Family Tv Time

Family TV Time ©

By

Michael Casey

They used to say that the family that prayed  together stayed together, I think you can also say that the family that watches tv together stays together. In our house it is a family thing, we watch tv together. The joy of Sky+ is that you can stop tv and go make a drink and then restart it. You can go to the bathroom or answer the phone and all will be well, you won’t miss a thing, because you have a hard disc attached to the tv.

So technology allows you to stop the tv and eat as a family and then restart the tv, or watch a recording, the hard disc can hold up to 40 films and more. The act of sharing the film together, or sharing the soap together does bond the family. In the olden days, in the good old days we’d all gather around the piano and sing songs. Or when radio arrived we listen to our favourite shows, as a family.

Watching films with my Shanghai  girl brought us together, and then though her English was at first limited I knew my wife was clever because how we could talk about films. And this did in due course lead to us being married and starting a family. So tv lead to family which then led to family tv watching.

I suppose in America we’d go watch a game or  play some sport, over here we’re not as sporty, we certainly are not Australian either. So tv watching is what we all do as a nation, and in our house as well. If you have a young family as we do the tv is the reward, and education too.

So one daughter has read 100 pages for me, the other has had done her homework, so then they can have some tv. So we have a great tv package from Sky, but what do we do, we switch the tv off. I don’t miss out though as I can record was I want  and watch it out of sync later. When the homework is done then the fun can start, but for the life of me why is Peppa Pig so popular?

Snacks make an appearance, fizzy pop too, or a very occasional Stella for me, this is tv time, family time. Everybody stocks up on their favourite treat, it might be  oranges freshly cut and arranged on a plate, weird and wonderful Korean or Chinese snacks, whatever we all fancy. The wife may have bought some fancy cakes on her way back from the shops, we are almost like people at the cinema. Everybody must be the same, everybody has lcd tv nowadays, so we all sit back and enjoy the show with our snacks to hand.

Many years ago when I was single with no cares in the world I bought a fancy tv with nicam stereo,  just when it first appeared on the scene. So this was our toy and joy, after 14 or 16 years it died, so we got our flat screen tv. Which was 1/3 of the price of what I had paid for the first generation nicam stereo tv.

So in the home, as my Shanghai wife calls it, at home everybody else might say, remember prepositions are altered when English is your 2^nd language. At home we can all have a pseudo cinema experience, this is fun, just as it was in the 1960s and 1970s, when I was growing up, and family tv  watching  the norm. This I try to preserve now with my own family, switch off the family computer and let’s gather around the tv and share the viewing experience.

With young artists and musicians in the house tv watching can become noisy as we debate about this and that, and pass snacks and drinks this way and that. It’s a busy experience, but it’s a shared experience. Its Family TV Time.

Rewards(c)

Rewards ©

By

Michael Casey

Well the wife just gave me a haircut, so I’ll have to reward her, she did ask for £10, the same price as a haircut would be here in Birmingham. That defeats the purpose of saving money, but it is Shanghai logic, or is it female logic?

So how will I reward her? I may buy her a bar of chocolate in Aldi for 30p, thus still saving £9.70, or I could be generous and buy 3 bars of chocolate for 90p, then each of my 3 girls can have a bar each. I can get it on the way home from the school run, when I get some more bread. We are a bread and rice family after all.

Which brings me to chocolate, why do girls love chocolate so much, is it because it’s more reliable than men, the weaker sex. Or is chocolate a sin which doesn’t leave any regrets, 9 months later. I’ll let you ponder that yourselves.

Getting back to rewards, rewards are a good idea, you’ve cleaned the house and you want to put your feet up and ring your mates in Taiwan, well in our house anyway. So the phone call is a reward, talking is nice, even if there is a 7 hour time difference, and your friend was about to go to bed.

Sorry for the interlude, I just rewarded myself with Red Leicester on toast with a slice of ham underneath. You can use any other meat under the cheese, or even something from your local Polish Deli, see you didn’t know I’m a “chef” too.

Yes, rewards, having my reward, put me off telling you about your rewards. You can reward yourself for all things great and small. I gave myself a nice very cheap and cheerful automatic watch after I had my procedure for my hip last Autumn. I am a lover of watches after all.

Having a reward breaks up the day, a cup of green tea here, or a biscuit there. A sit in the sun enjoying your garden, watch out for those squirrels though, they are garden pirates after all.

If you are studying for those exams you must reward yourself while you revise. My nephew is revising right now for his A levels. So you put slips of paper though-out those text books, anybody remember the Abbot for Physics?  Then when you reach that slip of paper you get whatever you wrote on the slip of paper. A biscuit or a bar of chocolate, a cup of tea, and so on. For every 150 pages you read you are entitled to a reward. Don’t drown in sea of words and books, reward yourself and your mind.

My girls are not allow to play on Utube until they have given me 100 pages. Computer or TV is a reward, once the work is done, then and only then my girls get a reward. My small daughter read 6 books in the Easter holidays just gone, then she could do what she liked. For her the Dolls house is the thing she adores. She will end up as an interior designer as she changes everything so often. And her big sister will be an architect, judging by her tv viewing habits. And to think it all started as a simple reward.

So use rewards to your own advantage, to your kids advantage too, then you are motivated to do what you have to do. It’s always nicer if when you’ve done all the work you can enjoy the play. So you keep Cadburys’ Crunchies  in the fridge next to the Stella Artois. The tv remote you hide somewhere, not in the fridge but somewhere else. Then when the kids have done their homework you can all have your just rewards.

Which reminds me, it’s time for my afternoon green tea, it isn’t a reward, it’s more like hard work, but it’s good for me. Or maybe I'll get my reward in Heaven

Paper Book Writer

Paper Book Writer ©

By

Michael Casey

I closed my Linkedin  yesterday, I’ll be back there when I’ve got more to say. As luck would have it as one door closed another opened. Amazon sent me a mail about Paper Book Writing, sounds like a Paul McCartney song fest so far.

As you know I do have 7 books on Amazon Kindle already and I had been sharing my gems with folks on Linkedin. So what Amazon offered is of interest to me, no fee setup for print on demand. Basically you upload your book and they do the rest. Its print on demand, no pile of books waiting to be remaindered, or sent to book heaven at the Works.

You can get your fingers burnt if you go the self-publish route, Amazon’s way you just collect the rewards, assuming folks like your book. Modern printing technology means Amazon can print what’s ordered and away you go. Their story is about a meter reader who has also sold a few thousand books, and no his name is not Rita, but I’m sure he’s lovely.

I mentioned this to my girls, so I said they could do the front covers, that was last night. This morning they descended to breakfast with A3 artists’ pads already with their designs. Now that is both touching, and wonderful. I had to get them to take their pads off the breakfast coffee table we use, or eggs and margarine stains would have been all over their designs.

Small daughter did The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker design, and big sister did 300 and Not OUT cover design.  I was really pleased with the results. They may only be 10 and 12 but their art skills are already fantastic. If Paul McCartney wants a cover design for his next album please get in touch.

I had to explain that our scanner only went up to A4, so the girls wiped away the egg and margarine from their faces, then reduced their designs to A4 on fresh paper. This was an intense period of creativity, so while the girls sustained themselves with the last of the Easter eggs, mum was talking to grannie in Shanghai, and I was entering the book details on Amazon’s  Create Space.

One book is 616 pages in pdf and the other is 400 odd pages, so once they are all uploaded in a day or so you can all see the girls’ artistic designs. If you remember the Tom Sharpe book covers then their designs are similar to that.

There are 5 other books that I could upload, so let’s see how my big ones go down first. 1000 pages of me may be enough to start with, there are maybe 1100 more pages of my stuff, my writing.

So this has been the Casey family activity for today, Arthur hasn’t been too bad today either, Arthur is the name I give to my arthritis. After today  I’ll just say Arthur, and assume you all know what I’m talking about.

I will try and add my girls’ designs to the end of this post, so you know what you are all looking for on Amazon. Then I’ll really be a paperback writer.

https://www.createspace.com/pub/simplesitesearch.search.do?sitesearch_query=+mr+michael+g+casey&sitesearch_type=STORE

to buy my print books on Paper

www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Tent Poles ©

By

Michael Casey

The girls came back from their aunty’s with a car boot full of treasure, so I unloaded it before with a double hoot my sister drove away. Amongst the treasure was a flat packed tent in a plastic bag.

It’s been sunny in Birmingham this Easter so obviously the girls wanted to try out the tent. So I unsealed the plastic bag, and threw away the instructions, doesn’t everybody? The tent was an igloo kind of design, there were plastic tubes that were ready for the tent poles,

The tent poles were more like the equipment Bruce Lee used to use, you know the sticks with chains attached. Though they were like giant chop sticks, with elastics holding them together and with a bit of metal too.

So I thought all I had to do was to thread through the 4 feet of elastic and chopsticks and then the tent would be ready. So I started in the middle and then tried to thread the poles through. I tried it this way then that way, and it was no use. The chop stick like poles wouldn’t and couldn’t  fit.

So what do you do in these circumstances? You try and find where the instructions were, the wind having blown them to the bottom of the garden where the squirrels lived. Perhaps if I gave some nuts or breakfast cereals to the squirrels they would explain how to erect a tent.

I looked at the pictograph and still could not work it out. So I went and had a cold drink before inspiration struck. Instead of starting from the middle and doing the splits all I needed to do as start at one corner and go diagonally over the middle and down the other side like a roller coaster.

Success, I did a lap of honour, the squirrels chattered, what an idiot this human was, obviously I didn’t eat enough nuts, I could hear them say.  Then it was just a matter of starting in the other corner and threading the pole though to the middle and down again like a roller coaster again.

The girls leapt for joy and hugged their fat panda like dad, I could not do kung fu, but I had threaded the kung fu fighting sticks, they had a tent and I WAS their panda like dad.

The girls gathered their books and used the tent as a reading room, the library is at the bottom of our street after all. Blankets and cushions were added to it. I went inside with a dad smile on my lips, this is what being a dad is all about, priceless, though sometimes useless as the squirrels might say.

The girls stayed in the tent all afternoon, bringing their cheap and cheerful tablet outside to the tent, Utube in the garden. Me, I retreated to the PC, see how many more people I could annoy on Linkedin. I had taken loads of photos of my tent puzzle, so I posted them on Linkedin, somebody said he expected a story, and yes right now a day later I’m writing it.

Later as the chill descended I brought the tent inside still with the poles in it. I placed it on the floor of a bedroom. So the girls ransacked the wardrobes for pillows and set up their next palace. The squirrels watched from the trees in the garden, at least the human’s small offspring were not as stupid as him.

Today we hung out he washing, this was my excuse for not bringing down the tent. The tent stayed upstairs on the bedroom floor. Like a tent for Bedouins tribesmen or Eskimos, either or, I’m not sure which.

The girls stayed there reading books and watching Utube. Perhaps they even watched Panda videos on the tablet. As for the squirrels they debated what washing was, a series of tents maybe? 

The Last Word

The Last Word ©

By

Michael Casey

In the Beginning was the Word, Let there be Light. If those are the 1^st words, what will the last word be? Who put out the Lights, perhaps.  Why do people want the Last Word? He who laughs last, laughs longest. Now that’s more to my way of thinking.

Success is the best Revenge are words that I like, and hope to live, in due course. You are just a burnt out has been are words I’ve heard in the past. Though the person who said them was last seen scavenging from a waste bin in the confines on the cathedral in Birmingham.

So what is it with words, they do have power, the power of love, and Love Does Conquer All as my mum once said. Its 18 years since she went to make the tea in Heaven. So it must be God alone knows when she actually said those words. You are as good as anybody are other words she used, and yes she was right, we her children did achieve, and over achieve too.

But why do some people think the Last Word is the best word. Because it isn’t.  The best words are the right words, the right words you give to give people courage. England expects that every man does his duty, Nelson flagged those words to the fleet, and we beat the French, again.

We shall fight them on the beaches, Churchill spoke those words, England really did have its back against the wall, but by words and action the mad and evil Nazis were beaten. Words do offer courage, we have all seen the Kings Speech now. And we all now have such deep deep appreciation for all the Queen Mum did behind the scenes.

So why do some think having the last word is so important. Lack of education maybe? Words are explosives and should be used with due caution. A kind word can save a life, or propel somebody to their life’s dream or vocation. Just a few simple words can and do make a difference. Yes words, prayers DO work, so don’t be too arrogant to think that prayer is a waste of time, I know from experience  prayer has worked. That’s why I have a wife and  kids.

Do you need the last word? No. A boxer may need the last punch to win the bout. The last word no. Don’t waste your words on people who are not worth your breath or spit as the Chinese say. Save your words for nurturing things, the last word tends to be about arguments.

If people want last words, let them say that what you do, or make IS the last word in fashion, in industry, in ideas etc. Then last  the word IS worth remembering. 

Splish Splasjh in my Bath

Splish Splash in my Bath ©

By

Michael Casey

In the bath we are all alone with our thoughts, just me or you in the bath lying there soaking. We lie there like a hippo, water all around us, lapping at the edge of the bath, occasionally bursting over the top onto the bathroom floor.

The bath is a place of peace, and hot water, provided the wife isn’t washing the dishes while you are washing  your tum and all other parts. So it’s a rush to fill the bath before the wife fills the washing up bowl in the kitchen sink.

Otherwise we lie there with just our thoughts for company as we feel the warmth of the water. Lotions and potions are stolen from the wife’s collection of this and that. Competing smells waft around the bath and into the air in the bathroom. You turn a different shade of pink, your toes and fingers turn into prunes.

Sometimes you bring in a radio for company and music, as you soak the steams runs down the tiles in the bathroom, and steams up the bathroom window.

You drift to different places in your mind as you are entombed in the warmth of the bath. You are back in the womb, secure and warm and listening to music.  A baby can hear in the womb before birth, now you imitate that again. The radio blares out and you sing along.

Why do we sing in the bath? In the old days it was because there was no lock on the door, now it’s because we are free, free to be ourselves in the bath. I of course sing “If I were a Rich Man” going my best Topol impersonation.

Dreams visit us in the bath, we are relaxed and clean. We may even shave while in the bath, so from head to toe we are clean warm and relaxed. Clean feet do make all the difference, we sigh and clean between all our toes. Now we understand why the Romans enjoyed Bath and baths so much.

A bath as big as a small swimming pool, or even a swimming pool itself would be so nice, we muse as we close our eyes as we listen to Peter Gabriel singing Steam. If only we had some money we sigh as we break into “If I were a Rich Man”  again, Topol seems to return whenever we are in the bath.

Dreams  appear and spiral into the air along with the steam, we are in our own private world without distractions to attract our eye. Just the white of the bathroom, the white and the purity of our dreams. We top up the hot water, and sink lower into the suds of the wife’s bubble bath.

Gentle relaxing bath, a gentleman’s way to wash. Showers are for kids, for haste, for Americans. For those who claim they are saving water, but wasting tranquility. That’s what it’s all about really, a bath is not just for washing, it’s for inner peace. 

Girls gone shopping

Girls Gone Shopping©

By

Michael Casey

I get left abandoned at home every now and then, today was another occasion, I was home alone and enjoying it. The wife had to buy ingredients for big daughter’s school cookery lesson. Small daughter wanted to come too. So she had just come home from school with me, now she was going out with mum and big sister. A kind of invisible revolving door.

This means I get to bring the  washing in and spread it on all the radiators around the house, while they drive off laughing . It also means I can watch the news in peace and quiet. For me watching the news may mean 2 to 3 hours a day scattered throughout the entire day, on PC too, while I write.

At the shops they all may speak Chinese, mainly Shanghai dialect, just so nobody can understand them. Big daughter at 5feet 3 or is it 4 is already taller than mum. And spookily looks exactly like me, as I was, though with female features. Small daughter looks like mum, the gene pool split both ways. Though we hope small daughter grows taller than mum, just so we can call mum “Titch”.

I look at news on BBC and SKY, plus DT and Daily Mail and a quick browse of other newspapers. Meanwhile the girls are browsing the rails in Asda and Matalan, 3 pretty girls in the house, Fashion rears its head and screams “BUY ME”.

I have a cup of green tea to go with my news browsing, them, they have a pit stop at Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Afterwards I put some frozen food in the oven to bake while I write. I do throw in some cloves of garlic, as its good for me, I also ready the sweet corn and a slice or two of brown bread. I can almost hear my small daughter belching from afar, fizzy pop treat to blame. Normally they are on Shanghai diet 95% of the time.

A new top is required for big daughter, small daughter is jealous when she does not get one too. So she gets pink trainers instead. Mix and match your daughters. Me I gave up clothes shopping years ago, I used to just hand my debit card over, now the wife can use her own card, and have the girls in toe.  They have more fun that way, and U get a bit of piece, I don’t have to share the family computer either. Perfect Peace.

I am about to finish my latest story when I can hear the car pull up outside the house.  The sound of laughter and high heels proceeds them, the front  door is flung open, and the girls are back from town.  Noise and laughter fills the house, as I hit save. I’ve written a new piece and they have returned with food and garments.

I try and salvage some scraps from the treats they have had, if only it’s a lick of the paper bag that once had cream cakes in. I turn the bag inside out to lick off the last of the fake real fresh cream, naughty but nice as Salmond Rushdie wrote when he was a copywriter.

They are back full of noise and laughter, I look this way and that as they show me their treasure. In return I read out my latest story and see if they like it, though it has to compete with new clothes and cheese and onion crisps. So I put the kettle on, this time for hot chocolate for all of us.  The family is together again.

10 years ago

Dreams 2014

Dreams 2014 ©

By

Michael Casey

I had a very vivid dream last night,  it may have been two dreams even. Dreams are the mind’s way of sorting out all our daytime activity, they can also amuse and/or   frighten.  They say that without REM sleep our bodies suffer. Well worth a google or two.

We can dream of our dream house, my small daughter sometimes dreams of a big house and a cat and a dog. I’ve told them if ever I sell any books we’ll have that house plus a pet. My daughter draws pictures of the dream house and a cat on the roof. Perhaps I’ve brain washed her.

You can have nightmares too, which are so much more than bad dreams, you can wake up screaming. Too much feta cheese or Greek cheese can make your mind go into overdrive. So if you watch that late night horror movie, when you go to bed you will be IN that horror movie.

Inside a dream you cannot escape, it’s like being in a prison cell with no way out, so what happens? You rock and roll and the killer with the gun is chasing you. You start to moan in your sleep, your REM is in overdrive, like a ping pong ball being hit and returned by the Chinese world champions.

You sit up in bed suddenly, and lash out with your hands, trying to knock the gun from your attacker’s hand. Only you send your mug of cocoa flying off the bedside table. You look around like a tortoise poking its head out after the Winter hibernation.  You  yarn then fall back into the comfort of the pillows.

You return to your slumbers, the gunman has evaporated into the mists of sleep. You cuddle your pillows, and wallow like a hippo in the comfort of your bed. The gunman is dead for tonight, though your blood or rather your cocoa is all over the bedroom carpet.

photo is my pretentious writer's pose