A Post to Ponder Upon

 I don't know what to blog about this morning although I have one thing I would like to blog about and that is the quiet life of blogs and why I do it.  But that is a difficult topic to put into words that won't be twisted.  I like a quiet life and to have followers who have a conversation with me like I would if I was out in a social situation.  It is a conversation to be had here with people who read and may be interested, not a conversation of bitterness and hate.  It does not always come across as happiness but I am a happy person in reality and when I meet my friends of which they are quite a few it is a time of fun, not corrections and bitterness and someone waiting at the door to correct the church cleaning or the church dusting or the church administration to correct the duster and give the reprimand.  It is a time of friendship.  

It is a time to celebrate the shared love of Britain as it was with shepherds pie, runner beans and gravy.   It is the shared realisation that if we do not stand up to attacks carried out on innocent people then queers will be thrown from buildings next and women will be put in the kitchen while the men eat.    It is a shared place for the love of Britain and its culture and the cabbage and peas and roses and perms and slow buses and a scrunched gear change and a summer's day with a sun hat and a cucumber sandwich and a 99.  It is the shared venue for the summer dress and the white socks and a bicycle and sandals put into the body of the elderly sipping water from the fridge door and watching Netflix instead of the BBC.  

The culture of Britain with a tin of sardines and tea together and Blue Peter and the News and an earthquake in Skopje and knitting squares and an atlas to see where it is and Top of the Form and school next day.   It was Aberfan and prayers.  

Now it is a quietness before bed and prayers to the penance of the day's bad thoughts and repentence for the bad word that was uttered in disgust at Louise Haigh and Angela Rayner and extra prayers said that it will all go away and will help with sleep and calm before the next day and it starts all over again.  It is personal life in the head that can make or break the night. 

The blog is for me to talk and find the rights and wrongs of me without the telling or the jerking or the ticking off, mum and dad did enough of that,  they fuck you up your mum and dad, they may not mean to but they do, in the words of Philip Larkin, so leave it at that because all that has been done and I don't want any more of that now.  It is over, those days are gone. 

Today is my day to do as I wish in the heat of the day.  Within the love of Britain that has the creation of the economy and pleasure and satisfaction of work, a Mars bar between six, skinny children who weren't starving and a tennis racket and ball in the park.  

Kevin Keegan's death brought back many memories for me of the 1977 Liverpool team of Ray Clemence, Phil Neal, Joey Jones, Tommy Smith, Ray Kennedy, Emlyn Hughes, Kevin Keegan, Jimmy Case, Steve Heighway, Ian Callaghan, Terry McDermott.  I felt very nostalgic when I read those names.  I could tell you what I was doing at any moment in time in that year, where I stood, what the kitchen was like, what the bathroom was like, where I was, where I worked, who I was with, what we did, what we said.  Kevin Keegan in 1996 I could also tell you about that night as well when Alex Ferguson got the better of him and Kevin went mad.  He was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, awarded the Ballon'd'Or twice, and had a fight with Billy Bremner at Wembley.   RIP Kevin.