Giving Advice

Giving Advice (c)
By
Michael Casey

I was talking to a friend today and they confided in me, so in order to give them some advice I in turn had to confided in them. This is how advice works at the best level. None of us like to be told what to do, but if we share experiences then we are more likely to listen.Life is make it up as you go along, there are no rules, same as love has no rules. If you both like it then do it.

If you are afraid of something you will avoid situations and so limit yourself and your life, because of fear. As Churchill said we have nothing to fear but fear itself. So if you are afraid of spiders you may never go in the old storeroom again, so you get your friend to go in there for you. But what happens when your friend is not there and you need the extra chairs stored there for your cafe? So will listen to their advice about which spider spray to use, or you'll train the cat to eat the spiders that you are so afraid of. Then you can have a fuller life fetching chairs.

This is obviously a simple example about communication and how to face your fears. The thing bout fears is that they do have to be faced. You may have been mugged up that dark alley but it is your route home, so what do you do? You may find a longer route how to avoid it, or go home in a group, take turns with your local martial arts guy guiding you part the way home. Again another simple solution.

The thing about getting advice you listen more if there is a connection with the person giving you the advice. People listen less to their priest because he doesn't know about getting drunk on a Friday night and seeing this girl or boy you fancy. He knows less about temptation because he is safe in bed with his cocoa while you are out dancing and prancing.

So disaster strikes, and you are left pregnant with a baby. So if you are a school girl who would you listen to the priest,or the girl who learnt the hard way. The girl has experience and pain on her side, so hopefully in secondary school the girls would listen to her advice. Don't drink, do use contraception, have a sober friend to watch over you. There is a difference between sex and love. Now would you listen to the girl or the priest, or sister Agnes is she was giving that week's morality talk? I think the voice of experience always wins. But it is always far better if you have your own common sense.

Sometimes you have peer pressure, and the answer to peer pressure, is always____ --- or other such language. You have to be strong enough to say NO to whatever it is. Sometimes its emotional blackmail from your own family members, you should look after granny or the cat or the farm, or whatever. IF this thing would hurt you in any way, emotionally or physically or spiritually. Then you have to build a wall around you and say NO. You have to protect yourself first before you can interact with anybody and anything. When you are happy and secure in yourself then you can think about helping others. Everything starts with self then radiates outwards, self is the foundation, and if the foundation is weak then the walls of self fall over. You cannot help anybody if you are not strong in yourself. And if you are strong and you still don't want to look after your nan's dog or your sister's ex-husband she feels guilty about. THEN JUST DO NOT DO IT.

Once you are strong and healthy in yourself then you can think about teaching Albanian to Trappist monks or whatever your speciality is. But if you are too weak don't weaken yourself even more just out of some misplaced sense of duty or guilt. You do things because you a re strong enough to do them and because YOU WANT TO. Same as mentioned earlier on a Friday night, you made love to that boy because he was nice and you think you loved him, not because you could. Fresh Cream Cakes are Naughty but Nice as Salmon Rushdie  wrote in his copyrighter's days BUT we have to learn to control our urges or we will be forever  fat.

Love yourself first, then you can love others, but we are only one, then with love we become two and together two can create families. But everything should be done with love not fear, and if you remember that then you will not go far wrong.  As somebody once said in All Things Love. And never accept any other request.

GCSE Exam Results 2017

My daughter  got 3 A stars, 4 As, and 4 Bs

A stars in Maths, Geography, and English language

A  in  Further Maths, Spanish, Chemistry and RE

B  in Biology, Psychology , English  Lit and Physics

this is her below with her caring dad, come back in 2 years for more results, and in 8 years  hopefully she'll be Doctor Casey MD

p.s. she discovered later today that one more mark would have turned her Physics  into an A

in the future she will be Dr Casey MD

As I walk out this Mid-Summer Morning

As I Walk Out This Mid-Summer Morning ©

By

Michael Casey

I was walking up the road this morning, looking left and right and up and down and all around. Just in case the North Korean hit man is after me, but I am protected by a cloak of stupidity, so I’m not afraid. I try and be observant as I walk about, you never know what you might see, and an idea might present itself. The observant amongst you will have spotted a Laurie Lee homage in my title, do read his book, remembering from school it was a great read, as was his Cider with Rosie, but don’t get drunk till after you finished reading.

I see a sight and a seed appears in my mind, all I need is a mustard seed and then I have 1000 words, as I’ve no doubt told you before. Today we have the corner shop fruit stall outside the Halal butchers, I am tempted to give the stall-holder a spare pair of my sunglasses as he is always in the sun. My friend the lolly pop man has disappeared, we both had had bypasses, but now the road is fixed and a new zebra crossing is installed he has been bypassed, by a green icon, and not the Jolly Green Man from sweetcorn. As my dad said 30 years ago Automation Will Ruin the World, in this  case a lolly pop man replaced by a flashing green man.

They were painting the Christian Cafe, perhaps adding lions all around, it turned out they had installed double glazing upstairs, though they did have a scaffolding tower. In my imagination it was a circus performance or the high diving board, maybe I should not watch Madagascar 3 too many times, but it is great. The reality was a local estate agent watching proceedings, maybe there is an upper room above the Christian Cafe, who knows what happens there.

Further up the road my pharmacist was closed, he has Wednesday afternoons off, he does work Saturday after all. He is a great pharmacist and a very good golfer. Maybe one day he’d have a round with Trump. I continued up the road try not to be killed as I cross on suicide corner, its very dangerous there, there used to be a refuge for pedestrians, now there is not.

Though the local undertaker is conveniently situated, and the church too. We have 6 churches I believe, even a talk to the dead church as well, we even get the mad people church people knocking on our doors too. They don’t knock on my door any more, perhaps it was something I said or was it something in the way I moved, or was it the Websters in my hand. It’ a dictionary for all you USA readers out there. The pen, the word IS mightier than a sword after all. So I could have frightened them off by my words, or maybe the way I look.

Further up the street we have acupuncture sessions advertised on one of the church railings, pain and praise the lord perhaps. I know a lot about pain, but I did have acupuncture 5 years ago and it worked. But I I stand too close to my Shanghai wife she may prick me with her chopsticks, which would be equally as good.

I pass the furniture shop and see the SALE, why do furniture shops always have sales, and what is the real price of anything in a store. I think furniture stores are a cross between Rubic’s Cubes and Random Number Theory. If your child gets a 9 in tomorrow’s results then only she can explain it, because I cannot. Furniture costs whatever the inside leg measurement of the salesman multiplied by his shoe size is, plus his wife’s age and the size of the mother in law’s behind. If you can equate that formula then you know just how much anything costs in a furniture store.

I stumble past all our fast food outlets, I just cannot believe there is a market for so much chips. England’s gift to world cuisine, chips and fries, and heart disease. The faint echo of cheering escapes the bookie shops we have, I cannot believe there is a market for so much gambling. Though looking about me, maybe gambling is the only way out. Which reminds me I must buy a 2 quid lottery ticket, the sum total of my own spasmodic gambling.

I get to the park and sit and rest and think if only, if only, if I won the lottery I’d be walking different roads and talking about different views. I’d have a dog called Camembert with a great sense of smell and I’d hide things for him to find. After my rest I return home doing my shopping along the way. Three months of fancier food is so much nicer and we’ll see tomorrow when the results arrive has it helped with my daughter’s grades. Tonight in anticipation we had sausage and chips from the local chippy, see we know how to push the boat out.

So this has been my Mid-Summer Walk, I hope you get a better picture of my life here as a Fool on a Hill, I am no Poet like Laurie Lee, but my neighbour does play the violin just like him.  

   

Invitation to the Flu

How do you know you are old and clapped out?

You get an invitation to the Flu clinic.

But at least it proves our NHS is good.

Stay happy I'll write something new later on.

Hello to Ukraine and Philippines  either you are hackers checking me out or priests, I'd just say anybody can have lots of books on Amazon, IT DOES NOT MEAN YOU MAKE ANY MONEY, and I don't have an American Express card either.

I get so much junk email which is deleted unopened.

I am so poor I'll be cremated in the dustbin in the back garden or a supermarket trolley.

Hasta Luego  and Totoro our cat says miaow

p.s. Read the Don Camillo books,some are online.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLf6VQyJJkE  and a film too

My Wedding Day yes for real it went this way

Now my Wedding Day is probably the most "different" ever.

It started at our house and then William PhD and his  beach life saver wife picked us up and took us to the Register Office.

The Registrar was  the sister of the guy I worked with in a dungeon of a computer room, perhaps even built on a graveyard.

My friend from grammar school signed the register as a witness, he was a PhD too. My brother was the 2nd signature.

We then went to my sisters for a reception. William PhD was a PhD in metallurgy so meeting my dad was a thrill for him, because my dad was a Blacksmith and worked in a steel works.

After the reception we went around the corner to my house, where friends had left 2 bunches of flowers on our doorstep.

There we chilled for a few hours, my Chinese wife now had a new name, Mrs Casey. Then we went to MacDonalds for burger and chips, we met my friend the PhD, he and my wife did Chemical equations on the napkins, both my new wife and   my friend were Chemists.

Then we went to the music pub and the back of Broad St, it used to be owned by members of the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. There we joined the 25th year class reunion of my grammar school. So we had a few beers and met a few friends.

I even met one of my old postmen, he thought it was funny, a wedding and a reunion in one day. I told him I had been Shanghaied, the wife is from Shanghai after all.

Then we went home. Now we have 2 bilingual daughters who both have a good sense of humour.

Father Michael S.J. a story from a long time ago for lonely priests everywhere

 I found this by accident as I tidied up tonight.... It may be 6 or even 20 years old

                                           Father Michael S.J. ©

                                                     By

                                             Michael Casey

            Michael just loved Louise to bits but sadly she did not love him , as she kept on telling him . She was waiting for her dream man , but sadly he would never appear , so Michael had to look elsewhere for a home for his love . So as he was beginning to learn Italian he thought what if . What if he went to Rome , to the English College and trained for the priesthood , at least his Italian would come in handy . Besides he just loved gossip and the confessional was the perfect place to pick up hot juicy gossip . Then just think of it once he got back to England and a Parish of his own he’d have a housekeeper , no more vacuum-cleaning for him, and then he’d be invited out to people’s homes , so he’d never have to live off frozen food and a cold life again . The more he thought about it , the more the idea appealed to him , yes he’d go off to Rome and train for the priesthood . There was the question of sex of course , but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it . There would always be a caring woman , even if they didn’t  actually have sex , it would be a kind of relationship of sorts , so he wouldn’t be lonely , he was very talkative after all , he’d soon make friends of all sorts . He could be discrete when he had to be after all .

          So Michael started learning Italian , the book said put on a fake Italian accent and mimic the tapes , he did feel a fool  but  if that was the way to learn then that’s what he’d do . Good job nobody could see him as he first pretended to be the “Godfather” and then Don Camillo . It was a sing-song kind of accent , up and down like a merry-go-round , but without the dizzy sensation . He did four half hour lessons over the weekend , if it wasn’t fun he’d be bored , so by using the little often method he was soon feeling comfortable with Italian .

           Rome was nice , it always felt warm , well compared to Birmingham anyway .

Michael’s Italian wasn’t really needed as he was at the English College after all , but once lessons were over he’d put some jeans on with an old tee shirt too , he ditched the shirt and tie the first week he was there , it was just too hot . So jeans and tee shirt was his off duty “uniform” , wandering around Rome was educational , everything seem vibratant , the accent was funny at first , but after a month it no longer made him smile , they really did speak like that , a sing song language , like birds twittering on trees . The prostitutes were also notable by their beauty , if they were so pretty surely they didn’t need to sell their bodies , but it was the oldest profession in the world , with story telling being the second oldest profession , no doubt spilling the beans on who’d done what with whom . The girls grew to recognise Michael , they called him a faggot at first when he turned down their offers of sex , until finally he told them he was training for the priesthood . He was just sight seeing , the “girls” hung out at the popular sights , eager to pick up passing custom , so while Michael sat by the Trevi Fountain , and the Colluseum , and other popular places he’d see faces again and again . So soon he’d get a nod and a wink from the girls as they waited for custom . He also saw them at early Sunday Mass , they were still good Catholic girls after all .It was while he was sitting next to the Trevi fountain that he met Maria , she was an Irish nun from Kerry . So Michael told her that his family were Kerry people too , that broke the ice so they soon became firm friends . It was very humid that night , so Maria took off her veil , only for her long red hair to come tumbling down . Michael groaned inwardly , he just loved red hair , his lusts soon surfaced . They went and had a few wines before saying their goodbyes , not before arranging to meet again . So it soon became  a regular feature , Maria would finish at the children’s home and meet him at 9pm at the Trevi fountain . Soon she stopped wearing a veil , just a teeshirt and a skirt . Michael’s lusts just grew and grew , and just when he thought they couldn’t get any bigger they got bigger still .”You know I used to dream of meeting a redhead , before I decided to give my love to God “ he explained . “And I just love big shoulders on a man” came the reply . Neither of them could stop themselves , so soon they were kissing . Several of Michael’s prostitute friends applauded amongst the crowd , one even came up and gave him the key to her flat . Michael looked at Maria and Maria looked at Michael . Inside five minutes they were in bed , having torn the clothes off each other . Celibacy would have to take a back seat from now on . Maria’s tee shirt was torn in two , Michael’s was in tatters too , as for the zip on his trousers , well that was just broken asunder . Their passions spent Michael went through the wardrobe until he found two new teeshirts .

               Making their way back to the Trevi fountain they were affraid to look each other in the eye . Michael handed back the key to one of the girls , Antoinette wasn’t there but Julia promised to return the key . “Nice tee shirts “ she said  her hand in front of her mouth hiding  a smile . Michael and Maria parted , Maria had broken her vows , and Michael would have broken his if he’d had taken them yet . At least Maria wouldn’t be pregnant , her boyfriend had ditched her for being infertile , so she ran away and became a nun , working with children , because she couldn’t have any of her own she loved them the more . As for Michael at least he hadn’t used a condom , so he hadn’t broken another  old fashion Catholic law , so his conscience was at least clear on that count . As for the sex , well that was fantastic , though he wouldn’t mention it to Monsignor Ryan his tutor .

            So it soon became a regular fixture , Michael and Maria would meet by the fountain and one of the prostitutes would hand Michael the key to her flat . The lust was up to Michael and Maria . Eventually as the months passed the girls had a spare key made , so Michael ended up with twenty keys on a big chain , he sounded like a Jailor as he walked the keys jangling . Rather than a priest who should have the sound of clicking as he walks , the sound of rosary beads rattling . The years rolled by , the girls came to him for spiritual advice , his only advice was use a condom , don’t catch any diseases from your clients , they are clients and you are the client service . He also tried to remind them about the difference between love and sex . Some of the girls did have boyfriends and husbands after all . Sometimes selling your body is the only answer if you have mouths to feed and bills to pay . Michael never saw things in black and white any more , there were always shades of grey .” God is merciful “, is what he always said when he finished talking to the girls The time came for Michael’s ordination , and Maria said the sex must stop , she was returning to England and she wouldn’t tell him where . Once he took his vows he must return to celibacy . She would not lead him astray , yes she’d broken her vows , but that was different , she wasn’t going to help him break his . Michael couldn’t understand the logic . He said he’d not take his vows , but she insisted as did the prostitutes , he would make a good preacher and confessor , he had the gift of listening , of not being judgemental , he would make a good priest , his mind was open . But Maria’s legs were closed , and crossed . There would be no sex , he would just have to accept it . There would never be a relationship either , so he had to become a priest . If only Louise had fallen in love with him he wouldn’t be in this predicament , but it was because Louise turned him down that he had come to Rome and it was in Rome where he met Maria . A redhead called Maria , who really did love him and fullfilled all his dreams and fantasies , and he hers .

            God it wasn’t fair . So Michael was ordained , with twenty prostitutes looking on , he couldn’t invite them as his personal guests , but they were there in the church looking on . Barry and Steve had flown over from Birmingham to watch the ceremony , they hadn’t the heart to tell Michael that Aston Villa were playing Roma in some football competition , that was the real reason they were there . But the three of them got pissed together after the ceremony , with Michael’s “girls”  joining in the fun . So Michael was now Father Michael S.J. , so soon he’d return to England and his new parish . The first thing he did was go back to “Stats” and say mass for them in the production office . If they knew what he’d been up too they’d all condemn him , all except his true friends . And if they knew the stories the carpet tiles could tell , beneath their very feet . A lot happens on a weekend night shift in the 70s and 80s , the Trevi Fountain was not the only place where things happen !

             So Michael was given his Parish , it was in the Black Country just outside Birmingham , it was the Parish of The Blacksmith and Singing Anvil , next to an old steel works , it was actually called Saint Judes . Michael was depressed , he still loved Maria , he should have never become a priest , but there was a shortage , and they had to work till at least 75 , thats why late vocations were allowed . So he fervently prayed for guidance , Saint Jude is the patron saint of the impossible , so anything was possible . Then one day Mrs Murphy came for confession , she was a good talker and he was a good listener , so eventually he told her his confession . She was shocked at first but then she told him about her Patrick . Patrick had been heartbroken when the girl of his dreams left him . But one day when the RSPCA came to pick up a stray dog hadn’t the RSPCA man been a woman , and hadn’t  it been love at first sight , even though Patrick had smelt like a poof . Patrick had smelt like a poof because his friend Amjit had made him a curry , no ordinary curry but one called “Calcutta Surprize” , because it caught you unawares . So Patrick had to shower repeatedly because of the surprize , and he ended up smelling like a poof and when Patrick had tried to explain to June , that was the RSPCA man’s or rather woman’s name she thought that Amjit was his boyfriend , and not just a friend , and that “Calcutta Surprize” was some form of gay sex act , and not a curry. Anyway Mrs Murphy’s tale had made Michael laugh , so as there was no more people to confess the pair went and had a cuppa in the presbetory . The long and the short of it was that Patrick got June pregnant , and June had been saving herself . But it was the will of God so Mrs Murphy was happy , besides Patrick was 30 and it least it proved that he wasn’t really a poof !

             The next day Maria arrived , Mrs Murphy knew what true love was , and she knew Maria because she worked at the children’s home , you see Patrick was given a penance by the priest for getting June pregnant before marriage , the penance was to raise money for the children’s home . The very home where Maria had fled to , when she decided to end her relationship with Michael , who says that life isn’t a circle . Maria rung the bell on the presbytery door , Michael opened it and screamed with the shock . They didn’t get as far as the bedroom , by the way you do know that all priests are given single beds to remind them they are single , well that’s the theory anyway . No , they got as far as the stairs . Their child was conceived on the stairs of St Jude’s presbytery . You see nothing is impossible to God , yes he needs priests , but God believes in true love too . Michael got a job working for Patrick in the bakery and Maria opened a sandwich shop , with Michael helping out . They went on to have eight children , you see St Jude is emphatic , never say never ,never say impossible to St. Jude or God for that matter,

LOVE WILL ALWAYS FIND A WAY .

Our Cat the Food Critic

Our Cat the Food Critic ©

By

Michael Casey

Well I’ve had my haircut so I look even more like George Clooney now, though he cannot fart as well as I do, its the only way to tell us apart, the fart. But I digress, where was I, right here sat as ever in front of the keyboard looking at the sky above. I rediscover Sky on Spotify, the band, not Rupert’s toy, and they are very good, so have a listen for yourself.

They shall be hammering out the classics a la heavy metal, well kind of as I talk to you all. So get the headache tablets ready just in case they go a symbol too far. I did in fact hear them live at the Birmingham Odean in the 1980s, I had sprained my elbow after falling over ice skating, so I had my left arm in a sling. In the audience a whole variety of people had arms and legs in bandages, it was like an invalide’s night out, no I’m not making it up, it was maybe 30 years ago.

So as they wail in the background, rather like a cat on a hot tin roof I’ll get to today’s tale. Totoro is as you know the family cat, or rather we are the family she allows to pet her. Cats own you, you never own them, rather like a mistress so I’m led to believe. Dogs you do own and they are loyal beasts. But cats please themselves.

Totoro will come in the back door or through the window if you are slow and then sit on you. Not because she loves you but because she wants wipe her wet fur all over you. Cats are not stupid, dogs are. Cats do A levels, dogs stop at their ABCs, can you discuss linguistics with a dog? No. Case proven. Totoro is of course trilingual. She understands English and Mandarin, and will sprint faster than Hussain Bolt down the stairs to the sound of plastic wrapping paper being opened. Her third language.

She know that means snacks straight from the freezer from the posh shop. 3 months ago we changing our shopping habits to encourage my daughter while she was studying for her GCSEs. On Thursday we will discover has it paid off. Please God she should do very well and start her A levels in the sciences. However even if she has done unexpectedly badly we’ll stick with the fancier food, because its so much nicer. It may help my own health too, you are what you eat after all. Boris I’ll give such a slap, I know what you are thinking. Moi a male model and all, the cheek of it.

Which brings me to Totoro, we feed her Whiskas which is the best and slightly more expensive cat food, though if you use Ocado’s Fetch you can get a good deal on a box of cat food, 84 sachets or so. Totoro is well fed being part of a Chinese/Irish family but she does like to travel, she is young free and single and has been neutered, so this means she can and will jump over all fences to try the cuisine elsewhere.

Totoro can have at just a hop and skip away:-Japanese, French, Spanish, Polish, Indian, Pakistani, Iranian, Turkish food

So why should she just have Whiskas, she can purr and knows how to give that sad kitty look, she has seen Shrek a few times so she has seen the cat in that. So would you stay at home when you can scale the heights of haut cat cuisine?

Totoro may come in at 11pm for a snack then depart an hour later for the delights of the Indian curry house, or she may just be warming herself sat by its chimney. She comes home smelling of all kinds of everything,no Dana does not have a restaurant nearby. My small daughter is a cat smeller, so she’ll sniff the cat to see where she has been. Sometimes she smells of Chanel, which is better than my Jeyes Fluid smell, sometimes she smells of this food or that food, but she always comes home.

Sometimes she’ll come home at 3.30 am waking me up, only to wake another member of the family up 2 hours later so she can attack a passing milk float. I’m sure she helps the local shop keepers open up, then she can receive a reward of something. Cats are not stupid as I’ve said before. She’ll disappear as Polish schoolkids come home or our Japanese neighbour comes home, so she can share their snacks. Excited voices ring out as children play with Totoro, she is a travelling cat who will sit on any mat, she is the United Nations of Cat. Have a mat, she’ll sit on it.

Totoro does of course rate all the cuisine, she leaves her spray :-1,2 or 3 sprays on the dustbin by the back door. 3 strays means the food is delightful, on a par with Michelin, 2 is good, 1 is nice. And should she not like the food, then she’ll leave a brown message by the back door, and no its not a bottle of Guinness, but the same colour.

Later Totoro will return to sit in the window looking out at the world or at our back garden, satisfied, she has had enough, didn’t Satis mean enough back in latin class? Though I did go to school with a Satiswait who was rather large then, he had had more than enough. Funny how you remember things, that was 40 years ago when I was doing my exams.

I need to finish now and have a nap, I’ve managed to get a cold, I have to look after myself now. If only to be able to let the cat in and out at all times of the day and night while my pigs sleep. Did I tell you I discovered my Chinese name Panzi does not mean Fat Fat Boy, they have been calling me PIG all these years. I did used to equal the weight of my wife,my mother in law and my 2 daughters, MC=4C if you like. I think I’ll spray myself all over the dustbins.