Wednesday, 10 April 2019

a sustitute story instead

the pain monster has descended.

So I cannot think long enough to write what I wanted

If Blogger allowed audio I could rattle off a story for you

However in honour of Darcy Bussell from Strictly Come Dancing

here is:-   Birmingham IS Ballet     enjoy as you prance about



Birmingham is Ballet ©
By
Michael Casey

If you have been  following me on my site you’ll know that the pain monster attacked at 4am this morning, I had a cuppa and as I’d managed to waken my daughter I told her about this story. It will actually form a chapter in Tears for a Butcher the comic sequel to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker, assuming I get around to doing it. I have a vain hope that I could borrow a legal secretary, then in 12 weeks the sequel would be done. I’ll just sit and dictate it.

Now why Ballet? Well as you should also know my wife’s first friend in Birmingham was a ballerina from the Birmingham Royal Ballet. I was vetted in a straight bar in the Gay Quarter of Birmingham, by the ballerina herself. The bar is called The Queens Tavern, you can have a beer there next time you are in Birmingham at the ballet, it’s just up the side of the Hippodrome Theatre past the Subway sandwich place.

Now if you put your 4 pints of Stella down on the coffee table Boris, and those three Subway sandwiches, eating alone again, then I’ll begin. Remember as ever these are all my copyrighted ideas.

Catherine and Damien were ecstatic they had scored top marks in the Law exam, in fact along with their friends, Peter and Paul all four had scored top marks. All because one of the partners suggested they go to visit Marcus in the old people’s home, the one owned by The Old Forge and Singing Anvil Coop, but that’s another story which I’ll tell you later. But you may need another 10 pints of Stella Artois and 6 more Subway sandwiches Boris, but Annie can clear the table away for you, or Bettie her twin sister.

Now where was I, yes Catherine and Damien and the other two had visited Marcus in the home, after his stroke he needed a little help but otherwise he still had it. So with Marcus’s help the four of them scored the highest ever scores in the Birmingham Law exams. Now it is a tradition that the Law firm that gets the best results gets a bottle of whisky from the other firms. As you may know if you wander around Saint Phillips cathedral area, we have a lot of lawyers in Birmingham. Obviously I worked at the best firm, Pinsent Masons, but I digress.

So back to the tale, grace a Marcus as the French might say, the foyer of Catherine’s company was littered with whisky. Not bottles but cases of the stuff. As her company the gained the top 4 spots, the other firms thought it was only fair to send not a bottle but a case of whisky. I am probably underestimating the figure, but 30 firms sending 30 cases of whisky, equals 360 bottles of whisky.

The senior partner arrived and raised half an eyebrow. It’s the legal results Sir, explained Tony on Security. We got a case instead of a bottle seeing as we did so well. 360 bottles. Yes Sir 360 bottles, litre ones too. The senior partner smiled, well if you put 5 cases upstairs in the boardroom. And the rest Sir? Well if I remember rightly it’s your Regimental Reunion soon, would it be an imposition if I asked you to dispose of it. 300 bottles may be a little too much to ask you to dispose of? I suppose we might find a good home for it all. Thank you Tony, said the senior partner. The senior partner stopped for a second, no he hadn’t changed his mind, oh by the way, ask Maggie our cleaning lady for the hangover cure, it works wonders, so I am well informed, touching his nose as he skipped away smiling. It was a happy ship their firm, one big happy family.

So the night of the Regimental Reunion arrived, Tony had hired a room in the local bar, in the corner the prize, 25 cases of whisky. Not your rubbish stuff from Asda or any other supermarket. 40 year old malt whisky, they were lawyers after all, they had standards to maintain. In a neighboring bar Catherine and the others were celebrating too. Catherine and Damien were having a quiet fag, when 3 lads asked could they have a light, when Catherine held out her lighter one grabbed her arm, they were going to be robbed. Catherine let out a scream, one of the lads pulled a knife.

Inside the Regimental Reunion things were going well, very well in fact, half the Tonys were tipsy.Ex army tend to work as security in Law Firms, and they always but always are called Tony,its almost like a religious cult. Ex army,law firms and the name Tony. If you don’t believe me ask Tony Cruise,the action film guy, is real name is Tony by the way. Catherine’s scream was heard, and like a mother running to save her baby half the room exited. But they were too late, blood had been spilled and bodies were on the floor.

Somebody else had heard Catherine’s call, it was a ballet dancer new in town, like a new gun slinger. It was Anton Bollockoff from Russia. He had dashed and pranced and pranced and dashed, three times in fact. He had kicked them high and low, and low and high and high and low again. The assassins were on the floor bleeding. Are you ok, my dear said Anton looking into Catherine’s eyes and she looked into his. It was thunder and lightning, may I introduce myself. Damien screamed,the Tonys ran faster, as fast as 40 year old malt whisky allows you. You are THE Aton Bollockoff, the ballet dancer, screamed Damien, he was so excited. He had been rescued by THE Anton Bollockoff, nobody would believe him down the gay bar.

The Tonys arrived and bounced the three criminals against a wall or two. You are banned from Birmingham yelled a RSM, another Tony took their photos, do you hear me YOU ARE BANNED FROM BIRMINGHAM, yelled the RSM. Now get lost, he would have used stronger language, the kind RSM have qualifications in but there was a lady present. Damien explained all. Tony from Catherine’s law firm thanked Anton Bollockoff if ever you need a favour just ask, you saved one of my girls and boys, I owe you.

Anton Bollockoff knew when to leap so he leapt. If I could get into a good Italian restaurant tonight with the beautiful lady that would reward enough. Catherine swooned, delayed shock, Anton caught her in his arms. This was love at first sight, and the Tonys were there to see it, Damien was slightly disappointed, but he believed in love, he has watched Moulin Rouge 12 times already.

So Tony took their photos too, he explained henceforth they were on the Angel list, never wait, straight to Heaven at any place in Birmingham where there was security. As for the 3 bad guys, they were on the Hell list, forever barred. Photos were appearing on mobiles all over Birmingham as he spoke.

So thanking the Tonys, Damien, Catherine and Anton Bollockoff made their way across town to the new gay bar and then to the Italian restaurant. Were they afraid of meeting any nasty people along the way? No because Anton was with them. Besides every security camera along the way was following them and as they passed every bar and eatery a security guy or girl waved and spoke into their radio. It was as if the Queen was strolling by, with security watching.

Damien had everything, a bright future in the law beckoned, but he wanted love. And you cannot buy love. He waved Catherine and Anton away as he queued outside of the new happening gay bar. He had a slight tear in his eye, all he wanted was somebody to love. He’d have a great future but without somebody to share it with. He brushed a tear of envy away from his eye. At that moment Martin appeared, Martin was the head of security, he was just checking the lines. Do you want a tissue he asked as he handed Damien a tissue, then looking at his phone he said, you are on the Angel list come with me.

Once inside Damien had a cocoa with Martin, you can’t have alcohol while you are working after all. Damien offloaded his life to Martin, it turned out that as well as being a body builder, Martin’s dad was a lawyer. Only they had argued so Martin ended up having a security company instead of a law firm. They say that God works in mysterious ways, but that night they had found each other, 60 years they were together, but I’ll leave the future to God.

Meanwhile Anton Bollockoff and Catherine were walking hand in hand through the backstreets till they arrived at the best Italian Restaurant in Birmingham. All the time security cameras and doormen charting their progress. The Regimental Reunion was I full swing, Tony was happy his eyes were everywhere protecting his children.

At Don Camillo’s Anton and Catherine instinctively queued, a security giant and his small blonde pig-tailed girlfriend ushered them in. Paolo was a ballet nut and when he saw walked through the door he screamed. The best table in the house given to them, best food and wine was produced. Catherine was all loved up, here in front of her was THE Anton Bollockoff from Russia. He was wearing a very tight shirt and even tighter cream coloured trousers. She was in love in lust and in love again.

People would have asked for autographs but one look from the pig-tailed security girl stopped that. Paolo refused payment, Anton said why not come to the ballet tomorrow for a full dress rehearsal, and the nice security people. So it was settled. Anton told Paulo to step outside then he asked Catherine to lean on a lamppost.

What happened next cannot really be explained by a ballet baby such as I. But I will do my best, with Paolo standing on the steps of his restaurant Anton floated back and forth only to return to stroke Catherine’s hair, her face and shoulders. Away and return, away and return. A crowd of hundreds appeared, held back by security. This went on and on and on, like singing in the rain but without the rain, this is Birmingham not Manchester after all. Anton stroked her hair, her face, her shoulders, her behind, her breast, her thighs. Ever so gently, ever so romantically. Women and men fainted in the crowd, erotic dancing, ballet dancing while fully clothed. Catherine’s breathing increased, the crowds breathing increased. Anton Bollockoff was making love to every woman in the crowd.

Finally it was just too much, 40 mins of balletic foreplay, Anton stroked a stroke too far. Catherine wheeled and sprung, she tore his shirt off in the street, Bollockoff shirt off in the street. This would be The Sun’s headline in the morning. She jumped on him and began to devour him on the bench outside the old church that was was now a 70s disco nightclub. For God’s sake get her to the church on time.

The security saved the day as ever, the couple, it was close but not quiet, the couple were grabbed and carried up the street to the Novotel. They were flung through the doors of the Presidential suite. But then something wonderful happened as they stood naked in front of each other. Not the urge, the urge was there, very much there. They just showered together and each other but then they stopped, naked but in love. They spent the night talking, they were up all night, talking. Can it be true, can it be really true? Yes. The exact same thing was happening for Damien and his new life long love. Both couples had stopped on the verge of coupling. They wanted to be sure it was LOVE.

Then they slept.  

In the morning the Sun screamed out Bollockoff Shirtoff in the Street. As the couple talked and slept their love had gone viral. Everybody but everybody in the crowd had filmed it and uploaded it. Ballet Lovers Website crashed 14 times, such was the pull of the ballet. By afternoon on the streets of Bangkok you could buy a DVD of Bollockoff and the Mystery girl. To say Bollockoff was huge was a massive understatement. But what would transpire after breakfast would dwarf.

Catherine arrived at her law firm and Tony smiled, she kissed him on the cheek. Tony on security blushed, he was like a proud dad, as all law firm security people are. Now a major new client had been visiting and as Catherine spoke fluent Italian she was ushered to the boardroom just to be on hand. Now as luck or Fate would have it, the client had been at Paolo’s restaurant the night before. This could be tricky very tricky, but he was a Ballet Nut. He did not want to want to talk about contracts just ballet. Catherine looked helpless and trapped for a moment, the senior stepped in, not as elegantly as Bollockoff but just as nice.

If Catherine doesn’t feel too overwhelmed then I’ll permit it, he ventured, senior partners love their staff almost as the Tonys on reception, but with much posher language. Forgive me, I am just a farmer replied the Italian in clothes worth at least 10,000. He bowed and kissed her hand. So they talked business with Catherine doing a bit of translation. As talks had gone well, extremely well, the Italian could not keep his mind off Bollockoff’s performance. Catherine decided to do some of her own venturing.

Actually, there is a full dress rehearsal today and Anton said I should sneak out over a long lunch break and come and see him perform. The Italian screamed and dropped his man-bag leaving a tiny tiny scratch on it. Could we, please, we have finished here, my cousin Marco would be so jealous if I saw Bollockoff first. The Italian gave his best pleading eyes to he senior partner. Well if you are sure the business is closed. The Italian drew out his most expensive yet stylist pen and signed the 200million deal.

Let’s go and see Bollockoff he screamed in delight. The senior partner leaned over his phone and asked Tony on reception to tell the Italian’s driver to be ready. In the ride down in the lift Catherine told the Italian how she had met Bollockoff. So when the lift doors opened Tony was a superhero, putting Bollockoff on the angel list had been angels’ delight for the Italian. Bollockoff was at the restaurant as the Italian magnate and he had seen him dance in the street. The Italian kissed Tony on both cheeks, you should have a reward, Tony’s eyebrows formed question marks. The senior partner shrugged his shoulders, the Italian asked sheepishly would his man-bag be a suitable reward. The tiny scratch on it meant the Italian would not be seen dead with it. With the senior partner nodding his assent Tony accepted the gift. It was a PacoMacotaco man-bag not that Tony knew that till he googled the label inside. Retail value 4000.

The car whisked them to the ballet, the lights had gone down but they were ushered to a box. The music started and the lights came on. As their eyes adjusted to the light Catherine could see the security from the restaurant and Paulo from the restaurant in the boxes beside them. Then as she looked about she realised the Hippodrome home of the Birmingham Royal Ballet was overflowing. Every security in  Birmingham had come. Invite one, invite all.

Bollockoff and the Birmingham Royal Ballet were on fire, his energy had supercharged everybody. The fact that the other newspapers  had followed up on the Sun’s headline really made everybody feel happy. The show was an entire tour de force or whatever the French say. At the interval a miracle happened. Everybody got a drink, the Chairman of the Federation of Security Personnel Birmingham Branch had slapped down his American Express card and said fill everything and have every ice-cream in the building ready. It was a military operation, everybody but everybody was fed and watered in those 20 mins.

Happy with smudges of ice-cream on their lips which eager girlfriends more than eager to lick off slowly, the security all sat in eager anticipation. They were not denied anything. Ballerinas danced and Ballet dancers pranced. It was like Christmas for a child. Grown men cried and their girlfriends had to console them, and they’d console them much more when they got home to bed. Afternoon delights are a regular feature if you work late nights.

The Italian sneaked out his iphone and streamed a minute to his cousin in Milan. The cousin was so lividly jealous. As the curtain fell the entire audience leapt to their feet. The community of Birmingham security has lost their Ballet Virginity, and they wanted more,and when they got home they would have more ballet, but the horizontal variety. The corps to ballet bowed and the audience screamed.

Bollockoff stepped forward, I am sorry if my performance was not perfect it’s my first time on this stage but I promise to improve here in my new home, Birmingham. I met somebody so special last night and we spent the entire night talking , just talking. So did I screamed Damien and Martin in unison. The audience roared their approval. Things could not get any better. Catherine screamed out, I love you. Italian and the senior partner could go to hell she was in love. The entire audience screamed out I love you.
The corps to ballet bowed, the applause and screaming lasted 10 full minutes was like a pop concert. Then when the screaming stopped Catherine screamed again. It’s me, I love you. The spotlight moved to cover her, he’s seen her in the Sun now he’d spotted her in the crowd. The audience gasped it was her, the girl dancing or rather ripping his shirt off from Bollockoff. Anton saw the love of his life and dived into the crowd. His ballet dancing had lifted them up, now it was their turn to lift him up. So walking on palms Anton Bollockoff reached his girl. It was like Romeo and Juliette. Marry me and have all my babies he said in Russian. What did he say asked the audience? The Italian who also spoke Russia stood and with tears in his eyes translated. He said Marry Me and have all my babies.

Versuvius erupted, Catherine was lowered to Bollockoff’s level and still standing on the hands of security they kissed. Then hand in hand they walked over the hands to the stage. The Italian kissed the senior partner he was so happy. His Milanese cousin would die, absolutely die. After a few more bows the corps to ballet were about to leave the stage when Anton hissed, do you trust me? Yes. So the Corps de ballet left the stage by walking over the hands of the audience.

It took 90 seconds to empty the theatre they were all trained security personnel. Then outside the Hippodrome Anton reprised his dance from the night before, but with the Birmingham Royal Ballet improvising around him. If my mother were alive she would have thrown a bucket of water on them. As it was the Fire Brigade had been doing some routine checks so they decided to sprinkle the ballet. It was an utter internet sensation. Kirov can Bollockoff was the headline on the Sun the next day. Two days with 2 ballet headlines in the sun, was the editor drunk, or just drunk on ballet.   

Linking his arm through the senior partner’s arm the Italian walked back to the law office, the crowds had gathered, his car could never get through now. I like you, your firm, your security Tony, I like everything, like a family, and I adore the ballet. This is the happiest day of my business life ever. Only when I bought the racing car company comes a 2nd closest, to this day. Ballet in Birmingham day, I think I’ll tell my biographer to write a whole page about it, maybe two.

The Birmingham Royal Ballet went inside to change, Catherine and Anton decided to consummate their love in a box of the Hippodrome. Damien and Martin were ahead of them, in a box on the other side of the Hippodrome. As they say Ballet is Universal, the Birmingham Royal Ballet encapsulates it all. And yes I really was vetted by a Chinese Ballerina from the Birmingham Royal Ballet in the Queens Tavern about 20 years ago. Where do you think the ideas come from?
      

















Tuesday, 9 April 2019

I'll write a longer length story in the morning

I'll write a longer length story in the morning

I could write a segment from Tears for a Butcher

I've got several ideas I could pick from

Though it's more like too many trailers from a film

Some maybe down on paper already

There's so much material after all (1,500,000words nearly)

I cannot keep track of everything in my brain

I need a better filing system

Find Malta Story, or the Spaceman and the Archangel, M.P. Marriage to a Person Marriage to a People, Shoplife, They Are Knocking our Street. All of these are amongst my favourites.

While you read those I'll have yet another Dark Night of the Soul, try tinnitus with arthritis pain etc as you try to sleep and them add waking like a vampire every 2 hours or less. No I'm not making this up.

Then in the morning I'll look at the sheep's entrails and divine what to write for you all. Though I write for myself and hope you all like it too. I cannot really write order, I'm not a Jewish tailor, skilled and expert. I'm just me, who writes because it is in me, and it is the only thing I can do.

So that's my last word for tonight, the end of my mother's 99th Birthday  is she was not busy making tea in Heaven.










Free Gifts and Free Stuff

Free Gifts and Free Stuff ©
By
Michael Casey

Well I’ve been to the doctor and I weighed myself while I was there, I am 116kilos clothed. Or 255pounds, I think, if you are American, which is over 18 stones if you are in England. But I look 25 kilos lighter, which is the weight of a suitcase. So now you have the figure you can ogle at my manly figure, just imagine how much lighter I’d look if I were naked. Ok, you can all go puke in a bucket, but somebody somewhere might be excited by the prospect, maybe the Korean girl who works in the mortuary.

I got an unexpected letter in the post, it was seeds for my English Country Garden, ok for the front garden outside. So I’ve poked the seeds in, hoping they will actually grow, Chinese Poeny or is it Pony, either way manure, pony or otherwise will help things grow. A splash of colour before you enter the house and smile to the wifi security camera, I love watching myself on it afterwards.

I was tidying up the packaging when I discovered a free gift at the bottom of the envelope. A tiny packet of safflower seeds. I googled safflower and did not like the thistle like leaves, so I planted them right at the bottom of the back garden by the back fence. If they grow they will hide the garden fence and add a splash of colour. They come in 3 colours. You can go google for yourself. Hopefully in time the back garden fence will totally disappear behind a colourful bush.

So that was a free gift today, though normally when you get something free it is just tat. Worth £40 it says, but really it’s worth a fiver from the market back in Shanghai or HK. The idea is to boast that the marketing company loves you, and they are doing you a favour. They are not. There was a glut of this or that, so they paid £2 for them by buying in bulk, and they know they could not actually sell them in the West, but they are perfect “free gifts” so you sign on for Life Insurance for the over 95s and you get a free gift, worth £40, or so they tell you.

I’ve just had a beef and tomato sandwich on wholemeal bread with Heinz salad cream on top, no Subway does not deliver, I went to the kitchen to top up on my free water, the doctor said my kidneys were dry, so I’ll drink more water. Words are free too that’s why I use so many and you all get the benefit of my free words, well have any of you actually paid for one of my 17 books? So my words are free.

One nice thing did happen in the kitchen, I found my shades lurking on the floor under the spare kitchen chair by the dustbin. They have been lost a few days, so I feel victoriously now that I have them back. It’s like a free gift, the return of my best shades. They are Tommy Hilfiger’s I got them in Malta on the way home in 2013, my last ever holiday that was. So they encapsulate my holiday memories, before Arthritis and everything else came to hurt me.  

How do you feel when you hear the word free? Are you excited, or do you say where is the catch? When we are young we are happy, like a child, but as age advances we are more and more cynical. Love should be free, but it does cost, wait till you have the expense of children, not just the cost in money terms but in your tattered emotions as the kids grow. Free Love might be fun, sex on a beach, or in a wardrobe, or anyplace else, but there are consequences. You should have done this, you should have done that. But neither of you did this or that, you were too busy doing the other.

So the free gift is a baby. You can’t send it back, or push it back up the metaphorical letterbox, you have to deal with it. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it, if you stuck to the top of the wardrobe maybe this free gift would not arrive. Now you have a lifetime of a free gift that’ll steal everything from you, body and soul and car keys and house itself.

Then they leave home, and you are all alone. Hopefully they come to visit,not just to borrow. Hopefully wifi keeps you together, you no longer have to switch it off, you just hope it is on so they can talk from Brazil or Shanghai or even from the space station. Your son or daughter follows in your footsteps, they get to space, the first astronaut in the family, and meet this beautiful Russian cosmonaut. Then Nature takes its course, forget the high wardrobe with its view of the bed to dive on. A first for Mankind, the first coupling in space, your grandchild is out of this world, literally, created in space, a union of East and West. Now that is the perfect free gift, Love should unite both halves of the world, for Love is more than a free gift it is Priceless.













 

Monday, 8 April 2019

surfing and hoping not to have to

surfing and hoping not to have to.

My desktop is playing up so I'm looking for a new PC desktop

some of the folks I used to work with 20 to 40 years ago could build me one

Pad Webb where are you now? He was 16 when he started in the computer room

The guy in Star Trek Discovery  with the beard who loves Michael, Spock's sister

well that is how Pad looks, if my memory serves.

It was Pad who told me to write a book, so he'd be in his late 40s now.

So it's all his fault, I was just writing in pencil on paper to start with, I may have some of them

upstairs hidden away. WORTH NOTHING STILL.

Anyway I've spent hours looking and have narrowed it down to 2, what I can afford, though one is

 12months interest free credit so I may plumb for that one.

The other has 3 years guarantee.  No Fairy has arrived at my door with a new desktop either.

AS for  my body I doubt if anybody would guarantee it,

but God is Good and Saint Jude is on my hit list, so lets see. I did say last night in bed as I struggled

to sleep if God gave me back my health I'd do something useful.

But some of you might just prefer that I'd stop writing. We can all ask  my mother to intervene. She

would have been 99years old tomorrow, if she hadn't gone to Heaven to make the tea.

here's an old piece



Saint’s Day ©
By Michael Casey
Today is the feast of Saint Martin de Porres, 3rd Nov 2015, I introduced him to my daughter a few months ago when our cat went AWOL and only came back when full of fleas. Totoro had gone walkabout, or rather climbabout as cats do. My small daughter was distraught, the cat was her heart’s desire and she and her sister had only got the cat when my heart had broken.
It had been a kind of joke a year ago, almost to the day now. I said if I had a heart attack they could finally have a cat and if I died they could have a dog. So they immediately went looking at cats and dogs on the Internet. In a matter of weeks I had a totally unplanned quadruple heart bypass.
So some saint must have been looking after me, or God really DOES have a sick sense of humour just like in the Blasphemous Rumours song by Depeche Mode. So the girls got a pet, I had to keep my word, so Totoro joined the family. I did pick him or her as she turned out to be, from a photo of 4 kittens from a litter. I chose the pretty one. Totoro turned out to be a ninja cat, who loved climbing trees and catching fleas.
Which brings us to Saint Martin de Porres, I told my daughter if she prayed to him he’d bring Totoro home to us. Well Tororo did come home to us after a day or two, and Saint Martin got a new admirer. I’d shown my daughter an old religious card, it was in my mother’s old prayer book, the only memento I have of my soon to be dead 20 years mother.
We pray to this saint or to that saint when we need a favour, when we are at our wit’s end. It amuses or bemuses other Faiths, and is a great source of comedy. It you are old enough you may remember Milo O’Shea and Yootha Joyce in Mi Mamma, in one episode several statues of the saints are thrown out into the landing because the Pope had said they may not be really saints after all.
Prayer has it rituals, I was an altar boy for 8 years and a reader for 5 years, so I had a front row seat to all the candle carrying and smoke shaking. It is theatre and it can be totally spellbinding. Ironically enough it’s the Requiem Mass which is the nicest, Lazarus being brought back from the dead. Jesus wept for his friend. Even though Lazarus would smell by now Jesus insisted, he brought his friend back to life.
So by using the avenue of a Saint we ask for favours. You’ll ask your mum or your aunty, or a friend to help when you really need a favour. So we use a Saint, though in my own case I can at times scream for the saint called Painkiller, arthritis and post quadruple heart bypass are horrible bedfellows.
In Europe and South America I believe you have a Saint’s Day which is like an extra Birthday, the saint after whom you are named gives you an extra day to celebrate. I’m all in favour of this. Christmas, Birthday, Saint’s Day as well as Pay Day which is a tradition too.
There is a great psychology behind prayer via a saint, it’s like picking your fantasy football team, with no shouting at the team doctor, and then they all work for you. You can see the passing and the build-up, and then a final pass and chip and volley and it’s in the back of the net. GOAL!  The process of prayer is what makes you relax and calms you down. Then you have to accept what is.
You have to work out for yourself is prayer to this saint useful, is any prayer useful to any god, is there a God anywhere? I can only speak from my own life experience. Padre Pio I believe has intervened in my own life, if you read Padre Pio and Me you can judge for yourselves. If you feel humbled by what has happened against all the odds then we are perhaps in the realm of miracles.
The question is do you Believe, or do you wait till you have put your fingers in the wounds.
Happy Saints Day Saint Martin de Porres.
  

p.s. our neighbour wanted a daughter after having 3 sons, so my mum said try Saint Martin, she had a daughter Martina Quigley is her name


















Triple or Quadruple?

Triple or Quadruple? Well my 10 year anniversary is coming up I was told prior to my op it would be a triple BUT when I had a 6 month review...