A Modern Metropolis

Posted on December 23, 2014 by Rob

I was born in Cheadle, Cheshire, moved age one to Farnworth in Bolton, and then when my parents separated at the age of four, I came to Hyde.

It’s sad really that Hyde is famous for the sadness and pain of the moors murders and Dr Shipman in the rest of this country, because actually Hyde was once such a beautiful place. I say was, because today I think it has been allowed to die, and as this is the place I consider to be my home town after 45 years of living here, I have seen so many changes that it feels heart breaking to walk around, and see the destruction and neglect brought upon us by a Metropolitan Council.

You see, back when I was a lad, Hyde was run by its own local council, my grandfather ran as a liberal candidate for it at one time, like many of the other locals, because it was run and maintained by local people who saw it as an act of local duty and pride, sadly that too is a thing of the past.

Hyde was a country dwellers place in the early days, it was run by the gentry, and it was a thriving market town, which actually boasted the biggest market in the area. I remember well the busy Saturdays, I think in many ways it was the hustle and bustle of those wonderful Saturdays that at the middle of my life in Horticulture brought me onto the markets myself as a trader. My mum in my youth worked right at the top of the long market street, in a store called the Economy Store, I loved the place, it was the second shop down at the top of the hill, and it sold everything under the sun to help clean the house or fix it up, and all at reasonable prices. I remember standing out on the wide pavement as a boy and looking down the hill that was crawling with thousands of people, as they hurriedly did their weeks shopping before heading home for their Saturday meal. Hyde was so beautiful, Market Street was lined with trees that ran all the way down to the town hall and the market, where the trees were bigger and lush and filled your eyes with clouds of deep green foliage. I look at it now and despair.

The beauty of this town was inspiring, never in my life had I seen such beautiful buildings. We paid the rates on Greenfeild Street where there was the most magnificent building with tall Roman pillars. It felt like walking into an old Roman forum, and my brothers and myself would fantasise about gladiators and the Roman Legion. The post office, and the theatre, were massive and architecturally stunning, the fire station was opposite and we would run up and look through the large glass windows and wave at the firemen. The town hall contained the police station, and we shuddered with nerves as we passed, even though we had done nothing at all wrong, but the site of the old architecture was enough to bother us. The Town Hall was a beautiful and impressive building, today it still stands but looks a little Jaded due to lack of care. The Library was my Mecca, I visited it every week and devoured as many books as I could, it is still the one place in Hyde I love the most for all the happy memories I have of it, but that is soon to end.

Then came the merger into Tameside, a metropolitan borough, and out went the old local council and the people who cared, to be replaced with what I can only describe as career politicians. Since that time I have watched it fall brick by brick as it was uncared for and unloved by those who enjoyed the power and status as they moved everything slowly to the centre of Tameside, and their jewel in their crown Ashton.

There is no more Roman Forum, the fire station is a mile away up a side street, the beautiful Old Post Office was closed and moved to a new modern building with no charm. The theatre is empty and dilapidated, and the market has gone and been replaced with a glass roofed enclosure filled with expensive shops and cubicles no one can afford, governed by a company in Liverpool. Half the shops inside are empty, and the cubicles are being removed because no one can realistically afford to pay the high business rates and rents. The same can be said for Market St, you no longer see the sea of people walking up and down, and all the shops are take a ways and shabby. There are very few trees on the market, and even less market stalls, we did have free parking until Tameside wanted to sell the land, so they started to charge a stupid fee and that left it empty, so they told us no one uses it and demolished it to build a KFC, yet another part of American heritage added to our country, as we wipe away ours.

We do have large superstores, but that is why we have no local shops, Hyde had so much diversity to offer, and the narrow minded profit thinking of the Metropolitan Council wiped it away, we do have young women’s fashion, Agos and take a ways, stood next to nail salons and estate agents, the bedding shop has gone, so has the kitchen supplies, Old Mr Brooke the tool shop has gone along with the gardening shop and the many other small unique traders, and we have endless charity shops on discounted rates, and we have also lost the lights at Christmas.

We moan the destruction of youths, and yet like us older ones they have been robbed, gone are the disco’s and boys clubs, where are the meeting places we all attended? They have been wiped away in the so called needed cuts, yet there is always money for demolition and new buildings, they can find the cash to improve their offices. They call it progress; I call it heartbreak, narrow vision and greed.

The council at Ashton do not care about us, they sleep at night in their posh homes safe in their fat cat lives, they will not lose a nights sleep knowing that our Library will be moved so the building can be sold, one of the last beautiful buildings of Hyde and a shining remainder of what our town was once like under the caring hands of those who lived here. They deny it will be sold, but we have been here before, and everyone knows what their agenda is. The grammar school is going, the college moved to Ashton, and Hyde is a sad reflection of what it once was, and there will be no lights this Christmas. I remember the lights as a lad, they were magical as they lined the whole of the long Market Street and all of the market, strung across the road in many colours, they were so bright in the dark evening as we gazed down the street in wonder. The shop owners would decorate trees and put them in brackets above their shops to add to the beauty, it made Christmas feel so special, it just feels like another dark winters eve now, its hard to believe it is a week before Christmas, there is so little to show it.

I hear all the time that Britain is losing its identity, well I am not surprised. How can we maintain any sense of who we are, when the places we live have been asset stripped and sold off by the pound? The very thing we held pride in has been ripped away from us by local councillors who care for nothing but their own vanity, they tell us they care when they need our votes, but if they get in, the last thing they do is what we want, they are cold and self serving with no idea of value, they are wrapped up in their arrogance and see us as nothing but underlings to rule over. They are the reason Britain has fallen, and they are the ones who have destroyed our identity, and then they sit around griping how people are disenchanted by politics, hell can you blame us? We have been lied to far too many times and listened to your spin as you side step our questions and divert our answers, your lack of openness and honesty has appalled us to the point where we are weary and worn out trying to understand why it is you do not fight with us to improve the places we call home.

Hyde has died, the green has gone and been built on, the beauty was sold or torn down and replaced with ugly, what little that is left we fear will be taken; even the park has less for our children to admire. It’s so sad, because the people who live here really care about the place, and they like me are as heartbroken.

Where did the hope go, we had such high ones? Progress for the sake of progress does not bring attraction, it brings destruction, and replaces heritage with limited life. My Grandfather ran for the local council not for power or prestige, he felt it was his duty as a proud member of the town, I shudder to think what he would say if he was still here. It is called a modern metropolis, and it’s brash and dirty, and for too long now it has swept the land changing the face of the places we live, to the point where we recognise nothing. It is yet another sad reflection on the world today, where progress is built on greed, with no regard for need.

The Eleventh Hour. (100 years on)

Posted on November 11, 2014 by Rob

Posted at 11am: 11th November 2014: 100 years after the end of World War One

11 hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. we will remember them.

On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, of the eleventh month we will remember them. It is a saying that has resounded deeply within me for all of my life, and it is a good thing, because that one simple line carries the hopes and dreams of every man, woman, and child that lost their lives as part of one of the many conflicts that has scarred the life of mankind.

Today once again we mark the moment of the ending of World War One, later named the “Great War” and we stand together in silence as we remember that horrendous event that took the lives of so many of our young, and we remember them, and every life lost in conflicts around the globe since.

Think about that… Every life lost around the globe in conflicts since

Today it is 2014, exactly 100 years since the first world war. A war that witnessed the scenes of carnage and slaughter on a scale unprecedented in the modern era. Whole towns of our youngest stood together terrified and in many cases unable to talk or move, as they waited for the whistles that would take them over the walls of the trenches into a landscape of terror and carnage no one person should ever have to witness, to be cut down and trampled into the mud within the first one hundred yards of their defensive line.

They died for us… yes you sat reading this on your computer, phone or tablet. They believed in honour, they understood respect, and more than anything else, they alone made a choice based on their belief that we all should be given the right to be free. I often wonder as they felt the cold grip of death touch them, if they felt that the sacrifice they made felt like it was worth it?

Do you think as they lay there covered in blood dying in the mud, as the world around them screamed with the fear and the explosions of that moment of horror, they were comforted to know that the world that came after would be a better place, where man had learned enough to ensure something so terrible would never happen again?

I have taken part in many remembrance events in my life; I stood silently watching the faces of those old soldiers who carry that same haunted expression as the bugle sounds. I have witnessed the tears, as the memory of those times returns, and those individual moments of lost friends and heartbreak return again to the minds of those men who came back from war, forever changed, after seeing the horrors of combat. Ask any of them stood there proud that they played a part in something which was supposed to build a better world, if they want more conflicts in the world, I have, and I have never met any that want another world war, or war of any kind, what they want is for their sacrifice to have meant something.

The fact that there was a second world war, a Korean war, a Vietnam, or any of the many that has followed must feel like the biggest smack in the face to them, because they all agree on one single thing, they wanted their war to be the last.

I have never met a single parent who wants their children to die, and yet today we are still sending our young sons to face an enemy chosen by our governments, I cannot help but feel we have learned nothing in 100 years. We gather once a year and tell our young to wear the poppy of pride, and shed a tear for those who have fallen, and yet the list of those who die for us grows ever longer, it feels insulting to those who gave up everything, and has started to feel more like a pageant, than what it should be, a true and honest mark of respect, for the sacrifice those brave young men have made for our sakes. It should stand for more than just the assembly of officials with their political motivations, who gather around a stone monument and lay a wreath before it, in a routine show of mock gratitude, because until our leaders chose to walk the path of peace, their actions are false, and I feel strongly they disgrace the sacrifice made by those brave few.

We have learned nothing… our leaders have chosen ambition and capital gains above everything, and our freedoms as people have been slowly subverted. We do not live in a changed world, we are still surrounded by conflict, and where we do not fight, we sell our arms to the highest bidder. We arm factions and call them friends, who later become our enemies, and then we arm another faction to kill them and call them friend, only to once again label them enemy at a later date. We praise the capital we raise and spend yet more to create more aggressive weapons, and all the while those who died to create a better world lie silently sleeping unaware that to the leaders of this world, their sacrifice taught them nothing… its disgraceful and disrespectful.

In the UK today we have a government with debuts, who blame the benefit culture of the previous government for the woes of this land. We sneer at those who live on handouts from the state, yet no one mentions the debts we have piled up to create more weapons and troops to fight in Iraq or Afghanistan, wars that costs us millions every hour and have done so for the last decade. There is no coincidence that the rich sit quietly enjoying the profits of a campaign that brings in oil revenues and fat cheques from trade in those lands. We blame the poor, we let them suffer, and poverty is a crime in the UK.

We must honour the fallen; reintroduce the concept of respect, for it has dwindled greatly since 1914. If we cannot learn from them, we are doomed to a world of yet more pain and suffering, where parents bury their young, and are marked by grief for the rest of their lives. Those who survived are less in number every year, and soon there will be a time where we no longer have them amongst us, and so we should act now and tell those in charge that enough is enough, take the money of war and build a better land, where those fallen hero’s see the dreams and hopes they carried with their rifles into war are cherished and brought to fruition.

They came from a time where life had value, we need to turn back the clock and remember theirs, and hand back the value it held for them, for they gave it freely and it meant something.

And with the going down of the sun, we must remember them.

The Cemetery of the lost in France.

A Generational Thing.

Posted on September 17, 2013 by Rob

It’s an odd feeling when you realise you are the last of a generation, and those who have followed on behind you, will never quite understand the world you lived in. I was reminded of this recently whilst out shopping with my son who is 8 years old, when I spotted a large clear bag on the shop shelf that contained the very familiar green plastic moulded soldiers, that played such a dominant role in my own childhood.

I cannot tell you of the twinge of joy that surged through me when I saw them on the shelf, and just for a moment, I was transported back to those days lying on my bedroom floor, my soldiers lined up in rank, and ready to commit to the battle that would send my green clad army of heroes against those devilishly bad grey clad baddies. I think for a moment my son thought I had gone quite insane, and he looked at me with somewhat of a very odd expression, and it was then that I realised.

I am the last of my generation, my brother who was four years my junior was the first of a new breed of children, who did not lie around with soldiers and cowboys or action men, he was the first of a generation that was introduced to the technical age, and he probably feels the same about his beloved Sinclair Spectrum, the first of a long line of computer aided games.

A fond memory from my childhood

I still have all my cowboys… its mad really to think about it, but I have no will at all to part with them, I have the fort, the train, the wagons and stage coaches, all the Indians and a mass of cowboys, as well as a whole host of other western related accessories all packed neatly away and stored in my loft. They mean the world to me, even now at the grand old age of 49 they are one of my most precious possessions. Its not because they have value as most would think, I don’t care that I could put them on Ebay and make a fortune selling them, I care and love them simply because when I was just four years old, my Grandfather took me to the shop and bought me my very first one. He did it because I had helped out in the garden and been very well behaved that week, and he bought me Sitting Bull an Native American chief, and in my eyes at that time the coolest one in the entire glass case. I got one each week after that, and over the years my collection grew until it was huge and I reached my teenage years. Today as I write I smile at the memory of those times alone with them and the happiness they brought me, and In many ways it just adds to the feeling that when I leave this world, all my experiences of my time here will leave with me, just as those who have gone before me have.

I grew up surrounded by cowboys and warfare; most of the films I watched were of World War Two, and the epic adventurous of the Wild West, I suppose they were the two most influential aspects of several generations before me, simply due to the fact that the war was an experience most people I knew had lived through. Times have changed and things have moved on, and like those who came after me, for them their experience is somewhat different.

World War Two had a massive impact on the world, and it influenced a great many aspects of the lives of everyone for over three decades after it had happened, my parents grew up listening to the air raid sirens and hearing the hum of planes in the darkened skies at night, they lived through a time of poverty that we can never really understand in these affluent times of today, the centre of their households was not a television, it was a radio, a simple voice informing them of what was happening in the world around them, and life for them was a daily struggle to survive. Its easy to bitch and whine these days about how tough things are for us all with our Flat screen TVs and laptops, whilst stuffing a burger down our throats, but we will never understand the struggle and hardships they suffered on a day to day basis, and in a way I think it is sad that my son does not have that chance to talk and communicate with people who lived through such a traumatic time, for I believe there was a great deal I learned for the older generations in my youth, and sadly most of them have passed on, and that advice and information on that particular way of life is gone forever.

I once had the privilege of being a part of a very wonderful old mans life. Doug was the father of my ex partner, and when I knew him he was in his eighties, he was a very special person and I must admit I was deeply fond of him. I visited him every day, and over time we became very close, he was a member of the British Expeditionary Force that landed in France during the war, and he was more importantly, a survivor of Dunkirk. He spoke very little during his life of his experience of that beach and the horrors he saw, but over my time with him, he began to share more and more of what it was like. His daughter was very surprised, as in all her life she had never heard him talk so openly of Dunkirk, I am not sure why he chose me, but I felt a deep privilege that he did.

I am so lucky, because he opened up a window on a piece of pure history from this nation, unlike my history books, not only did I have the chance to hear a first hand account of that time, I also had the golden opportunity to ask questions. I talked a great deal with Doug towards the end of his life, I saw the horror in his eyes as he described in very graphic detail what he saw as he sat on the sand whilst the enemy forces cut down his friends as they crossed the beaches in their aircraft, I shared his tears and felt his pain.

I had thought of filming or taping it, but such was the sense of honour that he bestowed upon me, I thought I would have been wrong to include a device into what was a very private and personal moment, as he told me things he had never shared with his own son and daughters.

Doug was without doubt a person I admired and deeply respected, the sadness I felt when he passed away was deep and painful, and I do miss him and often my thoughts are with him. The sad thing is that with his passing a very unique chanced left us forever, the chance to look back and see through the eyes of one who witnessed everything, it is something I feel today’s younger generations are being deprived of. I used to laugh and tell him he belonged in a school, but it was no joke, he had an account of pure truth that would have greatly enhanced any classroom, and sadly we have a country filled with such special opportunities that is passing us by, as we have countless generations of memories and experiences leaving us every year.

My Own grandfather once told me, we must learn from the past, to ignore what has been before us is at our peril, I think in the later part of my life I really am starting to understand him better, and it has become a theme I often visit in my own fictional writing, for there is great wisdom in those words.

Here in the UK we dismiss our elderly, we push them out of the family and place them in sheltered accommodation or nursing homes. I feel there is an attitude of lets get them out of the way, as we do not have time to fuss, and we need to get on with more important things like working overtime or going into our online lives. We are one culture who ignores the wisdom of the past, I think looking at current events it is very obvious those important insights shared by people like Doug are ignored and labelled irrelevant, but if I had honestly recorded him as he wept and spoke of those times that filled him with horror, and brought out such desperation in him as he wanted to live and not die there in the sand, I think anyone who heard them, would have a very different view of whether or not we should use armed troops to handle every problem. Doug was a lover of life, even after being involved in combat, and taking away the life of another in defence of his country, his experience had taught him that combat was not and never going to be the answer, I can only wonder at this time how many other soldiers returning in today’s conflict situations feel the same way.

Doug is just one example of one kind of event, and I do wonder how many other important aspects of life we are missing out on? Everyday discoveries are made that inform us of yet another fraction of Celtic or Anglo Saxon life, because there are very few recorded moments from that time to teach us from the past, I look at the internet and the endless streams of garbage it holds, do we really care or need to record the sex lives of celebrities, is it really very relevant to the future of our race how many drugs they take or how many women they sleep with in one night? Who really has the time to honestly say it has interrupted their day, I know I don’t. I honestly do not give a hoot what a famous celebrity does, if that is what they feel they need, bugger em and let them get on with it, I care about people like Doug, or my Father who again has so much to offer from the life he has lived.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could record people like Doug, actually get their own words down on paper, or even better get it up on the Internet and put something worth reading online, surely that should be an important goal, to actually start logging our history as we make it. I know there are a lot of people out there who do; blogging for one thing has grown huge over the last ten years, I know as I read a huge amount of it. I think it is the best thing any of us can do, take what we have experienced and find a way of putting it online, I am trying at the moment to convince my father to share what he has done and learned during his busy and active life, he has so much to offer and I think he should speak out for his generation and share it with those who will never have the chance to witness what he has survived.

My Grandfather was right, we do need to start paying more attention to the past, I think now more than ever before we need to look back and learn from the mistakes we have made. As a race we do need to share what we know and pool it for the good of everyone, because there may come a day when we need it. I have shared my life and the conversations and experiences I have witnessed within my writing. My stories albeit the fantasy stories of Heirs to the Kingdom, have a very solid platform of truth and experience hidden beneath them, but the wisdom of that firm foundation comes through, in some small way, it is the way I express myself and contribute to the voice of my generation, and maybe we should all think a little about how we can best speak out for our own.

The true celebrities of our culture must surely be those who have survived extraordinary events and witnessed the history of our race, and so instead of brushing them aside as none entities, let’s get them online and sharing real truths about real lives.

Let me know what you think in the comments box.

(In Memory of Sapper Douglas Pixton. A Dearly missed friend)

Provoking Thought.

Posted on February 24, 2013 by Rob

When I first began to seriously write Heirs to the Kingdom, I thought I would take the story that I had built up in my mind over what had been a long period of time and get it down on paper without really thinking about the words I was committing to the file. I know that sounds a little odd for someone writing a book, but at the time I was just doing an exercise to see if I could actually achieve it. There wasn’t any thought of publishing, or even having to talk to other readers of a finished work, it was simply me alone with my thoughts and feelings, letting everything I had kept deep inside me flow into my fingertips. It is still like that today, I cannot allow the thoughts of what others may think to even enter my mind, it has to be plain and simply that deep inner voice guiding my words, and although most of the people reading my work do not see it, it is probably some of the most deeply held parts of myself that come to the surface.

Sometimes a bike ride can help reduce carbon, so each trip you make will help in a small way

Personally it can be quite a surprising experience, as things I never actually intend to share come out in the words I put down, of which I would say the most obvious has been the power that is contained in my love for the plant world and the whole of the planet on which we live. Shortly after writing the first two thirds of the Bowman of Loxley, I let a few very close friends read what I had done, and then waited with baited breath for their comments, it was to say the least quite a nervous point in time. I suppose having been surprised myself at what had come out on the paper my insecurity did increase a little, because I had made some bold statements about how we all live within this world, and pointed out a great deal of my private disillusion with the world.

One of my market trading friends Pru was actually the very first person to read HTTK, and she surprised me a great deal when she informed me that it was indeed very thought provoking, and she had thought a great deal about what was written for quite some time after reading it, and that became a bit of theme, as I allowed others to read the first drafts of the first book. I have never forgotten that time, and even though I still do not allow the opinion of others to cloud my writing of the books, I have begun to open up and share a lot of what I feel passionately about in my Blog posts.

The blogs are for me, another way of expressing my thoughts in a none story environment, it’s a place when I can be a little more direct about my point of view, yet remain within the confines of the HTTK themes. I have found that there are quite a few readers who have not read the books, who still read the blog posts, and as a writer it’s another wonderful way of allowing all the thoughts tumbling through my mind to tumble out for another audience.

The story of HTTK is very much the representation of my struggle through life with various issues, especially that of a green campaigner and supporter. I do see the world as two separate sides in these days, and to be honest at the moment I think the side of stone builders is winning. I see a lot of the ways of Mason Knox in the world today, especially in our Governments across the world as they are seduced and corrupted by big large multinational corporations, I think if Mason was indeed a real living person in today’s world he and his evil mother would very much be the people behind the scenes pushing government’s into raping all of the natural resources of the planet on a road that can only lead to the eventual destruction of everything.

I am and always will be a member of the Woodland Realm, like young Robbie in my own early teens I sought to fight those of power to change the world, and even today I still try to educate people in a way that opens them up to what is really going on globally. I have been ridiculed for a great many years for being the Hippie type campaigning for trees and life, and to be honest what felt like insults in my youth, I wear today as my badge of honour. I have campaigned for petitions and protested and even at times employed a few Specialist tactics under cover of darkness to strike one for the green cause, although these days I am getting a little too long in the tooth for covert activity, and my mind has turned to thinking about other solutions.

Writing is certainly one of them, it’s a little warmer sat at the computer than walking the cold streets handing out leaflets, and I also look at today and the way the world has changed so much since my youth, and ponder as to whether there is a better way for all of us to live together in a more balanced way.

In the UK this week, we have been told that over the coming years we will see our bills rise to an unprecedented level because as our natural gas supply runs out, and old coal power stations are taken offline, we will need to import more gas from the continent. It’s a reality that in a world where those like the Knox family, have corrupted every system, and brought the global economic climate crashing down to the benefit of themselves. Once again the poor of this country and countless others, will be forced into the hardship of bearing the costs, and the costs are not just financial, they are also a cost to the world we live in, a cost that will punish our future generations.

The biggest argument I face is that in this world of technology, people will not support an environmental point of view, because even though they are not calling the government’s into question over their lack of effort on the environment, they have embraced all the new technology so much that to take an environmental road will deprive them of the little joy they have in life these days. When you look at the wide range of products we have available to us, it is a valid point, let’s face it communication and labour saving devices have never been so good, and our lives have been transformed by all of them, but surely there has to be a way forward for all of us to do our bit.

It can appear like a double edge sword, either we change drastically and give up everything, or we continue on the road towards destruction, but really do the choices need to be so stark?

I think not. Why is so impossible to see that the environment and technology can walk hand in hand. In my books I take the best from the old

We can make a choice that uses the best technology to balance our lives, with very little change to the wat we all live

We can make a choice that uses the best technology to balance our lives, with very little change to the way we all live

world and add it to the natural world, in a way that benefits people and yet has little impact on the world, why is so hard for the UK and other countries to follow the same lead? Oil does not have to be the future of everything and neither does Gas powered, I am very anti-nuclear, simply because it’s just too expensive and as we have seen in Japan, it’s not quite as safe as we thought it was. Britain is considering fracking as a gas alternative, but that is actually banned in many European countries because it has been proven to be far more harmful to the water table than our Government are admitting. We have already had one large scale earthquake caused across Yorkshire and Lancashire because of the early drilling; do we really want to destroy and poison the North West of England?

We need jobs to get the economy growing again and take the pressure off the benefits system, as well as move away from the old fossil fuels, so why are we not looking towards Germany for inspiration? Literally on our doorstep, we have so many solutions that are good for everyone that it must provide a way that leads to jobs and cheaper fuels for all. In Germany they invest heavily in green technology, not only do they encourage solar power plates on homes, they have solar farms, which they combine with wind power to create a substantial amount of clean green energy. Ok the costs for setting it up have been high, but let’s be honest, it has to be better to pay UK citizens a good wage and build and install these systems rather than just paying our money to an Eastern European country for extra gas. Wind power across the globe rose by 20% in 2012, Ok so there are a great deal who hate the sight of windmills; personally I think they look a lot better than the gaping holes we create for strip mining, or the sight of large Fracking drills. I love windmills I have to confess, I want a small one on my house, I will probably paint it to look better than just plain white, but yes as soon I can afford it, I will get one simply because it will drop my household bills over time, which means I can invest in more fun tech for me and the kids.

The environment and technology can work as partners, and benefit all of us, but it takes a slight change of thought before we can implement it. Governments can change their view when they see that votes will not go their way, and it is up to all of us to finally make that stand and point them in the right direction. The future of this planet can only come with the will of the people, and it is up to everyone to share the information that will eventually force governments to change their mind. We have to abandon our complacency and apathy towards the way we choose to vote. It can be done as we have seen with the banking industry recently; as it was the public’s opinions that forced the government to make changes that are finally bringing them into line, and caused some very high profile job dismissals.

You make not like the way they look, but its a hell of lot nicer than drilling platforms of a devastated landscape

Just imagine this small point. This country has a huge amount of public buildings, what if we all made it clear that the government should fit solar panels to every one of them. Have you any idea how many jobs that would create in fitting and manufacturing them? Do you know how much pressure that would take off our old and rapidly decaying oil and gas burning power stations? New technology can be environmental, and a shift such as this would not change the life of anyone, but it would do a massive amount towards reducing carbon emissions in this country, let alone globally. There is a very important lesson to be learned from some of HTTK, and it shows that we can share the best of every world and create a sustainable future for our children and our grandchildren’s generation, it just takes a few moments to think about it, and then voice your opinion, which funnily enough was what the hippies were saying forty years ago, It kinds makes you wonder why we didn’t listen?

There is always another way forward if you take the time to think about it, and then get out of your seat and do something about it. If you look hard enough there are so many other ways to improve our lives and the planet we all share, and whether you believe it or not, it does not belong to those like Mason Knox, it actually belongs to all of us, its home to seven billion people.

Taking Stock.

Posted on February 21, 2013 by Rob

There comes a time in every man’s life, where it is time to stop and take stock of all you have done and achieved, for most men it is a single event that comes around forty, and it is an important moment as you look back at all you have done, and with a little hope the picture is pretty good.

I have done it a few times in my life; I often think that was due to the fact that I had to change direction often, as deep inside me there were important changes going on brought on by changes in my life. My first break up from a long term relationship, losing my job after 12 years of hard grafting loyalty, fighting a council to save my business, all of them exacted huge changes that made me stand up and take notice, and forced me to drastically alter the way I lived. Within the past two years two events again have made me sit and focus on what is important in this life we live, and I feel it poses as many questions as it answers.

I think most of us take Nature for granted, and I think within that lies a note of caution, because Nature holds all of us within a delicate balance, something brought home to me in the hardest possible lesson recently as I watched my first daughter suffer, it was a reminder that had been served to me a year earlier as I watched my father struggle when he nursed my Step Mother back to health, and from those hard and painful times, I have started to understand the true value of the gift we all call life.

A recent survey I read (Which I cannot find the link to. If I do I will add it later) listed the five biggest regrets men had on their deathbeds, and one that struck me whilst reading, was the high proportion of men who wished they had not worked so much. I think it resonated so deeply within me, because in the childhood of my first daughter I worked at large Garden Centre, and the job which I loved took me out of the home at weekends and holidays, and also involved almost dawn till dusk working hours, as a result I missed all of those important moments watching her grow up. The sad thing was it wasn’t even worth it, I worked so hard and was without doubt one of the most loyal members of staff, but when it came down to the line, the owner let me go simply to save money in a budget cut, where he kept on the cheaper members of staff. OK in the long run he lost out, after all I was the one who brought in the sales, and to a large degree could justify my long working hours with my wage, but it hit me hard at the time, and it knocked me flat on my face for a long time after. I vowed then I would not work for another employer again, and began to set up my own business.

I learned an important lesson, one which I was lucky to get earlier in life than most other men, and when by what I see as a miracle, I became a father again later in life, I knew I was not going to pass up the chance of a lifetime to enjoy the life of my new child. Today I write from home, the money as a writer is not great, I do not live as well in comparison to my days working in a large Garden Centre, but I am surrounded by my family, and even though it is a struggle at times and I do worry about what happens if my books do not sell, I still think by comparison I am a lot happier than I was back then. It does pose the quality versus quantity argument as to which approach is best, and yet being by my wife’s side and enjoying the freedom to take my children out and watch them as they excitedly investigate the world around them, for me is something of extra special value, as I now want my time here with all of them to count.

As most of you know I love Celt culture and tradition, and one thing in particular that I am reminded of at the moment, is how they believed you should honour your ancestors and all who have been before you. To the Celts, it is the sum total of each member down your family line that has brought you to this point in your life, it is a profound thought when you sit and think of the lives of your family dating back through each generation, In a way I think it is a very important point that most of us have forgotten. In heirs to the Kingdom I used the phrase, when I leave this realm, I will sit in a place of honour at my father’s table, it is a reference to this the oldest of Celt traditions and it is something that is a deep part of my own personal beliefs. Again it poses the question of when I finally leave this realm, what will make me worthy enough to earn my place at the table?

I know a few people who have worked hard all their lives, and in many cases they have built themselves up quite a business or small empire to show the world the worthiness of their achievements, and you cannot react in any other way than to admire the courage and determination they have shown in achieving such a feat. But at the moment I do question whether or not it was worth the sacrifice and effort, because I can only ask what will happen when they are finally gone? The cost they pay to achieve such a thing is very high indeed, and in most cases behind every successful business man, is a divorce or unfulfilled wife, and children who really do not know who their father truly is a person, it feels like a heavy price to pay for success to me.

History teaches us that all empires fall, so is it even worth building one in the first place? That at the moment is a question I have no answer to. Something that I think about and is important to me is the example set by my father. His father died when he was a small boy, and I often think of how my father worked his way up in his job to finally reach the top position, it was not an easy journey as he began at the bottom. Along the way he earned a great deal of respect, due mainly to his even handedness of those he managed. He spent a great deal of his free time in the Mountain Rescue, again playing his role as a team member saving the lives of a great many people. Is his father sat in another realm watching with pride? I would say a very resounding yes; my father has indeed earned his place at the table, because even when he is no longer with us, as a result of his life, other lives have been touched and changed by the way he lived. As you can probably imagine I am very proud to be his son, and I can only hope that one day I will measure up to him, and all that have been before me, and take my own seat at the table that is the legacy of my family line.

I have lived quite an unconventional life, I am a natural rebel and I have lived a life without too much planning, taking in the moment and trying to make the best of it. I have always felt we place far too much emphasis on money and possessions and how everything appears to others, we are indoctrinated from when we are small children as to what is and is not acceptable, and yet those who teach us these so called important rules for life, disregard them completely and are usually the ones who obsess over money and gather great possessions, whilst breaking every rule ever set for what is deemed to be acceptable moral or otherwise. It is their way to control us, and I think today we are seeing that clearer and clearer as we watch corrupt governments and religious leaders lie and cheat to gain power and wealth for themselves, and the banks and business grow ever larger under the rule of their fat cat owners, as inequality and injustice are heaped upon the rest of us, so why should we live our lives at their benefit? The world has become obsessed with celebrity culture and the material gains they flaunt, I mean lets be honest why does the sex life of a celebrity really matter? Who cares if they have had an affair or slept with ten people in one night, I mean really does it matter that much in the scheme of things that they spent ten million on a marriage that lasted only fifty days? Focus on your own sex life and enjoying it, and make yours the one marriage that no matter what trials you have, it works.

Is it not more important to live as feels right for us?

Shouldn’t we all live in a way that honours those who came before us? I think it is time for change, and it should start by all of us taking stock of who we are, and what is more important to us. For myself, it is important that I leave something behind that my children and wife will never forget, it is also important that I earn the respect of my father and earn my place at his table. I am lucky I am a published author, I will leave something behind, my words will remain on file in the central library of the UK forever and so future generations of mine will be able to read the words I have written and share in my world, for my books do contain my life and my feeling and thoughts, even if they are written in a way that is encrypted to the rest of the world. More importantly I want my children to hold the respect for me that I hold for my father, that is the legacy I want to leave them, I want the memories to be of happiness as they remember how I introduced them to Nature and showed them how to use the tools we have to create and build things, and also to remember the lessons I learned in life to aid them and prevent them making the same endless mistakes I have. I want them to live free of thought, and not shackled by the rules of the institutions that have crept into this world and dominated opinion for generation after generation.

The one thing I am very proud of is my thirty year role around plants. I have sown millions of seeds, taking hundreds of thousands of cuttings, and travelled this country selling them on cheaply to people who have taken them home to plant and grow on with care. As I look out of my window across the woodland and wild fields, I can see countless trees that have been planted by me, some of which are now growing into early maturity. I have collected and scatted millions of wild flower seeds across this land, and helped revive some flagging varieties by reintroducing them back into the wild, and I have fought and campaigned to save trees all around the world, so when my moment comes to walk out of this world into another one, I will know I am leaving it a little more beautiful than when I came into it. That is one thing I am immensely proud of, and even though no one will ever truly know the extent of my life with plants, I have left something behind me which with hope will remain as a marker to my life for many years to come.

The one thing I have learned more than anything else in the past 18 months is that life is precious, and it should be lived to its fullest. It is so unimportant what others think, being true to yourself and living every moment is far more important, because we really do not know when Nature will slip and the balance will change. The media is filled with endless opinion on what is and is not acceptable, but the daft thing is, it is only at that moment of time that it appears relevant, all the shocks and scandals we see blow over in days as the news rolls ever on, and it is the same of life, none of it really matters, but your family and its past heritage will, so honour it and those around you, by being true to yourself. It does not matter how you live, what is really important is that you live it well.

The Celts believed: Respect all of nature and every living soul. Live your life to its fullest, and hurt none. It is a ten thousand year old piece of advice, and to be honest, it is still the best piece of advice I have ever read.

Point of faith.

Posted on February 19, 2013 by Rob

Every now and again I get a comment, usually from a Christian about how anti-Christian my writing is. I must admit I tend not to take up the argument with them, as from previous experience I have found that those who have what I see as a blind faith, and are not at all open to a grown up discussion about religion, and in most cases they have not read my books in their entirety and have only been alerted to certain passages, which is very frustrating for me at times.

If they would sit and actually listen, they would find that I am not against their religion at all, if anything I find the concept of their belief fascinating and would relish a good conversation, it’s just I want to talk openly with someone who for want of a better word, is not simply preaching off an indoctrinated mantra at me. Most people do not take the time to listen to my observations of the Christian religion, and so therefore just sit and quote what feels like well-rehearsed lines of defence, as taught them through what I see as the institutions of doctrine. It is the one thing I dislike the most, as I am more interested in their own personal spiritual beliefs, not the same old flawed series of points and quotes as brandished by every member of the clergy.

I love the human race, nothing is more fascinating than what makes us all tick, and yes I have spent a life talking to find out more about what all of us feel inside and think about the planet we all share as home. I have a deeply spiritual side, and so at times its wonderful comparing notes, I suppose at the end of the day, we all want to know how alike or different we are to each other. I love nothing better than to sit and read, and believe it or not, I have read the bible, possibly much more of it than those who preach their religion and choose to argue with me. It may also surprise a great deal of people to find I was raised in the faith and was quite involved in it from an early age. I am indeed an ex Altar Boy and Choir member, and believe it or not I served as a replacement Sunday School Teacher for a year in my early teenage years, so I have indeed experienced Christianity from both sides of the Altar rail.

I chose to seek another path, its a personal choice based on my observations, and I do not preach that everyone should take the same path, I never would because I feel very strongly we all have a journey of personal spiritual discovery to make, and no other should be able to influence it, but for the record I will share a little of my own personal insight. In my teenage years, which I found to be a time of strong emotional turbulence and questions, I asked my vicar for answers, and rather than sit and talk to me as another human being, I was treated like an inferior and lectured, and told to forget and ignore what was essentially a very natural process of development that I was going through, even if I didn’t realise that at the time. As a result I began to search out my own answers, and the facts I discovered changed my thoughts and feelings about Christianity forever. Later I discovered Paganism, although I am still uncomfortable with the word Pagan, which in my mind was a derogatory word used by the church, to address people who were seen as lesser because of their beliefs, and I coined the term Earth Faith to more accurately describe my beliefs at that time, although as with many terms used in the past, Pagan has become a term used and accepted by everyone today.

I looked at the facts of Christianity and found so many contradictions and acts of misuse that I felt it would not suit me as the person I had become, and that is still very much true of today. Do not get me wrong, I really do not have any problems with those who wish to follow the Christian path, there is much within the teachings that even today I still live by, the Christian ideal does provide a good blue print of how to be a better human being and live within this world, I just find a world that also serves and balances within nature is more suited to my spiritual belief system and works better for me.

I am writer, and it is the experience of writing and editing which in many ways when mixed with the facts helps me to gain a better understanding of how the words of Christianity were spread across the globe. Let’s face it the Bible has become the foundation stone of most of what we see as the civilised world, You could even say that it is the most powerful book ever written, but it is within that simple fact that my biggest doubts were formed. I suppose the natural researcher within me was not given the satisfaction it sought, and from looking at just pure facts, I very quickly came to the conclusion that many of the details of early Christian text came about through human error, and so therefore over the last 2000 years more and more errors have led to what has become the foundation of society, let me elaborate a little.

2000 years ago the only way to make a book was to sit and handwrite it all down, and then bind it together, which is how the very first gospels were created, many of those early copied handwritten gospels survive today in one form or another. My problem lies in the fact that the only way to copy those first gospels was to copy them by hand, and it is here in that small fact that my experiences of being a writer takes over. It is simple human behaviour that when copying a text by hand natural mistakes are made, something I know well from my own experience of writing. The brain runs slightly faster than the hand, and if you are reading and writing at the same time there is no doubt whatsoever mistakes will be made, its completely unavoidable, and if you doubt that then try spending a whole day sat copying a book down on to paper, you will find there will be more errors that you ever imagined.

So take the very first books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, as written by those very disciples and copy them, and the result will be an original book with mistakes, because there would have been errors in the very first copies, so we have a copy containing the original mistakes and also new ones made the person who copies it. Add to that the fact that the original books were written in Aramaic, and had to be translated into as many languages as was required to spread the word of Christ, and suddenly your second generation copy gives birth to many wrongly translated copies, all of which will be copied to increase the amount of books that would be required to spread Christianity and enable it to grow as it has over the years.

I think it is safe to say that when the books were translated from Hebrew, they had already been copied countless times and so had become riddled with mistakes, and also translation is not an easy thing, a great deal of the time translating a book requires the one doing the translating to make adjustments so that the books become an interpretation of the Aramaic text, and again the books change and distort from that original copy of the gospel.

My concern grew from the fact that books were copied probably thousands of times by hand before we reached a time where printing was possible, and at that point when a modernising Church made the decision to print a new revised copy of the Bible, which I believe was somewhere around 1611, well over a thousand years had passed and the handwritten books they had were deeply flawed and not a very close resemblance to the original books. I find that alarming, because this one book has set the laws and rules of behaviour that modern society had been built upon, and yet this version also had to be approved by not only the church, but also the government of the day, it is a very flawed version of events that has deviated away from what was written in the originals.

It is fact that today there are countless thousands of handwritten copies of the New Testament held in museums, and places of study all over the world, and no two are the same, every one of them is completely different, which possess the question just which one exactly is the closest to the one’s written by the disciples? The oldest copy of the New Testament dates to about two hundred years after the death of Christ, and it is just a small fragment of paper containing a few dozen lines, and they do not match up that accurately with what we read today. I find that to be quite a disturbing fact considering how important the Bible has become as a moral and social compass to modern day society, and it is something I find difficult to accept.

That is just one of my own personal feelings about the bible, and it is not one I have ever asked any other to agree with, but when I add to that, the endless contradictions I found in the Bible, such as “an eye for an eye” compared to “Turn the other cheek” and love each other as you would yourself, one can only ask the question which one do I follow? The simple fact is that there are thousands of contradictions, which leads me to believe that it is so open to interpretation, that you can pretty much use any aspect of the Bible to make an argument to sustain any point of view you please, be it degrading women, burning witches or wiping out other religious faiths by pronouncing them as Satanic, even though Satan is a Christian creation who has nothing to do with other faiths. The one fact I do know to be true about man is that they will interpret things to bend to their own will and gain them the best of any situation, and sadly I do feel very strongly that is the truth of the institution we all refer to today as “The Christian Church.”

I am no fan of the church, the past is documented with the facts of how they have abused their power to control and hurt the masses, even in the modern world of today, and I have to confess I see them now in the same light as I would any other multinational corporation, and to be honest they have not provided any of us with actions to prove me wrong. All I see is the mantra of their god, used to increase their profits, gain land and exert more control over the people, which is why I am not interested in the spin of mindless Christian Mantra and would much more prefer a conversation about how a person feels personally about the faith they own as their own as an individual and how their belief helps them through life.

At the time of the life of Jesus, who I do believe was a real person alive at that time, there were also many people who acted as commenters on life around the world, and yet in all of the manuscripts (Which unlike the gospels, are the original handwritten texts that have survived) there is no mention at all of Jesus, the first real reference comes over two hundred years after his death. Maybe it is me, and yes this again is my own personal belief, but if Jesus was the man we have been led to believe, such as a man capable of working miracles, do you not think these people would have heard such tales of wonder and reported them at the time?

None of them did, which I feel possibly can be interpreted into the fact that Jesus was somewhat of a local hero, and it was those locals who held him in such high esteem that they chose to remember his life by writing about it. I find it hard to believe he was the son of a god who lives in some realm above us that science cannot detect, I do believe as the Dead Sea Scrolls infer that he was indeed the son of a Roman noble, who for want of a better words became a champion of the poor in his local vicinity. If the bible is correct he was a very well educated man for his time, and that would have gained him a huge amount of respect, I certainly feel he had great wisdom, and many of the things he taught at that time are still very relevant today, and yes all of us can benefit from his words, but as for being a deity, I am sorry, but I personally cannot accept that at all, but again for those who do believe I really have no issue with that.

I chose to walk a different path from Christianity many years ago, and it is one I feel is a more natural approach to every living thing on this planet, for I feel that to supress a natural feeling or urge as the Church instructed me to is an unnatural way of being. Through Pagan belief I found I could embrace and express myself as a person openly without judgement and live more in tune with who I am, and that for me made a huge difference to my life at a difficult time. We all have one life on the planet, and as we live we form our own natural affinity with what surrounds us, and through that we take a path of spirituality that serves us best, mine is Earth Faith, but that does not mean I am anti-Christian or any other religion for that matter, what it means is that I am aware of who I am as a person, and I acknowledge and accept the responsibility of all I feel and all I do. I am by no means perfect, my life has been a struggle like everyone else’s, and is littered with bad judgement and mistakes, but I have learned wisdom from all I have done, and when my time here comes to an end, I will have that wisdom in my final breath and it will ease my passing into something else.

The core ethics of Christianity offer everyone a sense of hope, and a path that embraces everything and everyone you meet, I think I can safely say as do all religions, and yet it is my observation that especially in the world at this time, we are placing too much emphasis on an individual’s spiritual beliefs, and it is being used as a weapon of division, one I feel is detrimental to the human race. I do not believe any religious views should be used to judge an individual or be used as a means of control. I do not believe that a religion should have the power to dictate government policy, or be applied on mass in schools. I feel very strongly that spiritual belief should be kept within the confines of the family home, and be chosen to fit the individual. There is too much hate and pain created by these so called religions of peace and love, and I do actually think that the leaders of each religion should be more accountable for the institutions they run and get their houses in better order, because the hate is preached at a higher level than the love these days.

So if you are one of those who has pointed the finger at my writing and sat in judgement of me because of it, please consider this. Believe what feels right for you as one unique person, and if that is Christianity then that is right for you, and I am happy you feel that way, but please do not make snap judgements about me because we do not serve the same god. Christianity limited my view of myself and the world, and so I searched for a path that I could identify with, and yes at times it does appear in my writing, its bound too because I write from the heart of who I am, and through my writing I try to share some of the wisdom that has helped me through life.

I feel my writing in Heirs to the Kingdom has shown all sides of the coin, at its heart it is a story of a Pagan Woodland peoples who have to fight to protect their way of life, against the survivors of a post apocalyptic Britain, who wish to resurrect the old modern ways of man. Yes I have shown some corruption within the Church of Christianity, but I also feel I have shown the kindness and love from the other side of the Church, pay more attention to Sister Mary and Father Warren, and you may find yourself surprised, especially in some of my views of tolerance towards each other. I write about my own country, which for the time being is a predominantly white Christian country, I dare say if I lived elsewhere, lets say the middle east, maybe my story would focus on Islam rather than Earth Faith, the simple truth is I write what I know, and I know Christianity and Paganism enough to be relatively accurate, I will admit as a writer I do have the liberty of fudging a few facts to aid the flow of the story, but saying that the religious belief is still only a tiny part of the story as a whole.

Finally I will state for the record, that my own personal belief is that all of us should believe in something, not necessarily the same something, but I feel we all have a spiritual side that should be nurtured as we would every other aspect of ourselves. If yours happens to be Christian or any of the other faiths, then more power to you. This world lacks a great deal of tolerance, as we have seen in recent times, we show a lack of wisdom and understanding in many aspects of life, such as sex, gender, sexuality, and religion, would it not be wonderful if we all embraced each other’s uniqueness, and tried a little harder to get along, maybe then we can all sit down and have wonderful and fulfilling conversations about life and all the many wonders that come with it and live more peacefully as one race with more harmony.

The simplest of things.

Posted on January 27, 2013 by Rob

Sometimes, its the simplest things that can have the most significant impact.

It is funny at times the strange little memories that stay in your thoughts. It was the first week of January 2013, I was out shopping with my wife Rin and the kids, and we had stopped off at Argos to pick up some bits and pieces for the computer. Rin was paying at the counter, and I was stood by the bank of TV’s with the kids, as the store was pretty busy due to the Sales, and across the room I noticed my eldest daughter. It seems so trivial, but it is such an important memory that is fixed in my mind, I think it is because she looked so happy as she flicked through the catalogue talking to her partner. I remember smiling as I noticed how she softly stroked her large bump, she was just weeks away from giving birth, and in all her 29 years, I don’t think I have ever seen her as happy as she was in that single moment, which is possibly why it is such a vivid memory.

The next weeks followed, and I felt the excitement grow, talking on the phone with her really got me going, and my excitement spilled out over the following days as I talked with my youngest daughter, and asked her how excited she was to know that very soon, she would meet our new edition to the family. It was a special time as I grew with impatience looking forward to finally meeting my first grandchild. The call came at 11pm on January 24^th, and as Rin handed me the phone saying it was my daughter, I felt the explosion inside me as I put the phone to my ear to get the confirmation that I was finally a Granddad. It was not my daughter, it was her partner, and he was crying, after that his words blurred as just the few words of “Problem, No Heartbeat, So Sorry” crashed into my universe.

Rowan Elizabeth Morgan, my first grandchild was born sleeping on January 24^th 2013.

It is so hard to describe the rest of the night; I can only say shock, numbness, tears, and an overwhelming pain radiated from my core. The night crawled past and became morning, as I sat at my desk looking for answers that were never going to come, closely followed by torrents of more tears, more pain and then anger. The injustice of it, the added pain of knowing the devastation of my daughter, and so slipped past the following day into another night lay awake in bed feeling yet more anger mixed with tears of hopelessness and more inner pain. Before I knew it, Sunday had arrived and I was at the hospital having held my Granddaughter in floods of tears, and gazed upon her small delicate beautiful little face, she was indeed an angel, but that just made it harder, as there are no answers as to why?

The most harrowing moment was watching my daughter hold her child, and knowing that soon the time would come when she would be taken away forever, it tore me into pieces to see the look on her face as she finally handed her daughter back to the nurse to be taken away forever. That is a memory that will haunt my dreams until the day I die, it is an act so unnatural that I would not wish it on any, not even my worst enemy, I barely held it together and bit hard on my lip to maintain my composure, so that I could stay strong for my daughter, it was horrendous and possibly the hardest thing I have ever faced.

My Daughter’s sobs, stabbed at me like knives as they took little Rowan away, and all I could do was hold her as there were no words I could say to ease her pain as she wept telling me, “It should not be like this, I should be taking her home, I don’t want to leave her here Dad, it’s not right.” That is another memory that will never leave me, neither will the feelings of complete helplessness, as for the first time in her life, I could not breeze in and fix things like I had always done for her, as a parent and a human being I felt utterly useless and incompetent and could only hold her as she wept. I knew then I had to find some way or something that would ease the pain she was going through.

Someone beat me to it, but I am not complaining, if anything I am so utterly thankful.

A little while later, the Midwife presented my daughter with a Memory Box. A simple box that is just a little larger than a shoe box. I will never forget as I sat and watched my daughter’s face as she opened it and went through its contents one at a time. A small box with Rowan’s Name bracelet, A frame into which there was a clay plate that had the impressions of Rowan’s tiny hands and feet on it, A small plastic case containing a lock of Rowan’s dark hair, a small remembrance candle, a tiny crystal angel, a teddy which was one of two, one of which had been placed with Rowan. A set of pictures taken of her with her mother, and a blank CD, onto which she could store more, and also a letter.

The letter was from Kirsty and Micheal McGurrell, they were the ones who provided the hospital free of charge with the box. Kirsty like my daughter, suffered the same fate back in 2009, and as a result when she had recovered, she set up an organisation called 4louis (Named after her born sleeping son). The box filled with small important items that my daughter was looking at, and was understanding that she would not be leaving the hospital empty handed after all, it is no substitute for losing a child, but I saw the love and relief in her eyes and for a few moments felt my own pain subside and a little hope start to grow.

It is impossible to replace a lost child, but it is possible to ensure that there is something to remember them by. I am almost 50, and fortunately I have lived a good life, and if for some terrible reason I lose a loved one, then I know I have years of items and memories that I can hold in those moments of need. With a child born sleeping there is nothing, not even a minute of life, and it is for that reason that I will be eternally grateful to Kirsty and Micheal for having the foresight and dedication of love to ensure my daughter has something.

I came home tonight and talked to my wife, and we both agree that this is a cause worthy of support. I went onto the internet and found www.4louis.co.uk and we read every page and felt stronger and stronger in our belief. 17 children every single day in the UK are born sleeping, that is 17 daughters stricken with grief, and 17 heartbroken dads feeling as lost and unable to find words of comfort for their children. 4louis is a charity that needs more support, it was only as recently as December 2012 that they managed to put their very first boxes into Stepping Hill hospital, and I am so grateful that they did, because five weeks later one of those boxes contained the only proof that Rowan Elizabeth was ever here.

Corinne and Myself decided tonight that this charity will become our number one charity. I am not a famous writer, I do not have thousands of pounds to give them, but if I did I most certainly would, and from today onwards I am going to build and include a page on my website with dedicated links for 4louis. Millions get spent every year on research and improving the odds of mothers with babies at risk, but no matter how much research is done, there are still too many daughters like mine who will have to suffer the horrendous pain of a child born sleeping, and so I intend to put my time and efforts towards helping them.

My company VCP, which promotes all my writing and books, will from now on make regular contributions. A simple memory box has a production cost of just £16 per box, and so I would ask everyone supporting my work to consider just a small contribution towards such a wonderful and caring organisation, whose sole purpose is to try and help ease the suffering of parents and grandparents going through emotional hell. The box my daughter has at home today, will help ease her through the next days, weeks, months, and years, and with 17 new cases every day, we need to make sure that there is a constant stream of money to support this cause.

Not only do they supply free of charge the boxes, they also supplied camera’s, printers and photo paper, to ensure that the service will not cost the hospital anything, so they can afford to maintain such care and attention. The charity also is starting to provide extra equipment to help the special departments dealing with born sleeping children, so please join me, and even if you can only spare a couple of pounds, take it from a Dad who has watched his daughter suffer in a most horrible way, that small amount of cash is worth everything to a Dad like me.

Please visit the website, and watch the video, and then browse through the site and see what amazing work they do, and if you can spare just a little, then from myself on behalf of my daughter, I thank you and will be forever grateful.

Robin John Morgan.

http://www.4louis.co.uk/

Pride in my Heritage.

Posted on June 2, 2012 by Rob

This weekend we will all mark the celebration of the diamond jubilee of Queen Elizabeth the second, and then within seven days we will enter into the European football championships, and within a few months the nation will rise with pride as we host the Olympic games in our countries capital. It is an astounding combination of events that will all have one central theme, and for myself personally, I think it will be a good thing, all of us no matter what our current situation will have the opportunity to show some national pride.

I say this not as a way of attacking other creeds or cultures, for those who know me, know that I am very much a live and let live kind of person who embraces other creeds and cultures, for I think it is in the knowledge and understanding of others, that we enrich our minds and our own lives.

I will say that one thing that has concerned me for many years, is in the way I feel the culture of being British has slowly eroded away, as many of our traditions have fallen by the way side and we have given up our right to show and celebrate our own culture. It is sad because out of all the nations on this planet, the United Kingdom has indeed a very rich and inspiring past. I am at heart an Englishman, born in Cheshire and very proud of that, it does not mean I am some flag flying thug, who wants to take up arms and rid the country of those who do not share my skin colour or faith. What it does mean is that I am a simple living man who loves the country he lives in, and actually enjoys the diversity of those creeds and cultures that have decided to live on our shores. But the history of this nation is something close to my heart and is indeed something I want to preserve, as I think it is important to all of us, as it has defined who we are, and I think that is something this year more than most, we should celebrate.

We are a very small island and yet we have achieved so much, if you gaze back through time and look at what we have endured, there is a wealth of facts that show the power and resilience of our people. We have been invaded by Rome, and Scandinavia, and mixed with Saxons and Normans as we stood for what we believe in and it gave us a stronger sense of identity, something I think can be attributed to what we now call the war time spirit, that saw us through the trying times of the second world war. It is indeed ingrained into all of us whether we know it or not, and it is something I have woven deeply into the tapestry of the books that I write, for I believe it is something we should give up at our peril.

I love the admiration that the peoples of America and Canada give out in their patriotism, if you look to the Scots and the Welsh, for years they have fought for the resurrection of their culture and identity, and yet it appears that the English care less for something that should be ingrained in their heart. As a child I danced round the May Pole on May day, most people wore a red rose of St Georges Day, we sang Rule Britannia and the national anthem in school, and at the end of every film at the pictures. At the time I did not understand the significance, but as I have grown older it has become more and more important, because these things provide our sense of history and belonging in our daily lives. I do not believe these to be out dated and racist views, it is our roots that teach us the right path of our future, something again that has become an important theme in my writing, as it is a deeply held belief of my own. My grandfather once told me it was the duty of every Englishman to stand for justice, and fight any injustice he encountered, I can see him now in my mind as he told me, with his stature rising and his face filled with the sense of pride you would see on that of any soldier. For him Queen and country were of the ultimate importance, and nothing would ever shake that belief.

Today in our countries capital we will witness the start of a very historic event, there will be all the pomp and ceremonial pageantry of the past, as our Queen marks her diamond jubilee. I too once thought the monarchy should be let go as we moved towards a republic, it was the ignorance of youth, for today I will celebrate my heritage as an Englishman and pay tribute to my queen, who will match the jubilee of Queen Victoria and by the end of the year surpass her reign and become the longest serving monarch of this country. It will mark yet another milestone in the rich cultural heritage of this country and I will be proud to have been able to witness it.

We have come a long way since the days of the Celts, for it was they who laid the foundations of communities and the identity of those in this land. Since then we have spread from these shores and have been influential in the making of this world, not all we have done we should be proud of, for like all cultures we too have a questionable past, but as a race we have strived together and we have made sweeping changes to the benefit of others. This country has opened its doors and given shelter to many, we have as a single country based in a single faith welcomed and protected those who are not like us, and that too is a very important element of who we have become. It makes me proud to know it is a piece of the puzzle that is my heritage, and for everyone who is born in this land, you too should share that pride.

Great Britain is a small cluster of islands, and yet we still speak out on the world stage with authority. We are renown for the skills of our craftsmen, we are known for our dry sense of fun and humour, we excel in the worlds of arts, our engineers are sought by every nation. We have the greatest system of law and social justice, and have a tradition of pioneering exploration. We once ruled the waves with the best ships of any fleet, and our model of diplomacy has been copied all over the world. Britain’s inventions and pioneers modernised the world we know today, and from our long history of war, we learned to be great at aiding others bring peace and liberty. The thing I love the most is we have a tradition of inspirational writers, and I would hope in time with more practice I could enter that hallowed part of our heritage, who knows? It is an impressive list that goes on and on, and all from this tiny isle surrounded by sea.

There are voices within this country that advise we should play it all down in the name of not offending others, but my argument remains the same. I am proud to be English and a part of the union of this kingdom, I wish no harm or offence to others, as this is deeply personal to me and the land I live on, and I would invite them to join in with me and enjoy this great sense of occasion, and gain a deeper understanding of who I am because of my heritage, discrimination does not live at my address.

I do think over the coming year we should raise the flag, support our football and olympic atheletes, and stand for who we are, maybe there is a lesson to be learned from America and we should take a page from their book, and stand unashamed of our heritage and celebrate together as one with great pride. I think not to do so, would be the greatest insult we could pay to those who forged our history and our heritage.

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