They say that the death of a loved one, a divorce or moving house are some of those most stressful things a person can encounter. Illness, the loss of a job or standing on the scales and finding you have gained 3 kilos are also things that can tip a person over the edge. As a teenager, discovering a pimple on the morning of the big date was, to my teenage self, a catastrophe of monumental proportions.
As I matured, I became too busy to get stressed. I always meant to have a little breakdown, but never seemed to have the time.
Read more: A tale of a Monster, Vacuum Cleaners and dirty keyboards.
People without a gate do not realise what a gate is.
It is the ability to lock, open, accept or reject a welcome visitor or an unwelcome visitor. Obviously, without a fence to accompany the gate, it is worthless. But, with a fence and a gate in place, what liitle we own in the world is precious. Without it, it is open to plunder.
I have become increasingly concerned that we are at a fork in the road. What plays out in the next 2 months will determine the course of modern history. It is that serious.
Should this illegal takeover of America succeed, people from all free Nations around the world will feel the impact of this life changing event. We are, whether we admit it or not, now in a state of war.
In 10 short months, our entire way of life has been altered and our sense of hope and optimism utterly decimated. All we had to cling to was the faith that President Trump would succeed in restoring balance to this tortured way of life. Has the rot set in so badly that there is no coming back?
The only way you can remove a tumour is to have a competent surgeon. One who has the will, the expertise, the determination and the tools to perform the life saving operation.
It does not matter how skilled the surgeon is, how well equipped the operating theatre or the team of staff the surgeon has at his side, without the scalpels and tools, the tumour cannot be excised.
Read more: The Deep State. A tale of tumours, a Thief, missing scalpels and brain surgery
As the fraud in global elections is mounting at an alarming level and we lose more and more of our freedom to the so called Corona Virus, 2020 has seen us plunged in to lockdowns, masks and a constant campaign of fear mongering.
Climate Change was put to one side while the planet was conditioned to accept unacceptable restrictions on our day to day lives, all under the guise of keeping us safe.
We have had years of social engineering where our opinions are callously disregarded if we do not submit to Black Lives Matter, babies are sacrificed on the altar of " my body my choice " , our elderly and vulnerable are subjected to abuse and neglect and our children brainwashed in to believing that pedophilia is normal. Little children are encouraged to learn about sex, become transgender and abandon the centuries old family values that have cemented our communities and kept us united.
We as humans are supposed to be above cruelty and neglect, inhuman treatment it is called, but we as humans are doing this very thing.
In every respect we are without feelings or compassion, not only to our animals, but to our elderly , in a lot of cases to our children also to our wild life. I am going to go into a list of examples. Look at motherhood for a start. In almost every case with very few exceptions the new mother is very protective and loving towards her new born.
Read more: Redhead is on the Warpath and the path is paved with bad intentions.
Redhead bought a new fan a few days ago. One of those tall slim ones that hum away in the background and don't blow your wool off if you are Shaun the Sheep. As always these days, it came in flatpack, and, in the absence of her late husband, it fell to the young neighbour to put the bits together.
I have a love hate relationship with flatpack. I hate putting it together and love it when someone else does the assembly.
Read more: Who is assembling the Flatpack of fans and what fuels the future?
Having worked in a mens maximum security prison, I know all about lock downs. They happened when something was up or something was about to go down. Drugs on the compound, hooch ( illegally brewed alcohol) being hatched in a garden hose somewhere; or the tell tale signs : prisoners returning property to the property store instead of being in their cell. Hair being cut, a change in telephone habits. A riot being planned.
The easiest way to quell the forment was to lock down, isolate prisoners from each other and cut off their means of communication.
I read that our Aussie Diggers are under the pump again. Being accused of war crimes and our " esteemed " Prime Minister is on board with this disgraceful character assassination. The armchair experts who feel they have the right to condemn the actions of fellow Australians in the theatre of war.
Like so much of our lives these days, armchair experts are using personal opinion to write our laws, rewrite our history and redefine our future.
People and Governments have squandered 2020 and the wealth and mental health of all citizens because of a Medical Officer's opinion. One so called expert has allowed the Governments to avoid making decisions and taking responsibility.
To those of us who live down under, Summer is a coming in and , for our friends in the Northern Hemisphere, the winter chill is well on its way.
The strange thing is that the smells associated with our seasons are woven into our memories, like snapshots from the past.
As a child, I grew up in the country and, to this day, the smell of freshly mown grass or newly harvested hay takes me back to a time of happiness and security.
Unlike any other sense, the sense of smell seems to trigger my mind more than any of my other senses.
Read more: The Scent of Summer and the Wonderful waft of Winter
After months of misery and sticking to our homes like glue, just in case we get the dreaded lurgy, it gets to the stage where you have to bite the bullet, get in the car and hit the road. Not on a holiday or heading off to somewhere windswept and exotic; just a trip to the other side of town. What, less than a year ago, was a normal part of day to day living has become a chore and an unwelcome one at that.
Going to public places is now a voyage into a foreign land. A place where it is no longer fun or familiar. It has become a chore and, like ironing is to me, an an unpleasant one at that.
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