All At Sea

Today must be Tuesday as we roam around Rome. So to all my friends in Blogland I'll be back shortly. well After Pisa. and Nice.

I have found a sure fire way to lose weight. Ask a Italian taxi driver to drive you from Naples to Sorrento. And I will guarantee you a weight lose of at least 1 and a half stone. Were did it all go I was sat in it.

If I can, anybody can !!

I decided to write this blog for no other reason then to get off my chest the sometimes futile message that living with Emphysema is not a automatic death sentence.

As such, I doubt if it will attract much attention from the many fit and healthy bloggers out there in Blogland. But if I can reach just one or two then my two finger typing will not have been in vain.

In 1998 I was admitted to hospital with a suspected Angina attack, following numerous tests it was decided that I was to be re-diagnosed as having C.O.P.D. (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease). Now most people I have spoken to and I assure you I have spoken to many, have never heard of the disease, let alone what C.O.P.D. stood for or the consequences of having it.

I on the other hand had got a very good idea of consequences. My Mother was diagnosed in 1993 as having what in those days was termed as C.O.A.D. which was exactly the same apart from the "A" which stood for Airways. Mum had been a heavy smoker certainly for as long as I knew what a cigarette was.

I started smoking at about 14, the usual thing pinch one out of Mums packet for on the way to school. The Tuck shop near school would sell singles, and if you were really well off with pocket money you could buy 5 Park Drive for 6d that's six old pence. In today's terms that would be Two and a half new pence. Then it was off to the back of the bike sheds to smoke them. Or later that evening at the youth club to really impress the girls, yes it was cool to smoke (If Only).

And so to work as a apprentice motor mechanic I neither had the money or the inclination to smoke at work, with oil on your fag it tasted vile anyway. But come the week-end now that was a different matter I could always find money for a packet of fags, I had also graduated to packets of ten at a cost of 1 shilling and 9 pence. Less then 10p in today's money. (If Only).

Continuing my graduation to even more ciggy's and the so called better brands continued to increase throughout my working life, at this stage 40 a day. Till in April 1998, My doctor told me the results of tests had confirmed C.O.P.D. My G.Ps advice at the time was Stop Smoking and with proper medication we can control your disease. I could, I thought handle anything that was thrown at me but I could not get my head round the "Word" Disease, I thought leprosy is a disease, contagious illnesses are disease's, STD is a disease. What the hell was I doing with a disease, little did I know it is a general term for any degenerating illness, which by definition gets progressively worse as time goes on. (If only)

Even though mum suffered from shortage of breath on exertion she was still able to potter around in her bungalow with the help of a carer. Until May 2000 when she was rushed into hospital at deaths door, however she rallied, but was unable to continue living alone in Derbyshire. I was able to get her a place in a residential care home just half a mile from us. She never really settled as she felt she had lost her independence. Mum passed away in August of 2006, so from 1993 to 2006 a total of 13 years she had fought the disease and to the end never gave up. I use this as an example, you will see why shortly (And yes at this point I still had not fully kicked the fags) (If Only)

Having been diagnosed in 1998 and knowing just a little about this condition, I felt as though I needed to know more about this debilitating illness. So you ask around and as with most cases in life you invariably come across the "Barrack Room Lawyer", or sometimes better known as "I know everything there is to know" but the truth is they more then likely no nothing at all that is useful.

I met just such a chap, and I hate to say it but it was someone I looked up to and respected, in fact a man of the cloth. He told me that once diagnosed with Emphysema you have at most three years to live. It wasn't put quite as blunt as that but that was the very clear message, having given me chapter and verse on a couple of parishioners he had been involved with. One of which I also personally knew very well, so his opinion did carry some weight. Of course his most useful piece of advice was to stop smoking. Oh yes I was still sucking on the weed. But there again I'm a clever devil I am (If Only).

So her we are nine years later and I'm still here. Not as mobile as I was nine years ago, I get out of breath much quicker on exertion. I have to use oxygen for about 4 hours a day on iffy days, about 9 hours on a bad day, and on a good day I don't use oxygen at all, the trick is stringing the good days together. And for relaxation, I now Blog thanks to a good friends encouragement. I also run a Self support group for people with lung disease. I produce a monthly newsletter which goes out to over 80 members. I have given talks on the effects of living with C.O.P.D. to medical seminars and to general patients groups. on behalf of our own group I have arranged 3 and 4 day mini cruises to Spain, Norway and Belgium, numerous social events and day trips. I was once told by one of my members, "Bloody hell Keith, we can't keep up with you" Although I hasten to add it was said with a smile on his face and a wink of the eye.

I have been a reformed smoker for just 18 month, and yes in that time I have I am sure been a real pain in the arse at times. I have never told anyone to stop smoking, that through my eye's would be totally hypocritical. But if only I had listened to those who were telling me. Boy do I wish I had listened. (If Only)

But now let me tell you why I really push so much. It is a known fact that patients with C.O.P.D. have a tendency to say, I can't do this or I can't do that because I get out of breath and I am scared of having an attack that could put me in hospital or even worse give me heart failure. I know totally how they feel, as I've been there, done that, bought the t-sheet. But and it's awful big but, if you cede to the I'm tied in the house syndrome, or I don't want to do that, or I cannot be bothered just in case. Then that is a sure way to set that clock ticking down, and some would do well to manage even three years.

Recently, we in Bolton have seen the beginnings of a truly remarkable exercise program for victims of C.O.P.D. What is remarkable about it ? It is manned and run by a group of Specialist Thoracic Nurses, Physiotherapist, Dietitian's and Occupational therapists. Which they themselves set up without additional funding from the local P.C.T. (Primary Care Trust) or better known as the miser's that hold the purse strings. I am proud to say that our own group were able to fund the purchase of the equipment needed.

Whilst it may well be to late for the likes of me to really benefit, the real benefit is for those that will be diagnosed tomorrow, the day after and those that don't know they have a problem YET. My message to them and anyone else do not give up on yourself. As I said at the beginning IT IS NOT A DEATH SENTENCE.

So as I prepare to go off on a 12 day cruise through the Mediterranean with all the little trimmings like 10 Restaurants, 15 bars, 2 Show Theaters, Casino, and a Movie theater. Then of course there are the things I cannot do like the Gym, The Climbing Wall, Deck Sports, but what the hell win some lose some. It never fails to amuse me when very good intentioned people ask " Are you sure your up to it" or "But what if you get ill" I reply I can get ill sat in my arm chair, I can get killed on the road whilst driving my car, I could also die tomorrow from a totally undiagnosed illness. So I choose to go for it. I will never do anything knowingly stupid. But if I'm likely to have a problem, I would rather meet it head on, it's far better to have tried, then knowing deep down inside that I never tried at all.

On Tuesday I was at the hospital to obtain a fit to travel certificate, I was told by a certain specialist nurse that I was coincided a blooming marvel, well I don't know about that, I think they were just being polite and kind as always. But I was asked, "Does nothing worry you" well the answer was of course yes. "This Cruise I'm going on is the Maiden Voyage of the Norwegian Gem and we all know what happened to the TITANIC".

So if I go missing for a while don't worry I'll be back. And if I'm not, will some kind soul out there check the shipping forecast and find out where that bloody ship sank.

Please engage brain before opening the mouth.

I being fairly new to the blog scene, sometimes I cannot comprehend the mind set of some of the complete and utter idiots out there. They in the main a faceless idiots that I am never likely to meet, so why does their written word get me so up tight.

Recently I along with countless others have been following the stories, exploits and general funnies of a certain lady. This Lady introduced me to the wonderful world of blog land, and what a wonderful place it could be if it were not for the likes of some mindless idiots.

The Lady concerned recently received what could be potentially devastating news, many, many have offered words of encouragement, including myself. I personally lost a Daughter to a brain tumor at the age of thirteen. So I feel I can empathise. Whilst I still feel that the news would have been given a more personal and prioritised call or letter from the consultant, had there been anything that rang immediate alarm bells.

But for this Lady to open her post to find messages from a obvious woman hater, and a religious sect on behalf of the chosen one. Please, were do these morons get what ever modicum of brain power they are cursed with from.

I have made my feeling known on the sights concerned, in no uncertain terms. I am also gratified to find that other bloggers feel the same way and have not been afraid to speak out also.

To the Lady and her family, hang in there, hang loose and tackle all adversities one at a time. I hope and pray that you will not be having to tackle many.



Keith

I've just got to make that train connection.

November 1945, a soldier was returning home after two long years. He had drawn his pay, his travel warrant and a five day leave docket. Having travelled up from Aldershot camp, to St Pancras one of London’s major rail links to the north. The first action of the day was to check the departure times for Sheffield. Having established that the next train was at 5.40 pm, changing at Nottingham. The train was due to arrive in Nottingham at 9.55, with the connection for Sheffield departing at 10.05 pm.

The time now 1710 by his Wiess wristwatch, a lovely piece of Swiss precision. Having confirmed the time, some form of compulsion made him rub his left shoulder only to trigger an immediate sharp burning pain, as he caught the embedded remains of a bullet wound. The memories of that day in May when the troop was just south of Minden came flooding back. The war was rapidly coming to a close but there were still small pockets of the S.S. that were prepared to die for the Fatherland rather then surrender to the advancing allied troops.

As part of an advanced troop Harry and his platoon entered Minden only to be met by a hail of machine gun fire and sniper fire from various high vantage points. The troop took up defensive positions, the troop sergeant major followed by three of the lads rushed the building were the machine gun fire was coming from, as Harry surveyed the scene he saw the flash of a rifle from a third floor window of the local Hotel. Working his way round the edge of the small town square, he and two other lads entered the hotel, slowly climbing to the third floor Pete Dixon, Harry’s pal they had been together through North Africa, Sicily, Italy and now virtually at the end of the war. Pete rushed the room only to be met by a hail of bullets, Harry close behind stopped a bullet in the shoulder as he tossed a grenade into the room.

He and Taffy Thomas rushed the room only to find....”Oh my God there now't but bloody school kids”. They found three bodies, all members of Hitler Youth Corps. On returning to the square they found that the remaining pockets of resistance had capitulated once the machine gun post was silenced. The remaining Germans were rounded up to reveal that apart from two officers and a sergeant, the rest were all members of Hitler Youth the youngest being just thirteen. Though looting was generally frowned upon. The SS Captain had no further use for his Wiess watch, and if these bastards could force these kids to fight and die for the Fatherland then he deserved to be relived of his watch.

A Quick look at the watch told Harry there was enough time to grab a cup of tea before the train.
1745 hrs the train draws away from the platform, only five minutes late thinks Harry still as long as there are no more hold up’s, all being well I’ll be sleeping in my own bed tonight. Slowly the train gathers speed as it leaves the outskirts of London. The train was packed, standing in the corridor for the next four hours or so, wasn’t something that Harry was looking forward to. Things didn’t improve when the train pulled into Luton as another five or six tried to squeeze themselves into the already crowded corridor. Two hours later the train pulled into Leicester, Harry was delighted as what seemed to be a mass exodus from the carriage. At last there was somewhere to sit, no sooner had Harry got himself settled , when two W.R.A.F (Woman’s Royal Air Force) got on the train. Being the complete gentleman Harry and the chap opposite relinquished their seats, so it was back to the corridor but at least this time he could sit on his kit bag and stretch out his legs a little.

It was 2040 hours as the train pulled out of Leicester, a quick look at the watch confirmed that there was just 75 minutes to Nottingham and a further 10 minutes to make the connection for Sheffield a total of 85 minutes. That’s cutting it a bit fine thinks Harry, still nothing I can do about it so I might as well sit back and relax.

As he sat his mind drifted back to the heat of North Arica, were he and a young Pete Dixon first met Pete was eighteen and Harry a veteran at twenty. They had fought together at El Alamein, they had drunk ice cold beers in Cairo, they had then landed on the shores of Sicily, at Augusta in the south and fought their way through Sicily to Palermo in the north. Then onto the mainland of Italy to Monte Casino. And at every opportunity, sampled the local products of the vine.

Whilst enjoying the delights of R and R (rest and recuperation) in Rome, They took in all the tourist bits and some of the lesser locations to delight in a little La Dolce Vita. On the final day in Rome they decided it would be a good idea to take a swim in the Trevi Fountain. For that little indiscretion they both landed up on a charge, Harry lost his second stripe and Pete was busted back to private, with five days in the guard house, which was never served as the regiment was moving up to the front line the following day.

A dash through northern Italy, mopping up small pockets of resistance. The German army was now in full retreat. Turn left into northern France ready for the final push into Germany. They knew that once they were into Germany the resistance and defence of the homeland would be fierce. But they simply had no way of knowing to what ends the Nazis hardliners would adopt to defend the Fatherland. As Harry recalled once again that fateful day in Minden when Pete lost his life not against the cream of the German Army but a bunch of bloody kids playing soldiers. What a bloody waste, the date 5th May 1945 three days later the German Army capitulates. On the 8th of May the unconditional surrender of the German forces on land, sea and air was signed. Victory in Europe Day was declared.

All change, all change, was the shout that stirred Harry back to reality. All change, all change for Sheffield, Manchester and Liverpool. A quick look at the watch confirmed his worst fears 2202. Oh shit three minutes to get to the other train, a quick dash down the platform showing his travel warrant at the barrier “what platform is the train for Sheffield mate” asked Harry. “Platform six and you’d better be fast it’s due out in a minute or two”. Bloody hell that’s at the far side of the station, kit bag on the shoulder and run like hell, over the connecting bridge down the steps only to see the last carriage passing him by. Oh F**K.

Looking round Harry spots the platform attendant, excuse me pal what time is the next train to Sheffield. “Don’t know pal you will have to ask at the main barrier on platform one”. So it’s back across the bridge. The ticket collector was asked, “what time is the next train to Sheffield”. “Na lad thas missed thi last un for’t nite. Next uns the milk run train at ‘haf pas fiv” . Oh hell says Harry, “where is the waiting room then? “ We aint got one of them not one that’s open anyhow, well not since it got bombed “. “ When was that then?” asked Harry. “November 42”. Bloody hell you don’t exactly rush your repairs here in Nottingham do you?..... “Eh” said the ticket collector.

Oh well nothing for it but to get my head down on one of these benchers. Thank God for my army great coat (thick, heavy and long overcoat) So with great coat tightly buttoned up and kit bag under his head Harry settled down for the remainder of the night. Just as he was drifting off he was rudely interrupted. Excuse me corporal, I’m sorry to trouble you but you don’t look very comfortable!! Harry roused too see the most stunning looking lady he had not seen the likes of for many a year. “Sorry, but I was just dropping off, what did you say”? “I said you didn’t look very comfortable on that bench”. “ You can say that again Ma’m, it is a little hard.

I wonder, would you like to come back to my place for a hot drink and I’m sure I could find you something to eat. Now, Harry being the sort that never lets an opportunity pass him by. Well yes Ma’m, thank you ma’m, I’d love to thank you very much ma’m. “ Right lets drop the ma’m bit shall we, just call me Devinia, and what shall I call you corporal”? The names Harry ma’m, sorry I mean Devinia. Right Harry lets get going it’s about ten minutes walk towards Trent Bridge.” I’m right there with you Devinia”, say’s Harry with a twinkle in his eye, and a newly found spring in his step.

As they walked along, Harry related his journey from Aldershot to missing his connection here in Nottingham. Devinia explained that she had been to the station to see her sister off on her return to Glasgow. Also that her husband was at sea with the Merchant Navy, and had been so for the last two months. On approaching the house a very large Edwardian detached property. To Harry a lad from the Manor estate in Sheffield this represented pure wealth, defiantly the posh end of town.

As they entered Divinia showed Harry to a large sitting room, with very fine period furniture, thick piled carpets and Persian rugs. Good God thinks Harry “this is a bit different from a two bedded council house with linoleum on the living room floor and rag twist rugs, and nothing but stone slabs in the kitchen. Make yourself comfortable Harry, take your coat off and loosen your battledress tunic if you wish. Would you like a drink Harry? “Yes please” just as the last button on his tunic was opened “can I have a cuppa tea please”? “ Well yes if you wish, but I thought you might like something a little stronger” said Devinia. “Oh right, what have you got”? “I’ll tell you what you help yourself whilst I go and change into something more comfortable for this time of night. You will find whatever you want in the drinks cabinet in the corner”. Said Divinia pointing to a very elegant cabinet, in the far corner. Harry went to get himself a drink, on opening the cabinet, he was amazed to find it fully stocked with just about every spirit Harry had ever heard of and a good few he had never heard of. Settling for a large whiskey and soda he poured his drink and crossed the room to sit on a very large settee to await the return of Devinia. Taking a good look round the room there were many family pictures, but the one that immediately caught Harry’s eye was the one in a lavish silver frame of a merchant seaman, with all that gold braid, this must be at the very least a Captain, a master of his own vessel. Was this Devinia’s Husband no he looks far too old, it must be her father. Yes that must be it; It’s obviously a family of seafarers.

On her return Harry almost choked on his drink. As she stood at the entrance of the room in a very sheer negligee, in fact had it been any sheerer she might as well not have bothered wearing it at all. To retain a little modicum of modesty she did however ware a pure silk dressing gown. “I see you’ve got yourself a drink can you do one of those for me sweetie, What would you like to eat”? asked Devinia . “ Well I don’t want to put you to any bother anything will do fine”. For the first time Harry really studied his host. She had the perfect hour glass figure, with shoulder length auburn hair. She reminded Harry of a picture he had had of the film star Rita Hayworth, which had taken pride of place above his bunk at boot camp back in 1939, when he had first enlisted. Looking at Divinia once again he figured that she was in her mid to late thirties, she could easily be taken for much less. The ravages of war had not diminished her stunning beauty. “ So Harry, have you made up your mind as to what you would like to eat, I can offer you a steak or a nice piece of salmon which would you prefer”? “Well as long as you are sure it’s no trouble, I’d really love a steak, I’ve not seen a steak since I was in Cairo and I’m not convinced that one came from a cow either”. “How do you want it cooked”. “Well done pleased”. Fine pour us both another drink and I’ll get the steaks on.

On returning from the kitchen Devinia laid two plates on the dinning table. The steaks were not just bits of steak but enormous T Bone steaks American style, garnished with potatoes, broccoli and best of all fried onions. I have to ask said Harry “how do you manage to put on such a spread with all the rationing”. Well I told you my husband was at sea didn’t I ? “Yes” said Harry. “Well each time he gets home he brings loads of goodies it’s just one of the perks of the job”, said Devinia. I suppose that’s where all the booze comes from then? “Well yes I suppose I’m lucky in that respect, but how was your steak” enquired Harry’s host. “It was absolutely fabulous” said Harry. We’ll have a coffee then perhaps you might want to have a lay down before going to catch your train. Coffee as well is there no end to your supplies. “Well I tend to be running short by the time hubby gets back to shore” said Devinia. How do you like your coffee Harry”? “Milk and two sugars please”. Right do you want to go up to the spare bedroom, top of the stairs turn right and second left, I’ll bring your coffee up to you shortly make yourself comfortable.

Now rightly or wrongly, Harry took that to mean strip off and I’ll be in shortly, about ten minutes had elapsed when into the doorway stood Devinia. Backlit by the light coming from the landing, the dressing gown was now gone. The fullness of her body could clearly be seen through the shear negligee. “I’ll bring the coffee to the bedside table and we can continue our chat if you wish for a short while” said Devinia. Harry said “sure fine I’d like that” if the truth be known the last thing on Harry’s mind was a chat. As she leaned over to place the coffee tray on the table, the fullness of her plentiful breast were virtually falling out of her night gown. As a serving soldier Harry had seen the flesh pots of Cairo, the seedier side of Rome and other towns and cities across Europe. But this, this was something totally new to him and he didn’t know how to respond. Should he make a move was that what was expected, or was it that Devinia is such a nice lady and genuinely wanted to help a stranded soldier returning home on leave.

He didn’t have to wait to long before he knew what he was expected to do. “I’ll take my coffee to the other side of the bed to finish it. I’ll lay on the bed whilst we chat, if you don’t mind o.k.”? “You bet” said Harry, not believing his incredible luck. This only ever happens in them mucky magazines that you buy in the plain covers at the local newsagents, and the type of mag’s that do the rounds in the barracks. As she laid down beside him he could feel the warmth of her body against his, whilst he had been aroused ever since she appeared at the bedroom door. But now he was so aroused, if he were to turn over to quickly, he would have done himself a permanent injury. But as she started to stroke his shoulder, slowly softly he could stand it no more. As he turned on his side and threw his arm across her.

He went with such a bump as he rolled off the station bench. The platform attendant who had been trying to rouse him by rubbing him on the shoulder, was now looking down at him on the floor. The attendant said “ I thought I ought to wake you corporal , has the milk train to Sheffield is just about to pull into the station”. As the train came to a halt Harry stood with his kit bag strategically positioned to his front and with a distinct limp Harry boarded the train on his final leg home.

I ONLY WISH I HAD SOME BRAINS

I always thought that I had a modicum of intelligence, very little seemed to be beyond my comprehension until that is, I decided to go for wireless technology.
Matthew, Kathleen and James

I recently changed my television, telephone and broadband provider from NTL to the new Sky package which when advertised looked far more attractive and better value for money then the previous supplier.

So the engineer arrived to install the T.V. system and Telephone socket. 20 minutes later it’s all done. “Ah but, ah but” say’s I “but what about my broadband connection”. “That will take about ten days to come through, you’ll get a letter with a code and instructions, and the following day you will receive your router then you can get reconnected to the Internet . Fortunately NTL had not pulled the plug on their broadband connection. So I was still able to communicate with the outside world.

So I wait for the equipment to arrive, which it did the day before we were due to go to Ireland. On returning from holiday I find that my broadband connection to NTL had been severed. So now I have to get to grips with this new system and get it installed on the computer.

Instruction (1). Remove items from the packaging. Do you know I think I could have figured that one out all by myself. I digress, but it reminded me of the label on a carton of tarimasu, the label was on the bottom of the carton and said “DO NOT TURN UPSIDE DOWN.” Anyway back to the unpacking.

I follow the instructions to the letter, and the wizard is there to prompt me press next etc. At the end of a sequence of instructions, I am informed you are now ready to go WIRELESS. The final instruction is “You may now remove the cable connection to your router and press next. The screen tells me congratulations you have successfully installed Wire Free technology.

This is fantastic thinks I, I’ll check for e-mails having been off line for about three days, I thought I would be inundated with mail. Of course I had forgotten that I was with a new provided. So it was a huge surprise to find that there was no mail waiting. Then I suddenly twigged on to the fact that apart from one person nobody else knew what my new address was going to be. So I’d better send a few mail shots out with the new address. Suitably composed I press SEND. To be greeted by ERROR local connection not available, retry or cancel, I’ll try the retry option. ERROR local connection is not connected to your computer. That’s strange thinks’ I, I’ll try the Internet, might as well check my bank after the holiday, pump in the required details which I know off by heart and press enter. Cannot connect to this page TRY etc etc etc.

One more try, and then the bloody laptop is going through the window. No it’s doesn’t want anything to do with E-Mails or the Internet.... Read the booklet again, turn that bloody television off and let me concentrate. I am convinced I have followed the booklet word for word, action for action, so why doesn’t it flaming well work. Right connect everything back up again and start all over, yet again.

Having now reconnected everything, would it be worth trying the Internet again? Well why the hell not thinks I. Pressing the Internet connection icon, up pop’s the Google Home page. Yep I’m in, O’bloody’ray.
Quick try the e-mail icon, yep that’s up and running too, O.K. only a couple of welcome messages from sky and one from my friend. Oh happy day’s.

Or that’s what I thought, but as soon as I had disconnected the cables. I was back to square one. But worst was still to come with the cables re-connected the computer slowed down to a snails pace. In fact it took what seemed like an eternity just to get into the start up screen. Well call me a defeatist if you will, but I put up with that for about ten days. Then during a visit to my daughters, I just happened to mention to my 13 year old grandson the problems I was encountering with the computer. Quick as a flash “you need a DONGLE granddad” say’s Matthew, “A what” say’s I. “A dongle, you put it in the back of the computer into a USB port”. I must have looked really vacant, because Matt said “it looks like a memory stick that you plug in to receive the wireless signal”.

Oh I am with you now Matt, No I don’t need one of those it’s already got one in the computer. Matt in his usual laid back manner, shrugs is shoulders ya OK granddad and walks off. Another ten days or so elapses, When my local Vicar Greg calls in to see me. Now I know he is well into computers so I tell him of my plight, and for the next hour he tried in vain to get the ruddy thing to work correctly. Do you know I still don’t know why Greg called round.

At which point the wife comes back from walking the dog, I’ve just seen the Sky engineer down the road and I’ve asked him if he could pop in and sort you out, as he only lived locally he agreed to pop in when he had finished work. True to his word at 6.15 Steve calls he must have spent all of 5 minutes with the computer and declared. “You need a wireless receiver to pick up the signal from the router to computer. What says I. A wireless receiver. I have to ask” is that per chance what is known as a Dongle”. Well yes I have heard them called that, but if you go to P.C.World and ask for a 108 net scape wireless receiver they will sort you out.

Sorry Matt. I should have listened to you, he was right all the time.

So off to P.C.World that week-end, and we are fixed up in a matter of minutes.

Right lets get this gizmo home, and put the job to bed. You will recall I said the computer was running painfully slow so I think to myself do this right Keith. Un-install what you have at the moment and create a restore point, which I did back to the 5th August, when everything was running ok. That done I try out the computer prior to re-installing the Broadband hardware yet again. Utopia every thing was fine speed back to normal. As we say in England all is fine with the world.

Right, here we go re-install. By now I know the book verbatim, the final screen you are now ready to go wireless, disconnect the lead from the router to the computer. I’ve been here before thinks I. All disconnected, reboot right. Windows is saving your settings, windows is closing down, screen goes blank, then DER DER Windows jumps back into life.

Fantastic, so we are off and running again. “Not so fast say’s the mighty God of computers; you still cannot get onto the NET or send an E-MAIL unless I say you can. Reconnect all the wires and I’ll let you in again.” But,but it’s supposed to be wireless. “Not unless I say it is”. That’s just how it felt that the powers that be, were conspiring against me.

Another few days went by, till out of the blue my eldest grandson (16) dropped in. What bring you up here unannounced, well I’m back at school tomorrow and Mum say’s your still having fun with your computer !! Now I don’t swear in front of my grandchildren, but I came very close to it on this occasion “FUN” Well granddad I ‘ll have a look at it for you if you want? “Want, be my guest son”. “Have you got your book of instructions “ asks James. Yes I have but if you want I’ll quote it to you. “No Granddad I’ll read it if you don’t mind”.

A couple of aaar’s and whooo’s later “ got it”. Got what say’s I. “I think I’ve got it” says James. Sound like a line from “MY FAIR LADY” (By George he’s got it.) and indeed he had. 9 minutes flat it had taken and I was totally wireless and logging on to the Net.

So I have come to the conclusion that I should revise my opening sentence from a modicum of intelligence. To modicum of intelligence unless it appertains to computers in which case it should read is thick and unable to comprehend the finer points of technology. Which is true, I am fine if whatever I am doing does what I expect it to do, then all is well with the world. It’s when it does something that is completely unexpected, that’s when I am at a complete loss as to what I should do next. Thank the Lord for Grand kids.

Just to rub salt into the wounds, when I asked James what he had done to make the blooming thing work. He said I read the book Granddad. Just read the book.!! Don’t you just love clever Grand kids ?

A night at the pub.

I'll share a little story that was doing the rounds awhile back as a joke. But in fact it is based on a true incident.
and this is how it goes.

Friday night was Edith's and Molly's big night of the week, it was the night out at the pub. That may not seem remarkable until you consider that both ladies are in their late eighties. Both use a zimmer frame and both are practically deaf, and literally shout at each other to communicate.

From the residential care home to the Seven Stars was just a matter of a few hundred yards, with no roads to cross, and at a steady pace it took about eight or nine minutes depending on the direction of the wind.

So of they shuffle, and on arriving at the pub :-

Molly says to Edith you go and get us a seat, and I'll get the drinks.

Edith... I don't want anything to eat, just get me a Mackason (milk stout).

Molly.... No not eat, get a seat, pointing to the tables.

With that Molly shuffles off to the bar, and Edith goes to find a seat.

Molly to the Barman,.... Two Mackasons please son.

Barman.......Certainly madam, Pours the drinks That will be £5.00 please madam.

Molly.....Pardon?

Barman.....That will be £5.00 madam, in a raised voice.

Molly, How much did you say young man?

Barman...£5.00 Louder still.

Molly... That's what I thought you said, how come we normally pay £3.80p.

Barman....Ah, well we have live entertainment on to-night.

Molly... You've got what on to-night?

Barman....Live entertainment, very loudly.

Molly... Oh, what is it?

Barman... It's a country and western group.

Molly... It's what?

Barman.... COUNTRY AND WESTERN

Molly....Oh, No need to shout.

And with that Molly shuffles off to join Edith.with bottles and glasses stuffed securely in her coat pockets.

Molly to Edith... You wont believe how much I paid for these Mackason !

Edith....What did you say?

Molly... I said you wont believe what those Mackason's cost ! loudly

Edith..... There £3.80p for two bottles.

Molly... Not tonight there not, they cost £5.00.

Edith.... THEY COST WHAT?

Molly.... £5.00.

Edith..... How come ?

Molly.... They've live entertainment on to-night.

Edith... They've got what on?

Molly... Live entertainment.

Edith....Oh, who is it?

Molly.... I don't know, it's some C*"T from Preston.!!

And a good night was had by all.

Close your mouth, your catching flies.

Grandad tell us a story Grandad. Matthew my youngest grandson was forever asking me to tell him stories about my adventures in Africa. At the time he would have been about 4/5 years of age. He would sit for hours just to listen to my many stories, and knew most of them by heart. "Tell me about the one when the snake bit you, or the one about the shark attack" In fact if it involved danger of any kind, those were the stories he would want to hear about. This continued till he had started school.

Now like any Grandad, I used to love telling him my tales. But how much of a influence I had on a young and impressionable mind I had no way of knowing, that is until I get a call from Kathleen my daughter, his mum.

The phone rings and Kath says "Dad can you come down to our place to-night". "Yes, sure what's up" I'll tell you when you get here" says Kath. So now my mind is running riot, oh God she's not pregnant again is she? Oh no I know what it will be about, James the eldest grandson, will have got his entrance exam results to go to Bolton School. Proper clever dick is our James, Takes after his Grandad. No not me t'other one.

On arriving at Kath's we are greeted with the usual do you want a drink, yes we'll both have a coffee. So off trots Kath and Joyce to the kitchen. Well it's a certainty that for whatever reason we are here for, Joyce will know long before the coffee is served up. Within a few minutes there was howls of laughter coming from the kitchen. I knew what ever it was that we had be asked to call down for wasn't that serious, or was it?

Joyce comes into the living room with the coffee, and throws me a look "oh boy are you in trouble" said Joyce. "What the heck have I done now" "I'll let Kath tell you" says Joyce.

Right Dad, (said with attitude) I went to the open day at Matthews school this afternoon, I had only just stepped through the door when Matthews teacher, sought me out. Can I have a word with you about Matthew. To add to the intrigue she showed Kath to a ante room.

The teacher told Kath that she had no idea that Matthew was so well travelled for someone so young, and to be bitten by a snake at such a young age must have been traumatic.

Sorry, says Kath but apart from the normal family holidays we haven't travelled that widely, and as for being bitten by a snake is news to me. "Well I must admit you have surprised me"said the teacher. "During Story time we can always depend on Matthew to tell us about his time in Africa".

"AFRICA Oh the penny as dropped" says Kath, It's not Matt it's my Dad that lived in Africa.

Well again you have surprised me, because when Matt tells a story it is always "I did this" and I did that, and what's more he tells it with such conviction that he his totally believable.

So I think it would be fair to say that Matt is a chip off the old block, once removed. A born story teller, the best of it is we should have known. I always said he was vaccinated with a gramophone needle. When he stayed over at the weekend, as soon as he woke he would be off "Grandad or Grandma, (whoever was nearest at the time) "did I tell you about when"..........

But as we know kids grow up, and fortunately Matt grew out of using my stories. In fact now days with MP3s and Nintendo Wii game consuls it takes him all his time to string more then a couple of sentences together. However get Matthew going with the Jokes or Impressions at which he is brilliant at, and a true comic shines through, but I would say that wouldn't I.

Though I love him dearly I think I prefered the old chatter box Matthew.