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Some may question what the following has to do with being childless. Maybe, on first read, it doesn't but read again and you will see that it most certainly does. Alright then, some of it…

But, all of these little tales reflect elderly, alone kind of life. Affect a person as an awoc. An awoc is affected .

Anyway, think about it - reflect - you'll get it.


Dogs, albeit, most animals can help to get you together. Help you to meet new friends. Indeed are your friend.

In all good faith you join a dog walking group where you find the average length of a walk is 11 miles or they gallop at the speed of athlete. I did start my own dog walking group once. We'll leave it there.

But animals make your life, are your life. If you're alone like me and so many others, your pet is your life -saver.

These animals need much more acknowledgment. They're doing the work of Social Care and NHS rolled into one. Without Lilley and her predecessors, I'm not sure where I'd be right now. And I mean that.

So on that subject, In our local awoc group we have a lovely couple who own a pair of beautiful tiny, Sheltie dogs. They are fully trained as official Service Assistance Dogs and, out of their little uniforms, are very naughty indeed I'm pleased to report. So I asked our couple if they thought there was any chance Lilley could be trained as one? She does help me with my various ailments.

Listen up, I've been persuaded to investigate the possibility of scruffy, chuffy little Lilley becoming a Service Assistance Dog. For disabilities.

Now, that will be a posting. Keep watching…


I've given up on the lonely thing. I'm clearly destined to be eternally lonely. After decades of decadence it came as a shock I can tell you. A relief to my system but also a shock.

Does it affect my mental health? I don't know, do I? I have to survive. I live on my own so my mental health had better behave and take a back seat. It has no choice. I have other ailments to deal with. Can’t be pandering to a fit of the downers. I can’t. There’s no time, there’s no space in my head. Tell me how to deal with a low day? ‘Cos I don’t know. Talk to who? I live alone. Real life is more than a snappy line in a Royal’s script. Or a premier league footballer’s twitter likes.

One thing I do know is my self esteem is far too high for its own good sometimes. Maybe it should calm itself down a tad. I call it knowing my own worth. Having been through a lot, a lot, mainly on my own, the only way to survive is to learn about yourself. To know yourself. To like yourself. I like myself. I'm happy with myself. Not to say I excuse my 'mistakes' but I accept and forgive myself. Don't make those mistakes again.

What I would say is if anyone has strong enough feelings about - say - me, either simply ignore me or confront me.

Because here's the thing - the saying 'get thee behind me Satan'. I've discovered there is no need to tell Satan to shovel off because behind you is where Satan spends his/her (?) time. Behind your back…

Back of the net😄🙏


I sent an angry tweet referencing AgeUK, that great bastion of local support. For some, maybe. AgeUK had said if you are lonely et al, go 'speak to someone'. As you do. So I said - who? Certainly it wasn't certain 'areas' of local branches, let's put it that way. But who is AgeUk suggesting an elderly, lonely, childless person go 'speak to'? A pointless, throwaway line. Back it up AgeUK.

Actually, tell you what - all those adverts including the young Royals telling us to 'talk'. What's your number again, Harry?


We're being asked to take in refugees. I've signed up - now what? A veritable minefield of Home Office legistlation that I'm not sure I can manage as, frankly, being alone, elderly and childless - I can't be arsed. We're doing this, we're offering, we get the reference need. 'Now' - says a civil servant 'do something on another form', pick someone from lists, phone up these strangers with no English, make friends over zoom, fetch them from whatever airport, port etc they land at. Find them a job, take them to college interview. Teach them English. Take them to job interviews'. I can't do that. Seriously, I can't do all of that. I really thought the authorities would support and take over. All I do is supply the room, feeding and friendship, offer support. But I simply don't have that sort of energy and know how. Not copping out, wanted to cop in, but please make it a bit easier. And don't start on how difficult it is for them fleeing a war zone. That's why I'm offering. But I'm not in a war zone (am I?) Many folk over the age of mid 40s are saying the same thing as me. At 73 and alone, repeat at 73 and alone, I definitely am. I was ready. I was planning the beds. If anyone here has offered you will know what comes next after your first easy form fill. I gave up after paragraph two on the next bit. People kept on and on telling me where to phone for being put in touch with refugees, usually some Church organisation. I kept saying - we are sent the full government list. That's not the biggest problem here.

Wonder if I'll get letters?


I feel you can't win as an awoc like what I am. Unless I conform and become a U3A convert (nothing against the U3A, it's a marvellous concept just a bit 'stand in line' mentality. You know, some woman with a permed bouffant is always in charge. Folllowed round by a smart gent called Charles. And someone called Marjorie in total obeyance. (Oh Hell's bells).

It's me, it's me, it's me….I know. The U3A and coffee mornings are marvellous. So are the coach trips. I guess I'm missing out.

I imagine the U3A will be politely relieved at my rejection


There seems to be a rearing up of the Royal heads as the Cambridges embarked on their tour of Belize. .

It isn't some sort of free jolly, to be fair. They're never not working whilst out there, are they?

I wonder what we want from our Royal family? Not being a big Royalist myself, but neither against, I tried to answer my own question.

If I'm being honest, it's what we have from the top tier - right now. The Cambridges taking over more public duties (I would like Kate to come out of her polite, middle England shell more. A journalist described her as a 'glue-gun smile'. Also other charities, apart from childrens' charities, do exist Ma am?) Charles and Camilla are great, leave them alone. Time for the Queen to step down though - isn't it? Time for C&C to step up. I want to see King Charles and Queen Camilla.

And, by the way, for sweet Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the wee donkey's sakes, leave the Sussex gruesome twosome where they are. In La La Land suits them very well.

Should we 'do away with the Royals'? No, we should not. But, like the underground alphabet soupers, MI5-10 (whoever) more transparency please, regarding financials and accountability.

I expect to be placed 'on a list' now.


I will finish with a subject very dear to my heart. Neighbours. Neighbours from Hell to be exact. Anyone have 'em? They breed them where I live. In holes deep in the ground, then, when they've 'matured' (I say that with humour), they are released into the wild. Coming to a house next to you - soon.

Mine have not only ruined the hedges, shrubs - all on my land, my actual land - by razing them down (try to get a lawyer if you can. They'll act but won't act). Inform the local Community NotthePolice who know diddly squat about garden law but will stand at the top of your garden and shout 'he has a right to cut the hedge' like they know. Which, by the way, they don't.

Sometimes I feel like I'm either living with Jack Nicholson in Cuckoo's Nest or Stepford Wives and The Wicker Man have inflitrated.

Can somebody tell me what the **** is going on?

Is it because I am an AWOC? Easy to bully? Elderly?


To finish on a chemically induced high. (Daily dose of painkillers if you’re asking. Don’t be sily) I did have a couple of puffs of a friend's spliff once. Years ago. Acquired from her market trader friend. Turned out to be LSD. I thought I was driving home along the grassverge drain that night (I wasn’t). I remained in a state of zoned out stupor for several days. My boss couldn’t understand why a fair bit of April 1993 was wiped off the Target and Objectives sheet. I wasn’t available to my own brain. Pointless just pointless. Why would you do it? I never (not to my knowledge) touched a waccy baccy ever again.




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