SINGAPORE

One day, like many other days I would walk on the bumpy road, dry and dusty and with my red flip-flops on, stroll past the turkey Lady's' house that looked more like an old shed and while passing make a gobble, gobble sound so that the turkeys would answer me and they did every time, 'gobble gobble'. little things always made me happy!


There halfway and to my amazement there was our taxi man with very long needle like poles sticking into his skin all over his back and face, with colourful stuff on the top of the whole thing. I can't explain how I felt except why did he do that and that it must of been really painful.


His name was Victor and he was Indian ( I think ) I was very worried about him and asked around why?

I was told by someone that he had run over a little girl who was seven years of age and it was his way of punishing himself for taking a life, even though it was an accident. So once a year on the day she was killed for seven years, he would stick these long pins into his body and walk up and down the street to show how very sorry he was. It gave him holes in his face. I don't know for sure if the story was true but I learned that if you do something you know is wrong, you must pay for it in some way. I'm glad Victor doesn't have to do that anymore. May peace be with you Victor ( hug ) thank you for taking us to the swimming pool safely.

BAD MONKEY

I played with Chinese kids, one of my best friends was Florance she had a twin brother.... well I think they were twins. They invited me to come stay with them for the night at their place which was had long stilts. They had a chimp that used to jump on me and break my plastic hair band every time I went there to play.. it nearly knocked me over a few times, it could be a bit vicious now and then, I was lucky it didn't rip my earrings out. I like monkeys though.

I slept on a rush mat which was on wooden floorboards, and we all slept together but with our own beautiful Chinese teeny tiny patch worked quilt and I slept very soundly.. in the morning we had a bowl of shark fin soup and then climbed the ladder and walked to the far end of the house that smelled of joss sticks and boiled rice. There in a smallish room were my friends Mum and Dad chanting a prayer to a picture of the elephant God that I had seen before in shops. I was given a joss stick (that made me happy) and I copied them and tried to mime the prayer as well, didn't do very well with that but I had always been told to respect others ways. Then after getting yet another of my hairbands snapped in half by bad monkey, went on my way home again to tell my Mum it wasn't me honest. Every thing started to get peaceful again ......there was so much to see and do and so many friends to make and I wondered if it was time to watch the black and white Chinese movie on TV ! they were fantastic! The sun was still there and the world was still turning.

THE BUMPY ROAD

There were no kids playing. Everything was quiet. My Mum said. ' It's a curfew ......don't go out ! a little later.... ' Where's Mum ? ' Where's John ? My mind went blank. everything was very quiet, you could hear a pin drop. I thought I heard mum in the living room ..'.it's ok. everything is fine.'....

I had a look out the window and the sky was blue, still no one outside, no tri-Shaw's, no bells ringing, I heard , (and it was all of a sudden) a lengthy crackling noise, just like Chinese red fire crackers. It sounded not too far away to where I lived . One of my favourite things in Singapore was watching the fire crackers jumping all over the place and people (the Chinese) laughing and jumping out of the way (that wouldn't happen these days). For some reason I thought everything was fine and people were having fun up at the top of the bumpy road, there was always something happening there, always something interesting to watch, like puppet shows , huge elephants , precession's especially funerals, they were so very interesting and exciting and so very dramatic with loud whaling sounds coming from the cryer women who walked with what looked like sacking with string tying it all together and waving their arms about. A new law forbid them to carry the corps on the chair in full view so instead they would put a big picture of the deceased on the chair and his or her slippers or shoes where the feet would be.


The top of the bumpy road was where I bought my second hand Bunty (comic) which alot of the time was tattered and torn , not that it bothered me. I found myself outside and walking up towards the top of the bumpy road...it looked fine, no problem it was ok. I just got near to the top. and I remember a branch with loads of leaves had been bent and out of place and was in my way so I took hold of it and moved it away...and there it was, a typical old bus all windows wide open, but with slumped bodies of people and two upside down ones with red blood everywhere, they looked like they had fallen out the door and holes in the metal all the way along from one side to the other. And I stood there and looked and looked, it didn't seem right, they were not moving, it was like looking through an alive picture, but they were not moving.


I ran...... I ran....... I ran away back to my home. I didn't tell my mum in case she was angry with me. I didn't think about that day for about thirty years. I feel blank about it. Quiet. I know there are thousands upon thousands of children who like me have memories they are all over the world. PEACE and KINDNESS is what it's all about as we have no right to spoil that. I'm sorry for anyones pain.

HE WAS A SOLDER..... MY DAD

My Dad kept his rifle in the kitchen, it stood in the corner. We would never ever dream of touching it. Even my big brother who was a teenager used to hang out with his gang, he was known as a ring leader ( they had loads of gangs then) He would never ever go near it. I don't know if we were taught at a very early age, not to touch it, or if we knew instinctively that it was a no go area ? My Dad never ever hit us or man handled us in any way..... my Mum did. Usually a quick swipe across the bum and a very angry look! that would be enough for us to stop, it took a lot to irritate Her, but we did now and then. My Brother and I were never good friends and anyway he was a lot older than me. I could be very PC and say we didn't deserve the clouts we got, but you know what looking back, if She hadn't sorted us out there was a good chance with us being naturally rebellious that we might have been worse off now. We were brought up knowing what was going on what was right and what was wrong, what went on in the world, how could it be any different and crucially, reality checks in Singapore saw to that.


My Dad disappeared again only this time we knew where he had gone to as it was no secret. It was Borneo. At first little things started to change ... no going to town to Changi Village and no going to the swimming pool and the doors were kept shut even though it was hot and days off of school.
It was also around the same time as water shortages and that's when we had to fill everything we could find to have enough water. So no baths, just a damp flannel now and then. The water was boild and put into the fridge it sometimes looked brownish. But when your that thirsty, you drink !

TIGER BALM GARDENS

My parents took my brother and me to ' Tiger Balm Gardens '. I think I'm about nine years old by this time. We had to go through a large gate I think, what ever it was I remember it being bright and colourful, .... reds ..... gold .... black, with Chinese characters painted on it. Every where I looked there were little clay life like models of Chinese men usually, made from clay in brightly coloured Chinese peasant clothes being dragged by the hair the legs and being tortured in God knows how many ways... bowls gouged out while still alive and although there were no sounds, I could hear the screams and see the pain these poor people went through..... finger nails being pulled out and being burned alive, boiling water thrown over them. A must see tourist attraction...bring your Granny !!!!

Luckily I didn't experience any night mares that night but then my Dad did keep telling me that they were not real only clay and that kind of torture was not done anymore, especially not to little girls. I became very worried about my big Brothers' safety, but he wouldn't let me hold his hand to protect his life ! We then went into an even more colourful fair ground..bright lights in the evening and wonderful smells from loads of BBQ's . That's where I tried my first sweet meat, was it rat? dog? I didn't care. I was so hungry after all that torture, blood and guts. I just love Chinese food !!

Then off home again but I must have been asleep because I don't remember anything after that but had a lot to talk about to my friends the next day while beating them at marbles ... I learned how to play, by the best , a chinese boy who was about my age , we became the best of friends even though he always won every game we played.

THE SWIMMING POOL

Every day in 385 Joo chat Place was a new day. I settles very quickly in my new home and made friends very easily. I think the reason for that is, we were all different in our own way. Chinese, Malaysian, Indian, English. Everyone was busy,busy, I loved the day to day life, going to the swimming pool was a frequent occurrence, that's where all us army sprogs met up ... the coca cola machine was well used, that's when we had real glass bottles with green tint running through the thick bits of the glass. coca cola tasted better then I think..... memories! Swimming there was great ...I had taught myself to swim. I found that if I held my breath and swam under the water first and pretended that I Was a dolphin and so then I wasn't afraid because dolphins aren't afraid. Soon I could dive in and retrieve stones and things at the bottom of the pool ,easily holding my breath for ages, in fact that was the fun part , hold breath for a minute....then see if I could hold it for longer, and I did, what, freedom . I was a dolphin for a long time. The last time I tried that, was a few years ago and at first I thought it was brilliant and I swam on my back under the water then played dead man floating, then without taking a new breath dove under for the length of the pool, aren't I great I thought ...still have it in me. ..........Got an ear infection the next day, couldn't stand up, was so dizzy kept falling over and ended up in out patients at the hospital Mmmmmm! best not to do that again.

ICECREAM MACHINE

I heard a bicycle bell tringing outside our house it was as usuall very hot and sunny. There he was, this Chinese guy with a huge block of ice in a sort of spiky clamp and when he turned the handle it grated the ice, which he then would catch in his other hand and make a snow ball , a very big snow ball, after that he would ask what colour do you want (in a Chinese accent) and you would then choose a colour (or all of them) pink blue green yellow .... hold it in your hands and suck as quickly as possible before it melted... I think it cost about 10 cents. We didn't mind that he did all this with his bare hands, or that the water was possibly contaminated and I don't remember having any tummy problems.

Another boy , he was about twelve or so used to come around with a machete and a basket of pine apples, then for around 10 cents he would in front of your eyes hack away gently at the pineapple until all the skin was off and then throw it up and cut it into quarters in a matter of seconds, I loved to watch him do that .... that was worth more than ten cents I think.

The coconut man did similar with his machete .. it seamed like they all had knives and daggers, but I never felt in danger and I wasn't. I was safe with these people they were always protective of children even me I know this for sure. There were plenty of occasions they could have proven that wrong .

We were surrounded by the rich and the very,very poor. There were four different languages being spoken...Chinese, Indian, Malaysian, and English. I loved listning to each of them...all beautiful in their own right.

THE EMPTY HOTEL

We were carted off to a huge hotel that hadn't (it turned out ) finished being built. There was no roof and that night I could see the stars as I looked up from my little metal bed .... I slept perfectly well, no snake so no problem. The next morning I was served by a very nice gentle African looking man who had a sweet smile. He put a bowl of what was supposed to be cornflakes in front of me. They didn't taste of cornflakes and the milk didn't taste of milk and what's more the orange juice did not taste of orange juice. I had my first experience of Army food for solders when they go out on a 'scheme' to fight etc. It tasted horrible and my Mum had to frown at me for a very long time until I ate it all.

Soon enough we were back in the plane and off we flew to a new and exciting life.

I remember waking up in a bus, my head was on my Mums lap bumping up and down and I could see the silowets of palm trees and smelling very moist and warm air. I must of fallen back to sleep because I don't remember anything after that , but I woke up in our new army quarter and it was wonderful and strange, and beautiful still does not describe how fantastic Singapore was. Would I have lived there forever if given the Chance .......absolutely !

We had quite a big garden with huge flowers that looked like Clivia miniata where big black bees buzzed in and out of, all day. A monsoon drain was all around each of the houses, they were quite deep. There was a huge swamp just over the dirt track where the sound of frogs and other noises could be heard aloud at night it was as though they all started their singing at the same time every single night. I loved that chorus and slept really well apart from the buzz of the mosquito, we hated them, we would spend at least fifteen minutes splatting them if they were found under the mosquito net ..it wasn't fun but there was a bit of satisfaction killing them.

It wasn't long before I met our 'Arma ' She was a Chinese lady and she had a daughter who was in her teens. She wore a typical Chinese outfit that was made of cotton and she called me ' Missy' and she called my Dad 'master', I remember that because my Mum and Dad were very embarrassed about it as they didn't believe in that sort of thing as it was too demeaning, they said. But she wouldn't change her ways. We loved her very much. Her name was Tan, I love you Tan, I wonder sometimes if you are still alive and if only I could find you xxx

SINGAPORE

The two and a half years I lived in Germany was a social learning curve for me. I didn't have any German friends at all. It was in a way like living on a little island with little minded people who kept within the boundaries of their own little, tiny cliques, scared in case they find out that the people on the other side of the fence were just like them and the worrying thing is they probably were !

SINGAPORE ! Wow ! We flew in an airplane called 'The British Eagle ' and if I remember correctly it was somewhere over Africa my brother looked out of the window and as we were sucking on our boiled sweets to help make our ears pop back to normal He noticed that the wing or propeller was on fire. And that the plane was slowly descending. I don't recall any voice from the pilot saying anything at all, so we just looked at each other and Mum, but she didn't say a word except, 'Do you want another sweety darling ?

We started to land as if everything was normal and soon we were stepping out onto a very small airport with dusty looking hand made baskets laid here and there they looked like they had been sitting there for donkeys years. It was very, very, hot and as we entered the sheltered place I noticed this amazing looking broom. It was so colourful I had to hold it and try it out ...but as I moved it from it's position, my brother quickly grabbed it from me and threw it down. Red solder ants were marching up the handle and onto the wall in a long line, I had a good look at them they were awesome with their pincer mouths holding leaves taking them who knows where. Thank goodness a glass of coke was put into my hands and I was told to come and sit down. Didn't want ants in my pants ooooow no!

THE CELLAR

The army quarters were big and had huge cellars. My Dad kept all of his books down there and used to read for hours great big hard backed ones with gold edges and I remember one of them caught my eye that had a bottle green cover and gold shamrocks printed all over it but I don't know what it was called as I was more interested in pestering my Dad when ever possible and of course raiding the drinks room which was filled with alcohol of all sorts I never thought of drinking the alcohol, my favourite soft drink at the time was American Ginger Aile.


The cellar was always warm, there was a big boiler room with a boiler that ate huge amounts of coal, part of the room was filled up to the top with coal, from hatch door that could be opened from the outside. I used to run down to the cellar and get as close as I dared to hear the really loud rumbling noise, and watch the coal tumble down and build up to almost the hatch door. I really wanted to climb it, but, well.... Mum,... frown,....trouble......I sometimes remembered that it wasn't a good idea.....Fire ... and the word danger in my Dads' voice popped into my head. So that was not to be !


There was one day I had decided to go down to the cellar where I had the biggest shock of my life and to this day I am scared , there He was, my big, horrid , rotten , git of a brother using my only Teddy Bear as a punch bag ! Was he angry with me ? Was he angry with life ? Had he been told off ? ...........or was he just a great big pig! I will always love you Johny, but you went way over the Teddy Bear line. and as Elvis said ' You can do anything, but lay off of my blue Swed shoes'.

THOUGHTFORMS

So my best friend Ruby who lived next door to me, who one day, when I had to go look at my gooseberry bush at the bottom of the garden, strolled down to me and watched me investigating every twig and leaf .' No gooseberries.' I thought. But I did notice her edging her way up to me closer and closer, on her side of the fence. She had something in her hand , it looked like she was squashing and squeezing it . ' Want some chocolate? she said, in a heavy Scots accent. 'Alright .' I said, watching her fingers squidging the piece of paper it was wrapped in, and out it came like a volcano that had erupted and all the magma oozing, all over her hand and in between her fingers. I laughed and laughed, I nearly peed myself. 'Stick your hand out .' She said. And with a big smile on her face she squashed some of it onto the palm of my hand. 'Go on then...lick it , like me look'. We both stuck our faces into our hands and licking the chocolate like we had never had chocolate, ever! Well, you can guess, most of it was up our noses, mouth, chin, and of course hair......we then proceeded to laugh and scream allowed, while trying to wipe it on each other. We became as kittens jumping and leaping lightly pawing at each other and as our gardens were on a slope, we then decided it was necessary to Roley-poley down on the grass making quite sure the sticky chocolate had some grass mingled in it and sticking to our faces as well ........... in for a penny, in for a pound ! ..... I had made me a friend...... Thank You Ruby for being my good and best friend, I will always remember You and I have always remembered You. The last time I heard, you were living in Edinburgh.

Her name was Ruby Smith if anyone who is actually reading this blog should know her.. give her my blog address please ! ( you never know ) She might need me to be her friend again.

Everything was great. My life was full of wonder and I had plenty of love around me. The whole family, uncles aunties cousins, friends I had were related to my familly in one way or another, cousins had married cousins in past times and no doubt a few sisters and brothers got together ( village life in the past mmmm !! ) anyway nothing new there. But time past and yet again it was time for us to leave and this time if 've got it right we went to live in Germany in a place called ' Lemgo '.


Lots of Army quarters , very concrete with ......' The NAAFI '... (be all and end all shop). And I was about to learn a bit about prejudice and that parents have everything to do with teaching their children hatred. Do they really know how dangerous that is and how it spreads like wild fire in a bone dry forest ?

By this time I'm about seven I think and I am able to speak Friesian , Dutch, understand German and can only speak English with a strong foreign accent with words that tended to come out back to front . I wore clothes that were very Dutch/Friesian, I still had my 'clompen' clogs and I had, had my ears pierced when I was just a few months old, which was a tradition in my family and most little girls had earrings until the day they died. That's why you see old ladies ears stretched because of the heavy gold (it's always, always gold ).

We were always taught not to wear shoes or clogs in the house and everyone even the adults would take their shoes/ clogs off at the front door and even police, ministers etc. would never dream of keeping their shoes on, it was just very disrespectful .... I wonder if the idea came from the Japanese as the Dutch did a lot of business with them in the old days ? My ancestor seemingly had a ship which I think they called a 'ton boat' ....I'm not sure anyway he would sail to Japan and back he would come with lots of blue Delft , the Dutch love it and coral.

I didn't have a brilliant time with the people in Lemgo, but got by, because my parents tried to teach me tolerance . Having nasty names shouted at me and children laughing at the way I spoke and the clothes I wore was a bit confusing as I hadn't known about that before.....but then..........I met my best friend , Ruby ( yep! she had ginger hair ) .... and lots of laughs and fun began to take my sadness and confusion away slowly, but surely.

I enjoyed FriesLand , my FriesLand, My Home. I loved the water pump in the kitchen and the 'Hock', where the boots and working clothes , washing machine and wringer was kept. And outside but next to the back door was the 'Hooska' our wooden toilet, no flush just a wide plank of wood, well worn and rounded with a hole in the middle and very rough mid grey toilet paper ( you didn't need or want much of that, to wipe your bottie ouch!!). Every now and then these huge men with leather flap things on their shoulders, would come around and lift the, by that time very heavy stinky wooden barrels up on their shoulders and swap it for a clean one that smelled of a very heavy type of disinfectant .. I got quite used to that smell and they never ever spilled any of it.......now that's clever!

My Oma and Opa ( granny and grandpa) always had coffee time at the same time every day without fail, it was just the done thing and every one did the same throughout the village ( ZwaagWesteinde). It was one of those days when I must of decided that life was just so great and exciting it was time I jumped around a bit or maybe a lot, so I ran upstairs ran downstairs ran out and in and out again, lept on the big soft arm chairs that were perfect to trampoline on and anyway my Mum was out getting something ...... I could smell the coffee pot and could hear the bubbling as it percolated nicely on the floor next to the stove ( not many plugholes around in those houses ) anyway just as I heard my Mum come in, I got so excited and happy that for what ever reason I jumped off the big chair and fell onto the boiling hot coffee pot. It spilled all over my new angora dress that my favourite Aunti ( Tante Froukje ) knitted for me just a few weeks before. As angora is so soft and sucks in water like a sponge, the boiling hot coffee began to scald my skin on my leg and arm , the dress was stuck. My Mum let out a shout ( I can't remember what ) but in came my Dad and he picked me up and carried me running to the kitchen and while my Mum started to pump the water out , I was held under it for it seamed like ages ( Brrrrr it was cold I remember that ) I was not pleased. They put bandages around my arm and leg but actually it was only for show as they had caught it in time and I had no scars but a great time with my bandaged arm...... lots of money was given to me for my troubles, which I milked as much as possible !

Next to my Grannies garden was a lovely orchard and at the end of it were lots of fields, with ditches in between each of them, and simple low fences with wooden gates that were always shut. It was my birthday and I was so happy because my Mum had bought me this really pretty light blue with white poka dots, chiffon dress with loads of petticoats to make it stick out. I had my lace short white socks on and black patent shoes and my hair was still quite white with ringlets and I looked as though I didn't have any eyebrows (saw a photo of me at about that age). The snow was still patchy on the grass here and there, and everything looked very picture book ( through my eyes).


I noticed that a great huge, horse appeared out of no where and stood looking right at me ( I thought) so I ran into the farm house, grabbed all the bread I could find in the kitchen and hurried outside to see this beautiful animal, there was no doubt in my mind that he wanted to have my food. I thought this was a great idea to make friends with him. I didn't know he was a plough horse or anything about horses except that they like to be ridden.

At first I just fed him and spoke to him and stroked his soft velvet nose as he lowered his big head to eat my bread and I looked for a very long time it seamed at his beautiful big brown gentle eyes. There was nothing to suggest (in my innocent mind) that this giant
was anything but kind and perfect, I had fallen in love with him and it was up to me to feed and care for him ( I was only little and five) .

So now it was time to find a way to climb up onto his back .....I climbed up on the fence slowly and reached up to grab his long black main and puled and tugged bit by bit to get him to come closer and stand alongside the fence I was balancing on. For some reason he did exactly what I wanted him to do ( I now shudder at the thought) and somehow like a wee monkey I scrambles up and onto his very very broad back. My spindly little legs just stuck out as they were just not long enough for me to be able to hold on with them so I grabbed as much main as would fit into my hands.

At first he did absolutely nothing , no movement , no sound , he didn't look around at me and wasn't upset at all that this small creature was sitting on him. Then all of a sudden he lifted his head up a bit more and started to walk. It was only then did I start to feel a little worried but only because I quickly realised that I was very high up and that the movement was moving me around a bit too.

He walked right over to the other side of the field where there was another wooden gate and as if he knew what he was doing, he moved his body along the side of it .......I , by that time thought it was time for me to get off and I did, sliding down , hanging like a monkey untill I found a foot hold on the gate and plopt into some mudd.... I said by by to him and called him Sessi ( I don't know why, I had heard a French song on the radio and that was one of the words in the song. I was only little). and hurried home only to find that my Mum and the Farmer who owned the horse, were there waiting for me by the fence. They didn't say much but I knew something wasn't right .

For starters my dress, shoes and socks were covered in mudd and horse hair, horse smell and my Mum asked me where the bread had gone. I think I just stared at her and the Farmer with my wide eyed and no brows look..... I don't remember anything else, she didn't smack me....she didn't put me in my room....nothing!!

Later on in my adult life She told me that I had completely freaked out the Farmer as he told her that He had watched the whole thing but was worried that the horse might suddenly gallop if he had come any closer.The horse was not to be trusted at all He told my Mum and that it had given him a lot of hastle biting and it hated pulling the plow. Well, ovcourse I know different don't I. I remember you Sessie and will always love you. You should of been my horse for ever.

THOUGHTFORMS

We left Cyprus and usually in between moving into a new home we would travel where ever we were to Holland in Fries land..which is the North of Holland, that's where my Mums Family comes from, some live in the North and some in the South. My heart seams to stay in Fries land. Farms and Tulips, the old world,... cobbled roads, roads just for bikes to ride on. Villagers where people haven't changed for hundreds of years, still wearing their clogs and long dress going to church on the bike ........... I expect it's all different now.

When I was little and had been in a hot country then having to go to a cold country was such an adventure and I can't remember missing Cyprus or the heat. I came into a world of snow and ice and skating on ice with my parents and cousins. If you didn't have skates all you did was scrape down your dutch clogs 'clompen', until they were flat underneath then go skate and with home knitted thick light grey socks on, it was no problem and very warm dry and comfortable.
I just loved the way all the families and their children would get together, not because they were from blue or from green or rich or poor no politics just lighthearted fun and loads of laughter...the girls watched the boys and the boys showed off to the girls while the older ones watched all of them. I'm not saying that it was perfect or that nothing ever hit the fan! but it was cool, I don't remember any kids being nasty or shouting names or swearing. I expect it would have been stoped very quickly, I don't think they had time as everyone worked hard at school and the adults at work. I don't remember knowing people who didn't work unless they were very old or in hospital, every one seamed to be doing something to help in some way. Even after school I would help out if asked other wise I would be playing outside.

The wonderful thing was I didn't have to stay in if there was a curfew and I knew they didn't have 'snipers', or hatred that I knew of. I was very happy in my Friesland and picked up the language quickly as I had been listening to it, Dutch and German all my life.
If I could live in FriesLand comfortably I would jump at the chance.. it was a clean and friendly place to be, I felt safe there and well looked after, much love and laughter.

I loved the houses there they had cellars where lots of jars, rows of them were kept for fruit and enjoyed in winter. That's when the whole family would help (well the girls mainly) men had the hard jobs to be getting on with..... Men and Women and Children knew their place as they say... It worked if the family stuck together and knew why this was a good idea. I can't remember any old peoples homes , as my Oma and Opa were looked after very well in with all the family and cousins

THOUGHTFORMS

I woke up one morning, my bed had a mosquito net that had been tucked in under the mattress. I could hear whispering and as I tried to sit up to find out what it was, I could see my Dad and the neighbor from upstairs standing there waving me to lie still and not to look under the bed.' I'm sorry darling', He said. 'Don't be too upset. The neighbor had some kind of pitch fork and very quickly slid it under my bed and out came this enormous snake with a roundish bump inside it. It hung limply on the pitch fork...I would of been really upset if I hadn't been so frightened of the big well fed snake....I asked if they were going to kill it? they said no it was going to be taken far away from the houses. It had slept in my room under my bed and ate my rabbit.....poor Fluffy, didn't want a replacement rabbit after that ...way to dangerous, (the snake that is).


Our neighbors in Cyprus were great, I played with their children. I don't recall any name calling or anger or hatred or being threatened. I was never told not to be kind to them or hear any snide remarks. My big brother used to visit our neighbours and make funny faces at their baby so that she would laugh open her mouth and in would go the spoon full of food, Mother at the ready with another spoon full. The Mother of the little child used to call for my Brother every day, I'm sure her voice could be heard right down the street. Everything at that time was I think just nice and simple . Picnic basket filled with cheese sandwiches, lemonade, and a flask of tea etc. and off we would go flip-flopping to the beach to find hidden treasure buried under the sand for thousands of years.........well that's what were told and I still want to believe it.

You know, if I had the money, I would love to go and stay in Cyprus I had spent at least two and a half years there that's a good chunk of my childhood.. a soldier used to take my Brother by the hand and hold me in his arms with his rifle on the his other shoulder and walk us to our school. I can remember the smell of his jacket though I couldn't describe it other than it was like wool and sweat and rough on my cheek's, I watched the rifle bayonet bob slightly it was just like the one my Dad had I thought. We were escorted to school because of kidnappers and trigger happy crazy people. I felt safe in his arms. He was protecting me, who was he I never knew.. thank you who ever you were. Cyprus is a beautiful place to visit now I would think.

THOUGHTFORMS

This is a true story about my childhood....I may get some of my memories wrong but it is true to me and I will do my best not to exaggerate and will just tell it like is was, I may or may not joke about it, it depends on how I am feeling at the time.

The reason why I want to write about this is that it may help me understand why I am who I am now that I am 50+ and yesterday was my birthday 31st December. Also I thought it might be of some help to others who have also had an army/forces upbringing/life. I was told by my Father when I was a rebellious teenager that if somebody is aiming a gun at you and you know he's about to shoot you it would be very stupid not to shoot him first. My Dad loved nature and was very kind to animals and to people without guns and explosives. He was softly spoken and articulate. He was a loving and funny Dad and never ever hit me or swore. He had been in the army for I think about 24 years. He never hit or swore at my Mum. He did however occasionally drink until he could drink no more, but always with a funny smile on his face .....he was Irish ! and of course I loved him to bits, why wouldn't I , after all I was only a child. Army men were well known for their drinking abilities. I never became a drinker, possibly a few glasses of gluvine and a bout of trying it when in my late twenty's.

I was about four and I lived in Cyprus with my older brother and Mum and Dad. One day I was told that I wasn't to go to school because there was a man on top of a water tank (they are huge) and he had a rifle. I was told that he was a 'sniper' this was the first time I had heard that word.
and I was to be very, very, still ...so very still, I was not to look out of the window it was hot and very dry ... I can't remember how long I had to be still but I remember hearing a few cracking noises and all was OK again. But I was never frightened just in a frozen kind of waiting state. I felt very protected being with my Mum She was one hell of a woman but that's another story maybe for another time.

I still have that stillness to this day depending on what's been happening.

I had a wonderful time being a child in Cyprus and enjoyed going to the beach with my Mum and Dad, white sand and with my red bucket and spade collecting small round black beetles and shoving then into my bucket only for them to escape as fast as I'm putting them in...my Dad found a white gold ring there and I remember a huge pillar on it.s side by the water edge I think. I remember that there were many snakes (real snakes) poor Fluffy (my pet rabbit).