Dropped my mobile into a jar of mayonnaise this morning .......f ucking hellman
Do any of you dog people know anything about Scottish Deerhounds, we're planning on a couple of pups .... or Irish Wolfhounds?
We thought we'd have a pair, from different litters, so we can breed them and sell the pups to recover the cost.
They're around £1500 each so there's quite an outlay ...... we'd like them to live in one of the stables and have the run of the place.
Just like we all did mate, Paper Round, Milk Round, Tattie Picking, Flogging Coal round the doors, all that good stuff. My old man used to even make me follow the rag and bone man round the estate to pick the **** up off the horse so he could make manure for his frigging rosesImagine asking a kid to do that these days, Social Services would have a field day eh? but I guess that's what makes us what we are today unlike some of the kids coming through now. They don't know they're born, **** me!!! i'm even sounding like my old man now
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Do any of you dog people know anything about Scottish Deerhounds, we're planning on a couple of pups .... or Irish Wolfhounds?
We thought we'd have a pair, from different litters, so we can breed them and sell the pups to recover the cost.
They're around £1500 each so there's quite an outlay ...... we'd like them to live in one of the stables and have the run of the place.
That brings back memories for me.
When I was a kid in Leadgate I got a job with Tommy Southern who was the local rag & bone man ..... horse & cart, balloons for the kids
The two main responsibilities of my position were, firstly to jump off and retrieve any scrap at the side of the road.
Secondly, to mind the horse and put his nosebag on while Tommy had his bait in the Hat & Feathers.
He was a true gentleman and respected throughout the area ..... I'll never forget him.
Great believer in not taking things to the grave with you ,Mike and the mechanics track ;
Every generation
Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations
Come beating on your door
I know that I'm a prisoner
To all my father held so dear
I know that I'm a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him
In the living years
Crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I'm afraid that's all we've got
You say you just don't see it
He says it's perfect sense
You just can't get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defence
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
It's the bitterness that lasts
So don't yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different day
And if you don't give up,
And don't give in
You may just be OK
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
I wasn't there that morning
When my father passed away
I didn't get to tell him
All the things I had to say.
I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I'm sure I heard his echo
In my baby's new born tears
I just wish I could have told him
In the living years
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
I've written this post out at least 4 times now and just keep deleting it.
The truth is I've written it out in my head a million times in my life and just kept deleting it.
Good topic Smug. Men often keep this sort of stuff bottled up, you don't know who you might have helped with this one.
Great believer in not taking things to the grave with you ,Mike and the mechanics track ;
Every generation
Blames the one before
And all of their frustrations
Come beating on your door
I know that I'm a prisoner
To all my father held so dear
I know that I'm a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him
In the living years
Crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I'm afraid that's all we've got
You say you just don't see it
He says it's perfect sense
You just can't get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defence
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
It's the bitterness that lasts
So don't yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different day
And if you don't give up,
And don't give in
You may just be OK
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
I wasn't there that morning
When my father passed away
I didn't get to tell him
All the things I had to say.
I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I'm sure I heard his echo
In my baby's new born tears
I just wish I could have told him
In the living years
Say it loud, say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
Great post mateI was brought up by my grandparents until I was around 13. So my grandad was essentially my dad.
To put it into perspective. My dad got Mum pregnant. This was back in 1966. My grandparents never approved of mum as she was one of eight kids brought up in a council house in Hertford. Ironically both my grandparents were also brought up in council houses. Bottom line is that they probably thought she’d trapped him.
My dad is an only child. This is important as my grandparents always wanted more than one but for whatever reason couldn’t.
Anyway mum and dad got married and five months later I arrive on the scene along with mums PND.
About three weeks later it was ‘suggested’ by my grandparents to my mum and dad that I should stay with them in Sunderland for a few weeks whilst mum got better and that I’ll go back to Hertford later. That ‘later’ turned into 13 years later. So essentially my grandad was my father figure.
My mum and dad moved to Sunderland to be closer to me and to facilitate me moving back with them but knowing what I know now that was never going to happen in the short term as my grandparents got the second child they always wanted and were determined to keep me. They would always find reasons not to give me back. I saw my mum and dad regularly every week in fact and it must’ve been eating them up inside having to leave me.
Having spoken to other relatives, they all knew what was happening. In retrospect some have said that they should have stepped in and stopped it but they never did. I guess that’s something they will have to live with.
I was very close to my grandad and was devastated when he died. To me he was a big giant of a man. He never laid a finger on me. He was my dad and I loved him. But he and my grandmother were very strong forceful personalities. Generally what they wanted they got and they didn’t care who they upset to get it and that included their only son. I know that my grandmother would tell people that my mum was mentally deranged and that’s why I lived with them. They even said that they would take my parents through every court to prove they were unfit to keep me.
I made the decision to live with my mum and dad when I was 13. I knew that they were good people and that I should live with them. I have a great relationship with my dad and always have. But he often tells me that allowing what happened is a source of ongoing shame for him. I’ve never blamed him for it and never will. He and my mum were up against two very strong willed people and they just didn’t know or have the skills to deal with it.
I have a son now who is nearly 20. Me and Mrs EJK have tried to bring him up well. Before he left home to join the Navy we told him every day that we loved him. He’s turned into a lovely young man. It’s a shame that my dad wasn’t able to share that with me.
So in short, I love my dad. I may not have had the relationship I should have had with him but he’s a good man.
Jeeez, well that was a bit cathartic typing out that.
Great post mate
Sounds like our dads were very much alike. My dad mellowed in his later years and was a far better grandad than he was a dad. The pit also killed him in the end with lung disease a major factor, but I had already made my peace with him before that....... what is the one thing you would say to him, whether he's alive or not?
My Dad was a terrible man .... a hard drinker who'd fight anyone for the price of a pint and worked in the pits 'til he was my age.
He broke my nose with a great right hander, always gave me a hard time and never showed me any affection.
But, I've come to realise that he was conditioned by his upbringing just as I was with mine.
He died from pneumoconiosis, pitman's lung, and never complained ....... just like many others.
If I could have him here for one day, to see what I've done, I'd hug him and tell him I love him.
He was a right hard sod to me, but now I realise that he had it much tougher than I ever will.