Last Commented Family Blogs (544)

There's some weird stuff happening in UK schools and the Daily Mail has got very overexcited about it. I know it's a long blog. You can skip to the last paragraph.

The link is at the bottom of the blog but because it's the Daily Mail, and wants to make you OUTRAGED, a bit of context first ...

There's an 8 year old boy who wants to be a girl. He wants it so badly that his parents are on board with it (man, I hope some serious counselling and thought has gone into this, but the Mail ain't saying) and he's going to be starting sex-change drugs now, before puberty. The school authorities know and are being fully supportive. They even had an organization called Mermaid come in to talk about it in general terms.

(Hang on, this is so common there's an organization?? oh yes. Government funded, AND a 500K lottery grant. Yeah, I was taken aback too )

The Mail angle is that the school vicar, while on board with the sex-change, has clashed with the school over one issue so badly that he's resigned. The kid's parents, and the school, want it to be as low-key and uncontroversial as possible. Victor (not his name) will, as Victoria, use the female loos and be called she, move along folks, nothing to see here.

The vicar wants all the other parents of all the other kids to be told. Well, we all know the average parent will be supportive, will tell their own kids to take it in their stride and not give it a second thought.

I can see both points of view but then that is my curse

Here's that link, prepare to be stirred to your boots, eh?

The Mail being the Mail strongly implies the school is doing it and the kid's own parents don't know. That is Fake News. Oh and turns out the drugs aren't changing his sex just delaying puberty. Well, that's the Daily Mail for you. Read by 23.5 million people every month, too.

Colour me puzzled that there are so many kids who, before puberty, are so convinced they are the wrong gender they know it is right to change. And is it right to change? What's so bad about spending childhood being androgynous, wearing jeans and t-shirts and not confronted with having to wear frills or have skinned knees ... I was a bit of a tomboy. In retrospect, man I would not be happy now to have been hurried along the road to make a decision to change to a boy. My younger brother, frankly, a bit of a sissy as a kid. Cried every time I knocked him over, that sort of thing. Ditto.



edited this blog to say I finally got round to looking at some statistics and turns out one baby in up to 2000 births is born with "atypical" genitalia. There's a comment on the 2nd page with more detail on that. That's a small percentage, sure, but in big populations a surprising number of people where the boy/girl line is definitely blurred.

Remember that I inherited a dog named Lucy when my friend passed. Bella nor I saw that coming. Getting a spoiled dog with no instructions has been a small challenge on both ends of the leash.

Lucy had to give up canned dog food because that stuff scares me. Bella ate so little but Lucy is five times her size so I've had to figure out how much she eats and buy larger amounts of organ meats to mix with veggies, fruits and quinoa or brown rice. At first Lucy resisted but gobbles up her food now.

The only thing is her name. She doesn't come when I just call "Lucy", she doesn't come until I call her a third time then she bolts to me. So she doesn't know her name is Lucy.....she thinks it is Lucy, Lucy, Lucy.

She cracks me up. Sometimes she will sit and stare at me while making a small growl in her throat. I'm still trying to figure out what she is telling me. If she needs to go outside she makes that sound then goes sits at the door staring at it, then I know it is time for a walk. She is training me.

On windy days I often think back to an event that took place long, long ago when I was but a boy and health and safety was still in short trousers. The drama that I am about to unfold for you took place on the 85th birthday of my best friend’s grandfather.

Alan’s granddad was a small, slightly built man but surprisingly sprightly for his age. In those days 85 was an good age to have reached and the family had decided that the occasion should be marked with more than the usual victoria sponge and yet more pairs of socks and pants. They could have organised some sort of surprise for him but it no doubt seemed easier just to ask him what he would most like to do on his special day. I think they expected him to take time to think about his birthday treat but when he came back with an instant reply they were both surprised and regretful that they didn’t take the trouble to organise a surprise, after all. In a manner that sounded almost rehearsed the old man stated that the only thing he wanted -and his tone of voice strongly implying the only thing he would settle for- was to perform a parachute jump. Anyway, to cut a long story short, and spare me the the trouble of making one up, the family accepted the inevitable and Alan’s dad organised the parachute jump.

Before Alan’s granddad was allowed to make the jump it was necessary for him to attend a training session; which he got through with no problem, apparently. The instructor did have one or two safety concerns, but, after the old man’s agreeing to remove his false teeth beforehand, he seemed to be satisfied that it was safe to go ahead.

The event was to take place on a Wednesday morning. Luckily, it was the school holidays and Alan invited me along to watch the spectacle. So there we all were, about a dozen of us standing in a field looking towards the skies. At first there was just a faint, distant drone, but then appeared a spec in the sky which very shortly became identifiable as a small aircraft. Up till then it had been a fine early June morning, barely a cloud in the sky and very still. Just before the aeroplane was over the field, though, a breeze seemed to come out of nowhere.

The plan was for Alan’s granddad to jump first, followed very soon after by the instructor. It was only when the chutes opened that the flaw in the plan became apparent. The first thing we noticed was that the instructor was descending noticeably quicker than the granddad. The second thing we noticed was that the granddad’s progress seemed to be more horizontal than vertical. As I mentioned earlier, Alan’s granddad was not a very substantial man, and it now became obvious that the degree of his insubstantiality had not been adequately taken into account.


As I watched I was reminded of a dandelion seed floating on the wind, after being blown free from the fluffy pom-pom of the flower head. Alan’s dad got in his car and tried to follow but the roads, of course, didn’t always run in the direction he wanted to go, so a certain amount of predicting the final destination was called for. He was never going to get it right, no one could have.

The granddad of Alan’s adventure came to a undignified end when he clattered into the dustbins behind the chiropodist’s on the High Street. Now this was an amazing coincidence because he had an appointment at that very chiropodist’s that very afternoon. The commotion brought the staff running out to see what had happened almost immediately. After a short period of questions and explanations, granddad was whisked inside and given a mug of very sweet tea; which was the remedy for most things in those days. The staff couldn’t have been better, they brought forward his appointment and treated his corns there and then.

This is a true story and everything happened exactly as I have described.

My Dad was a proud man all his life. As a Father he was a hypocrite who taught us do as he said not as he did. No one is perfect. He loved the family and we are a large loving happy family.

Last year after a few accidents I bought Dad a box of Adult pull ups. It is probably the only time ever in my life that Mom got mad at me and rolled her eyes into the back of her head because I insulted Dad's dignity by buying pull ups. I told Mom I would give them away but at least take 3 in case Dad get's sick in which case, he loses control.

Two months later Mom called and asked me to order more, they prevented the mess from accidents. Still he did not lose his dignity in full. Now after being in this rehab facility for five months, he has virtually no dignity left. He has been in Adult diapers (I didn't even know they made them) and has no problem with anyone seeing him in them. The disease strips one completely of their dignity.

In my mind, I've already lost Dad. He may recognize me when I enter but forgets I was there ten minutes later. Soon he won't even know me. The worst part is that he sleeps 22 hours out of a 24 hr. day. That is no life, none, nadda, asta la bye bye. If he would have known this was his destiny he would have taken himself out last year. If death with dignity were offered here, one bro and myself would vote for him to take it, however the rest of the family would consider that blasphemy. They want him alive whether he is gone in his mind or not. When Dad was young he was the same, his Dad was in a dead coma with a strong heart and my Dad kept pounding him to keep that heart beating for as long as he could because he couldn't let go.

He has good insurance so the doctors will keep him alive most likely for years to come. Maybe it would be a good thing if he didn't have insurance. I would never dream of letting one of my dogs suffer, as much as it kills me, and it does, I put them down when they are stripped of a quality life.

And greatly missed.



I do not stand alone. What's always standing behind me to be strong, and do the right thing is the honour and love of my father. I try never to fail you. Even when I did, you were behind me.


To all the fathers on this special day. But always in our hearts.

Death of infants seem to be on the rise here in Belize, the USA and other places.

The dads are physically beating two months old, eight months old babies to death by multiple cranial fractures etc. ??

Parents are you crazy ?
What can a newly born defenseless baby do to you so bad ?

Why go and copulate in the first place ? They did not ask you to bring them into existence.

Government what will you do to these wicked parents who are of well sound mind but just have the Hollywood pretense and find multiple silly reasons to do these sad things to these babies.

Drug addict parents give the child to a family member of sound mind or to the government rather that harming the child on your cocaine high.

It's so sad and I feel it for these children.


All countries should give lethal injection or electrocution to all parents who willfully kill their children.

KILL AND BE KILLED !!

That's not a joke.

There may be former English kings, queens, princes & princesses rolling over in their graves right now.

They couldn't think of a better name than Archie ?

Will he eventually marry an Edith ? and nickname his son-in-law 'Meathead' ?

Will his favorite sayings include......"dummy up" ?

Was Bozo taken ?

another opens. Old AA saying. And it's so often true. Was never as close to my 5 sibs as I admired in other families, such as many Irish ones. Even invited as non family guest to many of the bacchanalian large family reunions of the latter, and had fun watching the many fights, then the teary make ups, amid the profound signs of love. Always left a little envious. But now that both of our folks have left us, and left me managing their estate, have been sending updates of my progress on this job to all, and we are becoming closer, and more in touch. Odd how this works. Grateful.

A while back, my old washing machine died. I decided to replace it with an HE (High Efficiency) washing machine. These washers require less soap and less water. I went along with the idea that this new machine would do a better wash and cost less.
For sure we use less detergent, but It takes longer to complete a wash cycle.
I have no way to verify if the water consumption or electrical usage is any different.

Normal settings are used with a 2nd rinse.

Not long after it became clear how significant the difference of using less water really is...
Friction on the clothes.

The photo shows how abrasive my HE washer is to jeans.
Be a frayed (afraid) very a frayed of this.



Those 'were' my favorite jeans...


Thanks for reading my blog!

I got an early Mother's Day surprise from my son and his family as they came up this weekend to see me and the folks. I took us all out to breakfast before going to see Dad in rehab.

The family of four sitting at the table next to us was a Mom, Dad and 2 beasties all four of them with their noses in their phones. I set my phone in the middle of the table and told my gang to do the same. I said whoever touches their phone first gets the bill. At the end of the meal I reached for my phone (I knew I was paying) so my son points and says you get the bill Mom. I just smiled. We all talked to each other throughout the whole meal. Anyone sitting at the table my son sits always gets to belly laugh because he has the family comic genes. He is simply hilarious and his son fits right in.

It is pretty cool to see how much my grandson grows between visits. At the age of ten kids just have growing spurts and I get to notice it so much more now that I rarely see him compared to before I moved to Tampa.

It seems no matter where I'm at or where I look someone has their nose buried in their phone.