Dignity

I posted a few days back about the time when my husband was away for 6 months and my Haters devised a plan to destroy me. They wanted to catch me in a threesome. With my two young children asleep in the house.

But they lacked certain facts. Like the FACT that the Officer Commanding of the Unit, Mr Green, had been my training officer in Chichester. Or the fact that it was HIM who’d given me the best recruit posting – to Berlin. Or the fact that he had taken me to one side during training and told me that I needed to go to Sandhurst to train as an officer. I refused.

LOL. ME? An officer? I’m a peasant.

The morning after that horrific night, Mr Green summoned me to his office and implored me to sue the perps for what they’d done. He even gave me the card of his own family lawyer and DEMANDED that I do as he said.

I refused. His reply?

Jackie – You have shown great dignity in all of this.

I’ve never forgotten that compliment.

We Are ALL Doomed!

I swear to God that Frazer was a deeply entrenched Scottish Presbyterian.

Dour….rhymes with sewer.

I grew up with these Dour….rhymes with sewer…family members. My mother was afraid of NO-ONE. Except Lily. My paternal grandmother. Mum admitted that to me several times.

Me, myself & I am/are (?) more of an Epicurean.

Eat. Drink. And be Merry. For tomorrow we die.

I KNOW this to be true. In real life. My Mum was there one day. Gone the next.

You can be the healthiest, fittest, most sober, most select person in the whole world but get on a bike or in a car or on a plane or walk down the street and it’s……Oh. Pearly Gates, eh? Hi, St. Peter. WTF am I doing here?

Never go to bed on an argument with loved ones. NEVER disrespect/denigrate/deny/dispose of dearly loved ones.

Talking of FEY. I was living in Ulster with an 18 month old and newly pregnant when an urge came upon me to go home. I HAD to go home. No hindsight here. My Mum and I had been estranged for over a year with no contact but -still – this feeling was strong. I KNEW that it would be the last time that I’d see someone in the family. I thought it was Nan (Nana-Anne as my boys called her.)

So I went home for a week. Told my parents that they were going to have their second grandchild in 7 months.

6 weeks later my Mum died very suddenly.

Don’t be an egotistical/I’m always right/what the eff do you know? arse.

We are ALL Doomed :o)

P.S. Frazer was also an undertaker in the show!

WAGATHA CHRISTIE

Wagatha Christie? This cracks me up every time I hear it :o)

Rebekah’s story came the other day. Now this is Coleen’s side.

I knew nothing about it when it was all happening but I’m watching now because of a total, brutal sync with my own life.

Long Story – upshot of which was my total humiliation in front of the entire CP Training Company

The people I lived with on a small camp. The people I worked with – The CP Training Wing – and those who were a small but select group of close friends.

My husband? He was away on a 6 month tour guarding some British Ambassador in some effed up country.

The highest ranking man in the company, the Officer Commanding, saved me that night from the planned double rape or (what they thought they’d capture…..) me having a threesome with the babysitter and my next door neighbour.

The O.C. even gave me the number of his own lawyer and told me to take the WOMAN (my next door neighbours wife!!!!) who’d done all this to court for defamation of character.

Well Done, Coleen. Like I’ve always told my husband and my sons – BEWARE OF WOMEN. SOME OF THEM ARE TRULY EVIL!

Fried Eggs & Enlightenment

It’s been so long since I’ve felt such excitement over a research source.

HERE is everything that I’ve fought for almost 5 years to say through this blog and on yt.

And what came back?

A comment about having to buy a heavier blanket to cope with ascension.

A comment about The Hidden History Research being so hidden that no one can find it.

A comment about Brits having the most untrustworthy accent in the world.

Etcetcetc.

NOISE.

That’s all this has been.

NOISE. Ugly little ear worms trying to burrow into my brain.

I thank my God for making a strong and independent woman of me.

Having a truly bad case of body dysmorphia…so bad that I avoid mirrors…is just a foible aka a mental health issue that stalks.

Hey, guys. I’m nothing special. In fact, I’m a bit of a bore. If I tell a joke, you’ve probably heard it before :o)

Know Thyself.

And take what my dearly beloveds call The Mad Pills when it is needed. There is ZERO shame in being on anti-depressants.

ZERO SHAME.

10|11|60 : The Art of Gratitude

In 10 days I will CELEBRATE my 60th birthday.

Yes. Celebrate to the max.

All year I’ve been freaking out about this number.

OMG – I’m old enough to be the mother of so many of the people on yt. Eeek. Hide. Shame.

I’m a useless DINOSAUR.

Then I thought of my own mother.

She died very suddenly and unexpectedly a few weeks after her 49th birthday. So, in 10 days I will become 11 years older than she was the last time we saw her.

Sadly – my mother and I were never friends. We were mother and daughter. She gave birth to me and I was born from her.

She never had the chance to meet her 2nd grandson. I was pregnant when she died.

All through history there was respect for the Elders. Look at the Native Americans. Their elders are their teachers. The Chinese have/had total respect for the older generation.

What if GOD was one of us? He’d be an old man. Would y’all diss him too, then send him to the nearest plastic surgeon?

Grow up.

Altai Republic & The Old Believers

Altai is in Southern Siberia.

Old Believers are Russian who rejected the new “religion” and kept to the Old Eastern Orthodox Religion of times before the 17th century.

Mmmn. 1603. Such an important date. The date that the Romanov came to power and began to destroy the Old Believers.

I feel them. Outcast. Unwanted. Unneeded. Abandoned.

:o)

But we can keep our ancestors and our history ALIVE.

Neeps and tatties and mince. LOL!

BTW – neeps are SWEDES not turnips. You turnip-heads.

The BEST Place To Learn…

…is a quote. From a member of the Truth Community.

From a handsome (quote) clever (quote) good-looking (quote) Mr Man.

He lika da girls. Lots of them. He made them Moderators.

He da Cowboi shooting from da hip.

HE STOLE MY WORK & MADE HIMSELF FAMOUS.

Heyho. Such is life.

And, thank you, my Lord. Silence is GOLDEN :o)

Think Outside The Box : What Box? Nobody Told Me There Was a Box

Something that I can NEVER blame my parents for is Boxing my brothers and I in.

They made suggestions. They gave insults. They tried the bully stuff. But when push came to shove they let us three make our minds up.

Our home was very vocal. Very argumentative. Very confrontational. But us three dodecahedron shapes were not forced into a square hole.

We all left home aged 17 and travelled around the world. We were all allowed to do that. No clipped wings.

To this day, when asked what I do for a living I will say – I’m a mother and housewife. Otherwise the asker would be there for a few hours listening to what I truly am.

I’m divergent aka a pain in the arse aka uncontrolled.

:o)

Handbags & Gladrags

I LOVE this song.

‘Specially the Stereophonics version. My boys will tell you. I might’ve played it a bit too loud, a bit too often.

I’m not a fan of rod Stewart but props for this song.

The handbags and the gladrags
That your poor old granddad
Had to sweat to buy you, baby

Paternal grandad, Sam, was a tanner by trade.

Maternal step-grandad (didn’t know the real one, Clarence) was called George. A steel-worker by trade.

I asked for not a penny when they were alive and got not a penny when they died.

I have a wonderful cardboard box full of old photos of them though.

Money comes and goes. Memories are everlasting.

P.S. I’ve worn Armani suits, Manolo Blahnik shoes. Carried a Chanel handbag. That I HAD WORKED TO PAY FOR.

They mean NOTHING to me now.

NO THING.

AI = Altered Images

Altered Images were a Glasgow band from the ’80’s and their song Happy Birthday was a favourite of mine.

Day After Tomorrow is my late Mum’s birthday.

Next month BFF & I will reach an iconic birthday….though hers is exactly 3 weeks before me :o)

Yeah. She knows. Having been BFF’s since we were both 11, I may have mentioned it once or twice (!)

Bloody Scorpios. Tchss!

One day – when me and she reach 100 – we WILL celebrate like this. Because everyone’ll think we’re old and demented.

Yes :o)

Apropos of nothing – I HATE OCTOPUSSIES. Himself used to snorkel off the Rock of Gibraltar and catch the horrible things. Once he brought one home and put it in my freezer. The bastard sea creature squirted black ink everywhere. Calamari? I’d rather eat all four of my car’s tyres, thank you very much.

Oh and btw : Travis are Scottish too & poor wee Greta is still aLive&KicKinG arse.

Next band, next song anyone ?

John Pierpont Morgan Sr.

Every damn thing is linked.

LIBOR.

SCAM.

CON.

MONEY.

Two Barclays accounts. £ & $

Guess who our $ account was owned by???

Yup. The name showed up on every single transaction.

OMG. I know far too much for a stupid British housewife to know. I must be a fantasist/larp/npc……………………………..!!!

LOVE RATS : Series 1 Episode 1

I made Himself watch this one this morning after yet another “discussion.”

He said : Yehyeh. Nigerians. Car accident. Love Rat. Asks for money. I’ve been down Scam Street in Lagos.

I then got very antsy. Yes. Our first company office was in Port Harcourt, Nigeria and we were put through many a money scam. The favourite at the time had to do with bunkering the ships we needed for the off-shore close protection of gas and oil workers.

At $250,000 a time….that would suddenly go missing and then necessitated my many hours on the phone to the bank (after paying the standard £25 fee) to ask for a money trace and getting nowhere……….FACT!

It didn’t take too long to find out the scam. The fuel all went into a hidden bunker under the bunker and then we’d have to pay again to fuel the ship. Easy money. $500,000 later.

So. This scam is quite normal to us and I told him to watch and learn how the long, complicated con can be worked. Way outside Scam Street.

As if I’d be so stupid enough to show him something common and all too well known.

TUT!

This Hustle is truly brilliant. Sadly.

P.S. We were paid in $. And paid out in $ converted to GPB. At the daily exchange rate. I became an expert XE watcher and had to send many an email to a nasty employee accusing me (personally) of stealing their wages from them…..with me pointing out I DON’T CONTROL THE INTERNATIONAL BANKING SYSTEM.

Dickhead.

Everything comes down to money, money, money.

Money For Nothing

Woooohooooo!

We’ve just had a letter from EON (our leccy supplier) telling us that between now and March next year —– OMG —- they are giving us £400 for free.

Yay

?

Great but in our real life that’ll be £400 to pay for a bill on a SMART meter that gives us leccy for the outbuildings that have all the works fitted but ZERO electricity.

I rang a number last week and gave a poor guy such a volley of logical truth and all he could repeat was – It’s a standing charge on your meter.

So I’m really, truly, actually paying for NOTHING.

But it’s the standing charge on your meter.

A never ending roundabout of stupidity and greed.

And your chicks for free

:o)

The Curse Inside The Gift

Empaths walk into every single relationship, whether that be through friendship/work/romance/acquaintanceship/family et al with only ONE SINGLE MINDSET.

We see everyone as equal and good and kind.

Even when a few dark things happen (Red Flags in psych-speak) we always give the benefit of the doubt because everyone has bad days and down days.

Then we go – BAM! Oh shit. My stupid.

That smile that never quite reaches the eyes. That tone of voice. The coldness of the all-too-familiar turned shoulder. The sugar-sweet phrase spoken only to disarm and disguise.

But we’ve already invested so much of ourselves that to turn away is The Hardest Thing To Do. Why? Because we KNOW the utter pain of rejection.

And we will eat ourselves up with an unholy feeling of failure.

Kerching! The Narcs coin.

You are pathetic. I am so much better. Let’s keep dancing this wonderful tango of abuse and self-harm.

It’s so ugly.

Fact.

Felix vs Phoenix

The OC, having lost two technicians that morning, decided on “Phoenix“. This was misheard as “Felix” by the signaller and was never changed. The other possible reason is that the callsign for RAOC was “Rickshaw”; however, the 321 EOD felt it needed its own callsign, hence the deliberate choice of “Felix the Cat with nine lives”. 321 Coy RAOC (now 321 EOD & Search Sqn RLC) is the most decorated unit (in peacetime) in the British Army with over 200 gallantry awards, notably for acts of great bravery during Operation Banner (1969–2007) in Northern Ireland.[12]

I knew them as Felix. From my time in Londonderry. We’d often call in Felix – the Cat With 9 Lives.

Absolute God’s Honest Truth.

YEW

I live within feet of the village church and cemetery. Yews are all around me. We have rampant yews in the garden.

Yews are called The Tree of Death.

They are also called The Tree of Life.

Ooh. A divine couple!

LILY

Lily was my paternal grandmother. Born and bred in the Gorbels of Glasgow.

But this goes deeper than that.

I was 20 years old before I knew what these were :

1 A prostitute

2 A transvestite

I learned one day on the Ku’Damm in Berlin, caught in a traffic jam on duty as an RMP, when the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen started talking.

I said to Mick – my oppo – Oh. Wow. She has a very deep voice.

Absolute truth.

This is why I find Lily Savage so funny. She reminds me of the trannies on the Kurfürstendamm in Berlin and the time that my all male platoon took me to the Poof-Poof Club for a night out.

To this day I don’t understand why they wore those gas masks with the long hose in porn films.

STEEP learning curve :o)

The Smiling Rant

For me this is a little too little a little too late.

For others it is perfect.

I’ve no issues with Neil Oliver. Apart from on the historical timeline but that’s NOT his bad.

Neil Oliver – ‘…digital enslavement is coming…’

It’s been here for years, sweetheart. Digital Enslavement.

In my humble opinion, so much of the yt truther movement are using “facts” gained via films, games, TV and soi-disant BESTSELLER books.

So you see a film with two moons together, one of them with a perfect map of the earth on. Tahdah. Let’s make a video about how the “Elite/Phoenician/Bohemian Grove/RULERS have deceived us.

WE ARE THE CHOICES WE MAKE.

I’ve said this so many times because I’m also a casualty of my own choices.

I once chose to believe in someone who believed in playing games that were deliberately played to destroy one of us.

And THAT is PERSONAL.

I’m not here to RULE THE WORLD. I’m here to protect those I love and care for.

FACT.

MUSIC Saves Us

Abba Quote :

I’m hearing images, I’m seeing songs
No poet has ever painted
Voices call out to me, straight to my heart

I’m a man who’s been hurt a little too much
And I’ve tasted the bitterness of my own tears
Sadness is all my lonely heart can feel

I can’t stand up for falling down
I can’t stand up for falling down

Simple though love is
Still it confused me
Why I’m not loved the way I should be
Now I’ve lived with heartaches
And I’ve roomed with fear
I’ve dealt with despair
And I’ve wrestled with tears

I can’t stand up for falling down
I can’t stand up for falling down

The vow that we made
You broke it in two
But that don’t stop me from loving you

I can’t stand up for falling down
I can’t stand up for falling down

I Will Always Love You vs Thriller

No contest.

There is an amazing Lebanese restaurant right beside the fountains. When we were there and asked where we wanted to go and eat – we chose that place.

Their humus was to die for.

But the restaurant was dry. As in zero alcohol. But we knew where to go. Around the fountains, through the arch, down the arcade and BINGO. A bar where you could smoke and that had ICE-COLD Guinness on tap.

One night I left him and her (brother and sister) in the bar and walked back to the fountains.

They were playing this……….

Buttinski – we were living in the Burg Khalifa at the time. A little walk away via the Dubai Mall. OH. And they both shouted at me for disappearing. Sigh.

Calling Out the Scams

I have personal experience here. Via my husband who (to this day) is the longest serving RMP Close Protection Unit trainer ever.

I also worked for the M.O.D. as Admin Officer to the training wing of the RMP Close Protection Unit. I was their back up when the paper work/training schedules/incoming news went awry

We were primarily military but our bosses were the FCO.

Lee was NEVER CPU trained. He NEVER served abroad on a CPU team protecting a British Ambassador in a WAR ZONE.

He’s protected Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman and Sly Stallone. And such like.

We know men that we had at the CPU who went to Fayed’s CP team to make easy money. The man was a bleep according to our contacts. He was bigger than royalty and much more important.

This is a true story of someone making money off someone else.

She just happened to be called Diana.

P.S. My husband often refuses to wear a seat belt. It annoys me no end. But that’s part of his training and IRL experience.

Go figure.

Lee, ex-Royal Military Policeman, martial arts champion, private military contractor and expert in close protection, added that it was standard practice for the family to wear seatbelts, an order sent down from Mohamed Al-Fayed. 

He made the comments while discussing his new book, ‘The Bodyguard’, about his life as an expert in close protection, calling it ‘the story of the real bodyguard’.

Over the course of his career, Lee worked with the rich and famous, such as Hollywood stars Tom and Nicole, Pele, and Sylvester Stallone, and in the book he gives a candid account of what it’s like to work in a job where lives are literally at stake. 

At the time of Diana’s death, he was a part of Mohamed Al-Fayed’s protection team, the owner of Hôtel Ritz Paris and formerly Harrods department store and Fulham FC.

P.S. I just keep hearing one song. From the film The Bodyguard. Going back to Dubai Fountains and another REAL LIFE experience.

ROAD RAGE

Something I don’t suffer from. My language may get spicy but my sons call me a “christian” driver….with a potty mouth!

Road Rage by Ruth Rendell. Spoiler – Morning Glory saves Dora!!!

The seventeenth book to feature the classic crime-solving detective, Chief Inspector Wexford.

A by-pass is planned in the sleepy village of Kingsmarkham, a move that would destroy its peace and natural habitat forever. Wexford’s wife Dora joins the protest movement, but Wexford must be more circumspect. Trouble is expected.

Before the protesters even have a chance to make their presence felt, the badly decomposed body of a young woman is discovered. Burden believes he knows the identity of the murderer, but Wexford is not convinced.

Just as Wexford is about to investigate the murder, a number of people disappear – including Dora Wexford. The Chief Inspector must battle with his powerful emotions and solve the case immediately, before his wife is placed in any mortal danger…

I’m more on this vibe in the vid below :o)

P.S. I live with a UK POLICE TRAINED ADVANCED DRIVER. My Dad was one. And so is my brother. TRUTH.

A Beautiful Autumn Day

It started early. I hate being chivvied so I did my protest, had another mug of coffee, wrote a shopping list and we ventured into town.

A Sunday morning lie-in is all well and good but not when the day is gorgeous and empty of traffic and full of bird song.

We had a big disagreement about people who were once close to us — as in our mate who was Family Liaison Officer in the Soham Murder Investigation. Long, boring story.

Himself was always the soldier. I was always the policeman when we were in the RMP.

Feeling the need for some light relief.

He’s never been a fan of Billy (MY Comedy HERO) but will admit he’s funny. We have both been long time fans of Kenny Everett.

Billy and Kenny were close mates.

Living On A Prayer!

Last week a nice man and his boys came here to look over my little car, Oliver.

Sell a car to save a car!

George, the main family car, is working on a prayer and a few expletives deleted. He needs an MOT.

We KNOW that work needs to be done so the £45 MOT charge will multiply exponentially based on the amount of work that needs to be done and the honesty of the garage mechanic.

C’est la vie chez moi.

One of my fave girls in Gibraltar was a Scot called Rae. She had a pash for the man she called Jon Bon Bloody Loveli.

Oh. Oh. We’re half way there – the potential buyer has made an offer :o)

OMG. That hair is glorious

Wilton House, Wiltshire

We lived just over a handful of miles from Wilton House – twice.

I used to visit it. An amazing place. A visit now would make it even more amazing for me !

Why Wilton House?

Here’s where I first met Sir Philip Sidney.

The house was owned by the Earl of Pembroke – husband of Sidney’s sister, Mary.

I swear that it’s here (but my brain may be faulty!!!) that there is an astonishing portrait of Henri Quatre, King of France, husband of Marie de Medici and father of Louis XIII and Henriette Marie, right at the top of a staircase.

Now there’s a nice link :o)

P.S. At about 25 seconds into the video below you’ll see a bridge. I remember VIVIDLY standing there and watching the water flow underneath.

Ancient Hatred : My Ancestors Are Shouting

My name is Greig.

Greig is a sept of Gregor.

Children of the Mist Sir Walter Scott called us because we spent so long under ENGLISH government proscription. Anyone was allowed to kill a MacGregor and never be punished for it.

Centuries later, I’m living the nightmare.

Royal is My Race. I have ancestors known to history. I have family members named after said ancestors.

NOW : since I released all this TRUTH over 3 years ago, I’m stalked by other people with “famous” Scottish ancestors. King Amanda the Viking Kitten is a case in point.

Heads up. Here’s why me and mine ended up in Fife on the East coast of Scotland. Far away from our Hielan’ Hame.

From day dot until I was 10 years old, I grew up with my Dad being called Jock. As soon as he joined the Lincolnshire police, he slowly lost his accent. He’s also buried here in Lincolnshire.

I had MacGregor Tartan Ribbons on my wedding cake……

Gammon & Pineapple

Way back when I was a kid (around 11/12) my Dad was on a huge child murder enquiry that took him away from home for weeks.

At the time Mum worked in the restaurant (where I went to work aged 13) next door to us and every Thursday – her late shift – my brothers and I would come home from school, get washed and changed and go to the restaurant for our tea.

I ALWAYS chose gammon, pineapple and chips. Something we very rarely had at home.

On the menu tonight, plus the egg, plus petits pois, because I can…….

P.S. My traveller-in- crime girl is a pina colada fan. Whereas I prefer a Bloody Mary. Sweet is she. Sour am I :o)

UB40

Nope. Not a German U-boat numbered 40.

In my life this had 2 meanings.

I’d just turned 18, been kidnapped from London by my own father and forced to live back with the parentals – on the condition that I got a job and paid rent!!!!!

So.

Where Did I Go Wrong? (UB40 song)

I got a job and paid rent.

In my day it was called the DHSS. Department of Health & Social Security. AKA THE DOLE OFFICE.

Just off Chip Alley in Skegness.

UB40 was the form that you had to hand over before you got your weekly unemployment/dole cheque.

UB40 was also a band at that time.

Yay!

Oud(h)

This is a smell that was part of my life for a few years.

I was once told as a child that every country has it’s own smell. Well – UAE smells of oud.

Everywhere you go, they burn this incense. I bought loads home with me, along with charcoal blocks. My traveller-in-crime and I even got lost and abandoned in the souk in Old Dubai searching for the best oud. Absolute True Truth.

Recently I came across the product above on ama z on. Nag Champa has been my go to incense for almost a quarter of a century so I knew it’d be good.

WOW. The house smells like the Middle East right now :o)

I’m open to a NagChampa sponsorship vibe – LOL !

Madness : One Step Beyond

Yesterday my eldest and I got to talking about music. I mentioned Travis.

Him : Something about 17.

Me: Bad lyric singing – Is it because I lied when I was 17

Him (when he’d taken his fingers out of his ears) : That was on the radio when we drove in Salisbury before moving up here.

WOW. The lad has a great memory.

Then we got into Bob Marley/Reggae/Ska.

Him : Mother! You like Marley? The Specials? Madness?

Me : Two Tone, son. Two Tone.

The farther/further I run away from the NEO-mainstream BS, the more Madness I embrace.

“Run from what’s comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.”

Ska came after punk and before the New Romantics in my life :o)

Ulster Fry

We watched this this morning and I learned something new!

Katina eats an Ulster Fry….a big one. Yeah. Whooopppeee. It makes her famous.

Way back in the day when eldest was 18 months old and we lived in Ulster and Himself was in charge of the G.O.C’s protection team, working a 20 hour day……..me and the little ‘un used to go exploring.

OMG. Nobody told me at the time that taking the train from Lisburn to Belfast for a jolly day out was #banned by a “wife of.”

Me and my baby son did it regularly.

He’s just had a truly explosive moment about my life without him in Ulster. YOU DID WHAT?

Baby and I loved it. But in those days an Ulster Fry was sausage, bacon, eggs, beans in a separate bowl (NEVER on the plate) and soda bread.

The NI peeps have strange customs. NEVER had a waste bin in the house. Kitchen bin always outside the back door. Didn’t display knick-knacks in house. Never tainted a meal with baked bean juice. Loved the colour ORANGE (check that out???)

I loved Belfast. The people were great. The city is awesome………….oops :o)

Note to Self : Buy some Bicarb of soda to make soda bread next week.

The Holy Grail but NOT As Y’all Know It.

Done this absolute true life thing too many times before.

MY first viewing of this film was on a night duty at Checkpoint Bravo in Berlin.

This was the entrance into Berlin from Checkpoint Alpha in Helmstedt (did duty there too!) via what we called The Corridor. Which was a long autobahn with no speed limits. YAY. Drove it. Scared myself stupid at over 100 miles an hour.

At Bravo there was a long desk. Us Brits (two) were at the beginning. Two US MP in the middle. Two French MP at the end of the desk.

Mick – my oppo – brought in a portable TV one night and we all watched.

Mick and I were laughing.

The US were sneering.

The French ignored us all :o)

The Spear of Destiny vs The Spear of Longinus

I’ve spent too long doing this stuff. Just to have it all ripped apart by the “We Always Win” crew.

Nah. Not any more, mes braves.

Go back. Go way, way back to my posts from 2018/2019 when I tear the Romans apart. Especially Julius Caesar and all that crap.

HIS – story is real. It’s all HIS Story. When you dive deep into Fomenko and New Chronology and actually try to debunk them for over a decade. You’ll understand from whence I come.

Who drove a Spear into Christ’s side when he was on the cross?

And WHO one was of the killers of Julius Caesar?

Et tu Bruti?

Et tu Gaius Cassius Longinus?

And none of this has anything to do with Russia – the country as we know it today.

AEWAR has fallen down the same hole, methinks.

And yes. I’m overly sensitive right now. That’s the lot of a REAL EMPATH who FEELS every single knife/arrow/spear on their soul.

Apparently Herr A. Hitler was desperate to obtain the Spear of Destiny so that he could have magical power uber alles. And we all know how that ended. Follow a MYTH, disprove a myth.

NC postulates that the man known as Julius Caesar is a “reflection” of the myth known as “Jesus.”

I’m in my own private Circle of Hell chez Dante right now.

Or just keep on taking the piss out of me.

So over y’all :o)

P.S. Try looking into Wagner and Parsifal or Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival or The Bleeding Spear of the Grail Castle or The Fisher King with his thigh stuck by a spear or Chiron the wounded or ? ? ?

The Road Less Travelled…

It’s been my lot in life (maybe my destiny?) to always choose the road less travelled.

So many years in Hidden History and New Chronology and now Clothing/Fashion History.

All these subjects are NEW. I have very few peers. So very little support or feedback or people to turn to when I’m stuck and despairing.

It’s unbelievably lonely here.

But – I was called to do this. So I will :o)

The Strangest of Strange Spanish Connections

Throughout my life it has been said that somewhere in the deep dark past, my mother’s family had Spanish blood. Hence the dark eyes and dark hair that we both share.

I was stunned when my DNA didn’t bring up a single sniff of a Spanish gene. So I dismissed this as family mis-information.

But…..

OMG.

Via New Chronology, I ended up HERE : La història usurpadahttps://historiausurpada.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-catalans-of-gaul-expanded-to-the-british-isles-the-catuvellauni.html

My maternal family have been in Norfolk for centuries. We KNOW this via my second cousin Janet who did the whole family ancestry thing in church/parish/family/public records.

Why the excitement?

Ha. Twofold excitement.

I know a little about the History of my country. Even Roman History.

The ancient Catalans or Catalauni were one of the founding peoples of Gaul. However, in this article we will find that they were also from the British Isles. The supposed British tribe of the Catuvellauni or Catuvellans, is actually a branch of the people of the Catalauni or Catalans of Gaul that split due to the arrival of the people of the Belgians in their territory, in the area of the current Champagne (former Catalan or Catalaunian Plains).

The Catuvellauni were a Norfolk Tribe of “Ancient Brits”

Then we have the link with Norfolk and an ongoing obsession of mine (if you’ve been with me from the start, you’ll know this)

The Mabinogi.

Who’d’ve thunk, hey ?

:o)

Weird Patterns : From Sparta to Scotland

I watched 300 and had to smile. I had no idea who Gerard Butler was but his Scottish accent kept slipping through.

Himself (the man about the house) just threw me googly by saying that he ACTUALLY missed eating Jock Pies.

Jock Pies recipe.

We used to be able to buy them here, in town. I said WTF? I grew up on them.

When Lily and I went to get the messages, she’d always buy us a Scotch/Jock Pie from the Butcher. Or Baker. Sheesh. It was a long while ago :o)

I’ve made my own but…..:o(

La Rochelle

I came at this Siege via many different angles when writing my novel – Weave a Garland of My Vows

This was the first of a five part series, indie published in 2014 and a total bomb blast for me. It’s made me a fortune of about £40 in 8 years.

Whatever.

George Villiers was brilliant character to write. To me he was Marie de Rohan’s counterpart. Two sides of one coin. Friends and cohorts but never lovers. She saw right through him….and vice versa.

After Marie (the protagonist) Wat Montagu was my all time favourite person to write. He was Villiers’ spy, friend, punching bag and a man who fell in love at first sight of Marie de Rohan. He’d’ve died for her and almost did (more than once.)

Wat was in France when the Siege of La Rochelle happened. He watched Richelieu commanding the French army and felt torn.

Whilst Marie (French) was nominally Catholic, her uncles were Huguenots or Protestant, like Wat. And she did whatever she had to do when in France or England. No worries either way.

Eventually Wat left England and became a Catholic priest in France. Richelieu’s influence, brilliance, razor-sharp mind had obliterated all of his younger self. England, Marie, his family, Protestantism – none of that mattered to him anymore. Although he still supported and tried to help Henriette Marie after the execution of Charles I Stuart and her exile from England under Cromwell.

People are so effing complex.

That’s why I’m a writer :o)

Sick Building Syndrome

I’m a Brit.

I’m a TYPICAL Brit – as in, we always complain about the weather!

One of my own personal pet-hates is AC.

When he and I spend a night in a hotel anywhere in the world we have a constant fight.

Him : AC on full blast. Also the TV.

ME : Turn it all off.

Him : Shout and cuss and turn it all back on again.

And so on and so on.

I swear to God that AC, to me, means INSTANT ILLNESS. From blocked nose to thumping headache to sore throat to fatigue to full-blown flu.

When was the last time you saw a Bedouin on his camel humping (!?) around an AC unit?

AND – did you know that Bedouin and all other desert dwellers cover themselves from head to foot in either linen or WOOL?

OMG. How do they survive?

Don’t bother answering.

P.S. I have a huge fondness for the kind of bathing suit shown above. So much sexier than budgie smugglers :o)

Legionnaires’ disease, anyone?

We’d Be German But For the Good Ol’ US of A ?

My Dad was a Royal Marine Commando. Yes. He played in the band but he still did the full training and in a war sitch he and his fellow band members were trained MEDICS.

His brother, Jim, was Navy.

My Mum was a WRENS – Women’s Royal Naval Service. She and Dad met in Deal, Kent.

My younger brother was a Royal Marine Commando. He served for years in Poole, Dorset with the SBS as CommsLog.

My youngest brother was Royal Navy.

My great uncle was Royal Navy – and got medals.

I joined the Army :o)

Anyhoo.

America Won WW2.

?

By the way – the Clan Donald (Lily’s Clan) motto is shown above. The Royal Marine Commando motto is –

Per Mare, Per Terram

I’m the weakest link. That’s why I chose the Army.

UNFORGIVABLE SEASICKNESS, anyone?

Which – of course, along with an intolerance of haggis and whisky – makes me a FAKE SCOT & a FAKE VIKING.

Shrug.

I’m so happy that we are still BRITS only because of the US of A

Thank y’all

Take On Me (?)

I have such vivid memories of the first time that I heard this song. We’d just moved to Chichester. In those 2 years there, on the Roussillon Barracks Training Camp, quite a bit happened.

1986 – Ukraine got GOT by something nuke-you-lar. Oh. Another boring roundabout story.

1987 – BBC Weather ASSURED us that there was NO HURRICANE coming to England. Absolute fact.

Yeah. I’ve never believed a weather person since. We were trapped inside the barracks by huge old trees all over the place.

Boyce doing A-Ha.

Alcohol Warning – NEVER drink Russian Vodka in a Russian Hotel in East Berlin. Been there. Done that. No wonder they call it a SHOT. I was dead the next day!!!

I Left The Circus To Join Peace & Joy

What price would you pay for peace and joy?

Do you even want P & J?

The English series of The Magic Roundabout was written and narrated by Oscar-Winning Emma Thompson’s Dad. It always played at 5.55pm in the UK. Just before the BBC 6 o’clock News.

Every dang thing these days is a carousel. Round and round – same bs followed by same bs.

This is my way of saying that I’m thoroughly, totally, completely, utterly B O R E D.

Himself is home for 8 days now. So to spice things up, I’ve already told him that I’ll have to get rid of him – somehow, someway *evil grin*

He’s been on his best behaviour this past hour but it won’t last long :o)

Sigh. I’ll just spend the afternoon undoing all the sewing done this morning because I now have 2 right fronts to the dress.

When I’m in a bad mood – I Tell EVERYONE

LOL

P.S. These two songs were written because – at the height of their fame – ABBA realised that they had become nothing more than puppets, controlled by outside forces.

A lesson to be learned ?