas, and also who have studied in depth the origin of society’s development, looking at ritual sites and the behaviours of indigenous people. This has been critical to learning how Organtalia Society can achieve the best for all of it’s inhabitants.
What began in the embryo, has been used to advantage, having your reproductive organs visible on your head and your vocal cords in your waste producing organs can have it’s advantages.

All Organtalia,s people have one thing in common. Their genitalia are external and as they have developed as bipeds their sexual organs, be they women or men are on their heads , they breath through a mouth in their chest and they have super sensors around their body which act as their eyes, ears and nose. They communicate language through orifices located at the top of their legs that they use for urination and defecation The language expresses thoughts and opinions as sophisticated as anything on Earth, but which to an Earthling would sound ridiculous, it’s basically a Morse Code of farting and squelching.
It’s a fact that Organtalia’s embryonic development was very different from Earth and as a result they have developed a completely different status quo. For example , there is no such thing as good looks, to all intents and purposes , penises on men and vaginas on women are very similar structures in each male and female gender. So physical attraction and racial differentiation is effectively redundant. There is little point in wearing make up or even choosing a different hair style when you have a sexual organ on your head. There is a slight variation in in colour or size, but everyone’s appearance on Organtalia is effectively the same, everyone does look very like each other.
For some people on our Earth, that is boring and the industry that has grown around “being attractive”, which is invasive in everything we do on Earth, even going to a job interview at a lowly Saturday job. The attractive person has a better chance than the unattractive person. It’s not what you say, it’s how you look. The “Hollywood Mentality” has infiltrated all areas of Society .

But it isn’t boring on Organtalia, having their most tactile and sensitive organs on the top of their heads actually leads to behaviours that encourage healthy interaction at all levels of society and at all ages and in all situations be it work or play. There is no sexual violence, from babyhood to adulthood, the pleasure and sensation of interacting with those around them is titillating, but most definitely not abusive. It is pretty orgasmic.
Organtalia’s people greet each other by rubbing their heads together, this means their meetings are always most pleasurable and in effect produce a bond in society that reduces violent tendencies and this titillation is regarded as an enhancement to daily life.
Early on in Organtalia’s societal development,( well actually in cave dwelling days), where primitive drawings on cave walls show that it was recognised that although the titillation and interaction had benefits, the organs were also required for reproduction.
This had more serious implications and as the sexual act of intercourse to achieve sperm transferral was discovered by primitive people to be quite traumatic or even dangerous for the participants. Rituals were developed early on to help with the process.
Of course in the early days it was trial and error and mistakes were made by the pre-historic Organtalian’s. They were confused about the stimulus they experienced when interacting with one another, this confusion was expressed in the cave drawings which caused great interest among the psycho-sexual anthropologists. Studies show that they adapted and realised that successful procreation only occurred when the sexual organs were mature and that when the female had started menstruating and that intercourse was not indeed necessary in social interaction.
Homosexual relations were depicted on the cave drawings and these were successful as different orifices were used for intercourse; these ways were indeed safer than reproduction and developed in society to such an extent that the percentage of mature adult mixed sexual liaisons was the same as mature adult same sex liaisons in Modern Society. The role in society of same sex relations became important as an emotional and stable part of Organtalia’s society.
Female menstruation was indeed altogether another challenge. In primitive societies it had been accepted that a woman would restrict her social activities during menstruation and that public baths and washing areas would be available, or indeed washing in a stream for the lesser well off.
With the onset of the need for women to play a greater role in society , to work and to contribute economically to progress, medicines were developed to control menstruation and indeed stop it when necessary, so it did not become an impediment to a woman participating fully in society.
Once this was established; the onset of puberty and the erratic growth of hair on the head was taken as a sign that once partners were willing; that procreation was to be encouraged. This indeed was practical, as the purpose of the rather complex method of impregnation was to produce progeny for the planet.
The need to produce progeny had been part of the early primitives group decision and ritual ceremonies were instigated for everyone to recognise the importance of the process and its safety for the protagonists. Sound familiar? Like the coming of age ceremonies for young boys in Africa and Australia on Earth. These of course were of great interest to the anthropologists. Primitive Organtellian’s would have found the procedure of genital mutilation, practiced by some on Earth totally mystifying. What is the role of that they would have wondered?
For modern Organtallian’s, procreation is a very sophisticated process. A medical and a thorough explanation of the process by medical staff is mandatory. The social interaction with each other , where penises and vaginas were continually titillating each other in a playful and sensitive manner was so pleasurable. For mature Organtellian’s ,it was quite a leap of faith to engage in what initially to them seemed a repugnant process. A process that was historically proven to harm the neck muscles, the spine and indeed in some instances cause fatalities.
There were diagrams and talks from medical staff that described that the first intercourse involved some pain, bruising and bleeding and that they would be encouraged to take some time out of their busy lives and enjoy the benefits of the Government Sex Hotels which had specially designed beds, swimming pools and massage that would make the process so much more enjoyable. There would also be support nurses for those who became overwhelmed by the process.
There certainly was a choice for Orgentalians, society was in a good place, there were enough couples willing to take the plunge and procreate and use the well resourced facilities to make sure a successful outcome. There was no pressure to have babies, and there were also information and advice available for same sex couples who had decided that they wanted to have children.

The birth of a new baby in itself was very much celebrated by everyone. But the birth itself was very much a private matter, with only friends of family allowed to attend. The arrival of a small infant out of a head required medical intervention, particularly to make sure that the birth giver was able to breathe and did not suffer loss of blood or oxygen. The success rate was high, about 90%, but there were risks involved for the mother and the baby.
In summary Organtallian Society, has developed successfully. There is a cohesive force field of tactile communication that seems to bond all of the various societies and countries within the planet. Sex is not an issue.
Verbal communication through defecation and urinary organs, in other words ” that person is talking through their asshole” is not regarded as an insult. Language used in broadcasting and debating political issues, is sophisticated and all the normal conflicts and legal disagreements are dealt with, through government debate chambers. There are no wars, because it’s hard to get upset at someone who is farting and squelching at you. There is no Celebrity Culture or prejudice, because people look the same and always have a tactile pleasure in each other’s company. Sometimes words are not necessary and in Organtallia’s society, they often aren’t.
Filed under Short Stories
Trees; Lavender; Sun, Rain; All Life Forms ; Human Humour ; Animal Humour ; Human Hugs ; My dog getting excited when I get home ; Writing; Cleanliness, Showers ; Fresh Pyjamas, Slippers ; Tee-shirts ; Freedom ; Cooking Pots ; My computer(PC) ;My Phone(mobile) ;Being driven in a car ; Non-polluting public transport ; Quiet roads ; Growing plants and vegetables ; Digging the soil ; Using my dibber ; Understanding another person’s point of view; Dancing in the kitchen with my blue-tooth headphones on; watching my dog paddle in a stream ; fair and positive working conditions; communicating, ability to count to 30.😊

Here is an exert from a talk given to Teachers by the writer James Baldwin, I couldn’t but help think of the situation in Palestine when I read it. I don’t think the World has moved much since 1963 , or has it indeed gone backwards?
“It is inconceivable that a sovereign people should continue, as we do so abjectly, to say, “I can’t do anything about it. It’s the government.” The government is the creation of the people. It is responsible to the people. And the people are responsible for it. No American has the right to allow the present government to say, when Negro children are being bombed and hosed and shot and beaten all over the Deep South, that there is nothing we can do about it. There must have been a day in this country’s life when the bombing of the children in Sunday School would have created a public uproar and endangered the life of a Governor Wallace. It happened here and there was no public uproar.”
James Baldwin 1963

Filed under Short Stories
On our visit to the Wye Valley Youth Hostel,we came across Goodrich and it’s Castle.Which is about 20 minutes from the Hostel.
We couldn’t book into the accommodation until 5pm and we hadn’t had any lunch ,so we stopped at Godric’s Cafe(attached to the castle) and parked the car in the Castle Car park,which is £3 for all day.
After refreshments,we decided to walk around the village.The buildings are pretty and well maintained. We followed the pedestrian path and turned towards the Church.

To get to the church, we passed by the school and took a fairly steep path up to the gates to the entrance to the graveyard.
When we arrived , we realised there was a church function on.It seemed pretty casual,so we didn’t feel we were intruding, and we walked around taking in the views and reading the odd gravestone that caught our attention.

We meandered back to the Car Park,we would have liked to have seen more of the village,but we were getting close to booking in at the hostel.We did however decide that the next day,before heading home,we would visit Goodrich Castle,which is looked after by English Heritage.Pleased to say they welcome dogs.
The next day ,we parked up and bought two tickets to go to the castle.

Firstly,I was surprised that the first part of the castle was called the Barbican. It was the area where visitors were met by the porter and basically depending on their status or if they were expected was where they would wait and see if they could enter the castle.It had open latrines into the moat,and I believe the porter would bring them refreshments.So it had some creature comforts.
The entrance to the actual castle was well fortified with various defence mechanisms.

The Castle itself changed hands a number of times in various seiges, so the defences didn’t achieve their aim.During the English Civil War ,the Parliamentarians managed to steal 80 horses from the Castle in a raid,the remnants of the stable can be seen at the level of the moat,but no one is quite sure how they managed to get the horses their in the first place.

Surrounding the moat, there are areas of stone from which the stone was hewn to build and rebuild the castle. Some of the more recent walls are sandstone, and the earlier walls are a black local stone ,probably what the foundations of the castle were made out of.

Unusually, on entering the castle ,on the left, just pass the castle entrance ,is a religious area ,due to lack of space within the main castle ,it was put here and was probably where the family would worship.
In the room, there is a stained glass window that catches the light from the sun beautifully. Well worth a picture(above).On the opposite side ,there is a more recent stained glass window commerating those who lost their lives while developing and testing radar systems for the R.A.F.

We omitted a visit to the dungeon,in fear that the steps may have been too steep.However,the Castle itself is forboding enough.We weren’t too keen on going up the Tower either, as initially there was a school trip on and they were going up there in threes.By the time they had finished we had lost interest.

Goodrich Castle was well worth a visit and certainly brought history to life.
Filed under Short Stories
There is a lot of talk in the UK about the press and politicians not doing enough to counteract genocide when it is happening in the World.
I’m trying to think of the logic that they would want to do this and where it would lead them to.
Basically, oppression of any kind is always resisted ; and unless the black fist of a dictatorship and a seriously psychotic belief that opposition should not exist ; usually the opposition will eat away and eventually win the day or at least the ability to live together peacefully and productively.
If our Press and Politicians are supporting an anhilistic,psychotic oppresser, then they are themselves anhilistic and psychotic which unfortunately precludes them from being either journalists or indeed politicians.
I really can’t see that this is the case, I feel that the situations that exist where genocide is happening are so complex that no one apart from the aggressive protagonist has the answer. They are the ones who need to change their behaviour.
Press and politicians favouring one side or the other,will not achieve anything

Filed under Short Stories
July is my Birthday month,so to celebrate I decided way back in February 2024 to book a night at YHA Wye Valley to stay in one of their six Bell Tents beside the beautiful River Wye.
One of the key considerations was that the hostel is dog friendly,which it is. It cost £63.00 for the night and cooked breakfast in the morning at £9.95 each. For two people,maybe the cost of a B&B with four walls and heating,but for five people which the bell tent sleeps pretty good value.
Also, it only takes us about an hour and forty minutes to drive to the Wye Valley.
The road by passing Gloucester was made more enjoyable by seeing this lovely dog in the back of a landrover.

Herefordshire’s countryside;after by-passing Gloucester, always seems to me to be to be real organic farming land,green luscious with an abundance of small businesses with poly tunnels and fabricated buildings for storage and growing of all sorts of crops.
Like most rural England, it is seriously business minded, not a cow in sight,so it’s definitely different from rural Glocestershire and Wiltshire where we live.Cows are very much part of the landscape there.

As we later found,through conversations with staff and residents at the hostel. The road down to the Wye Valley Hostel is hair raising and not for the faint-hearted. In wet weather conditions,it would certainly make a good episode of The World’s Dangerous Roads.
As we bumped and trundled down the steeply inclined single track road ,avoiding deep ruts, drainage holes, and the sawn off trunks of trees that had blocked the road in the past.
We briefly followed the cyclist whose bike is propped up outside the hostel’s reception (picture above) and who we thankfully passed when he dismounted just before the steep downward incline at the cattle-grid before the cut meadow.
We learned later that he was from California on a trip around Europe.Been ex military he had participated in the Normany landing memorial that had happened a few months previously.
Getting back to our journey ,I was blissfully unaware of the view of the sheer drop from the driver’s side window.Uneven ground was all that lay between us and tipping over into a vast gulley.
While driving dry-mouthed and basically frightened I was told by said driver in no uncertain terms that I was to check with him before booking another remote location,should we survive this one; and should we ever go away again together.
The hair pin was the final straw as we had to do a three point turn to get around it.I said
“Well done” as we made it around .
I was thankful that we could now see what looked like the hostal building in the distance.
Later,the husband of another couple who were in one of the other Bell Tents told me that his wife had said that the hair pin could have been done in one go.
“Well ,we took two.”.Thinking if you’re not driving,then best stay quiet.
As the man later waved a very sharp knife around in the communal kitchen ,(I think he was cutting the rind of some bacon and was very pleased to find the knife. ) I was making myself a cup of tea ,but it crossed my mind maybe that his wife was living on borrowed time.

Still, despite a rainy weather forecast,we arrived and it was sunny and warm, and we saw where the bell tents were located.
I breathed in the fresh, warm air and looked for our bell tent ,which was No.5. As usual ,I was overwhelmed with the booking in procedure and was only half listening to the gentleman explaining where our bell tent was.
However,no 5,( the only one not numbered) smelt a bit rancid and only had uncovered duvets and pillows.I was accused of not checking if duvet covers and sheets were supplied I thought they were,but I suggested to keep the peace that we could use the blankets from the car.So we made up the beds as best we could and him indoors needing a call of nature went up to the hostel by foot.

On his return,we decided to go back up to the hostel to order pizza for tea as the shift change was at 5.00pm, and the guy who was going to cook would be there.
Fortunately, a lady and her daughter who were camping in a tent opposite were heading up to the hostel to wash some clothes justas we were leaving and that was how we we discovered the back steps.Steep but better than the long road around which him indoors had taken initially and brilliantly it gave us access to all the self-catering kitchen and spotlessly clean toilets.
When we got up to reception and while talking to the guy who was going to cook the pizza(which we forgot to order) I asked about the duvet covers,chaos ensued,he was beside himself,the two bell tents should have been made ready.
So we headed back down and found it was No.6 that had been made up. So we transferred our stuff and sat on the picnic benches beside the tent, drinking ginger beer and eating our sandwiches.Foolishly, we had declined the wood for the wood burning stove ,it was summer after all.

We then decided to go for a walk along the River Wye.It was a lovely evening and our dog likes to paddle,but we were a bit wary of the signs saying fast flowing river.It was lovely to be on the non-populated side ,just fields and the banks of the river .Across over the water was a main road and houses and a very noisy pub at one point.So, the peace and tranquillity of our meander along the river was much appreciated.



Tedi disappeared ,attached to his long lead, into the undergrowth, and discovered a sandy beach with a paddling area.So he was happy to get his paws wet and have a good drink from the river.We clambered after him down the steep bank and back up and somehow survived.
The sun was beginning to go down, and as we were right at the bottom of the valley,we decided to head back while it was still light. On the way back, we decided to have a look at the portaloos, which were for the campers in the field.They were handy but pretty awful.We did the necessary and headed back to the tent.
We settled in for the night ,had sips of ginger beer, and munched on some crisps.We used wet wipes to wash our faces and hands and charged our phones on the car battery,not realising that there was a battery pack in the tent.Neither of us fancied making the trek up to the stairs to the main hostal.
There’s this really oddly located Church and graveyard beside the hostal and the camping field . Apparently, it is now owned and maintained by the Methodists. It has a working bell tower,which chimes every hour, and the building fabric is solid and looked after.However, it would be difficult,given the terrain for a congregation to gather there and as far a we could see no one was allowed in the gates.

When the sun went down,the tent went from being very hot to freezing cold. I luckily had brought some Ron Hills to wear in bed and a jumper.So with the duvet on top,it was bearable.My better half was not quite so lucky. He was feeling the cold very badly.
The dog, though, was quite happy,wrapped up in his blankets and duvet. Not a squeak out of him.

The dog managed to get asleep and stay asleep. However,we tossed and turned, feeling the icy cold on anything that was exposed to the atmosphere,we just couldn’t get to sleep. Really, we needed the wood burner,it was a shame we didn’t make use of it.
Inevitably, at 3am in the morning,we felt the need to reply to the call of nature. We had a tacit agreement that if I needed to go,we all would go,including the dog.So we trotted off to go to the portaloos . (Walking by the disused Church and up the stairs seemed a bit spooky at that time of night.)
The dog weed in the bushes, and we relieved ourselves in the nearly overflowing portaloos.At least the walk relieved the freezing cold in the tent.
We were nearly back at the tent when we came across a large hedgehog crossing our path.The dog took one look and ignored it.We did the usual awe isn’t that wonderful and then after a short walk we all got back into the tent.
We moulded ourselves into the double duvet ,and I suggested that we make use of the duvets from the other beds.So I think we finally got some sleep for a few hours.
I woke up when it got light and sat on the futon and used the last of my phone charge to keep up with my Spanish Apps,Memrise and Duolingo.I then decided to go up to the hostal for a wee and make myself a cup of tea which I did.It was lovely.I wondered back down,half drunken mug in hand and warm sun on my face and thought this is the enjoyable part of camping.
When I got back, Dog and Bod were still fast asleep ,and my phone battery had died.So I sat on the futon and snoozed.
We’d booked a cooked breakfast for 8am,so we went up to the hostel for that.I made some more tea and we had two very good cooked breakfasts,plus a cold sausage for the Dog,which he was most appreciative of.

It was nice just staying one night,packing and unpacking was easy, and when it was time to go, it didn’t take long to put our things in the car.
We were assured that the road up the hill would be clear,as those going down had the right of way. The staff are often asked to reverse people’s cars down the hill when they meet an oncoming delivery lorry.
On the road up ,I was, of course, on the side looking down at the drop,it was impressive. We made it, and we had already decided as we were in Goodrich that we would visit Goodrich Castle,that though is another story….
Filed under Short Stories