Sadly many women like myself have learnt not to reply if we do not want to take it any further on any level. I think that should be a person's prerogative to choose. However, sadly, by not replying, I then receive a second angry email stating how rude I am, so from my own perspective, I thought I would set the record straight.
I receive many emails but many of them are outside my remit i.e. especially from younger men or separated guys or chaps who have children living at home etc. Now if I write politely saying I am not interested it seems to have the reverse effect of closing the door. Instead I am often bombarded with arguments why I should consider younger men, many of a suggestive nature, and I ask myself why did I bother to reply in the first place. Many men take it personally and then I have to block them!
So, as polite as I am by nature, I have chosen to exercise my right not to reply and I feel sure I am not alone in choosing this way...
A few thoughts on Madeleine McCann:
My God people are so envious and quick to judge on social media, and I also did, but I now accept the evil perpetrated by the media against the poor parents is far worse than their shortfalls. It now seems almost 99% likely that this poor child was abducted by a sadist - raped, tortured and murdered. Her parents must be in HELL. Yet people seem to still judge them as if they killed Madeleine. No. It has to stop. They are not good people but they didn't murder her. In fact, the worst thing that could happen to any child has happened to theirs: so they were lousy parents, and, if we can believe the reports, used Maddie's fund to pay off their mortgage, a highly reprehensible act and one of betrayal to those who donated to find a lost little girl, however, they still have been wandering around in purgatory these long long years hoping and praying that she had not fallen victim to a monster. Yet she had. They now know that her last hours were filled with unimaginable horror and pain which will haunt them more than the torture of not knowing.
Where is our mercy? Where is our pity? Why do we judge so insatiably and cowardly online?
Reading through hundreds of comments following the latest new-stories, I expected to see a universal outpouring of grief for what we now know happened to Madeleine and some sympathy to her less-than-perfect parents, but her parents nonetheless, and remorse at our willingness to label them as child-killers and paedophiles and many more heinous labels. BUT NO! No grieving to be found here .Or empathy. Only BLAME! Have we, perhaps, become the real monsters?!!
Dream Worlds
Evil, sharp, little teeth resembling baby alligators' grinned as the three dogs
entered their dream worlds. As they slept their eyelids twitched with the white
orbs rolling round and their padded feet waved in the air as if playing ping-
pong. These Scottish terriers hunted even in their dreams. Extinct animals
were a favourite prey as well as beasts from mythology. No wonder they
woke up their human mother with such loud grunts, growls, groans, howls
and even barks escaping their floppy lips.
Daisy Netallworth, felt like any worried mum, who hears their child in the
night, only she heard all three of her ‘boys’ and so decided to listen in and then
test if they were secretly awake by pulling faces at them. First was her cat-
face, consisting of a slow smile and half-closed eyes. Next, she pulled a frog-
face, her large eyes now goggling from side-to-side with her tongue flicking in
and out. Then came the real tester, her fox-face, this one sent them bonkers
usually, but today they still slumbered. Several attempts at twitching her nose
high, showing off her teeth and flicking back imaginary whiskers made not the
slightest difference: the three terriers were limp and heavy, dead-weights, in
fact, and with smiling expressions and closed shut eyes, they “innocently”
slept on.
‘Hey, you three!’ hissed the poor woman desperate to get to sleep but they
were in another world.
Behind their closed lids, millions of images flickered away like a silent
movie. This was no normal sleep, all three were actually at the ‘mental flicks'.
Within their memories they had stored rolls of creature pictures that they
enjoyed in the privacy of the mind's eye. This is a secret place we all have
inside us where we can retreat to, experiencing wild and wonderful things
through the power of our imagination. Hence, we humans are often puzzled
over a dog's ability to snore for a whole week; yet is it any surprise when they
are not simply lying there but are off in far away places?
Henry, top hunter, nicknamed the General, often took a dream-week in
Wales with the dragons of old. He would snack on the charred remains of their
prey similar to his mum’s barbeques. Angus (better known as Fangz) was
smaller but no less a 'butcher', and dreamt of stalking the dreaded minotaur.
This half man-half bull would be half dead once Fangz got a grip. Lastly,
Dudley, the West Highland White Terrier, fantasized the most. Yet Dudley
only ever thought of one thing -'babes'. As for hunting, it left him too untidy to
get a girl. It followed, therefore, that whatever these three dreamt about,
dreamtime was a noisy affair.
(This is an extract from a series of children's books I have written based on my terrifying terriers who got me banned from every park in London: enjoy!
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