Live coverage from my house, all you need to know about the general election.
Who were the other candidates? How boring would elections be if we didn’t have those from minority parties willing to stand… Nick the Incredible Flying Brick, The Official Monster Raving Loony Party, 162 votes and the other strong contender Bobby “Elmo” Smith, Independent, 19 votes.
Other candidates had fun along the campaign trail…
But a more traditionally dressed chap is going to be the new Prime Minister.
Elections are strange things. The only certainty being that new governments rarely keep all their election promises. Hopefully a good outcome, but there were people who got in that we certainly don’t want and some MPS who did not deserve to lose their seats, let down by others in their party. If results were analysed how would you measure success if you were elected?. How many people actually turned up to vote and how many voted for you in desperation to keep someone else out?
Our polling stations have just closed and a long night lies ahead for some. At my polling station the chap checking our photo ID greeted me theatrically with ‘Welcome to the brightest spot in BCP ( the very unoriginal name of our combined councils ). A dull church hall! Then he said ‘Do you like quizzes.‘ Yes I do. ‘Just one question, what is your name?‘ Luckily I passed.
Out and about all day, passing polling stations that weren’t mine, I did see a steady trickle of people heading to vote. On the news they are not allowed to mention politics so instead they kept showing pictures of dogs tied up outside polling stations. Someone on Facebook complained that dogs were not allowed in. One of my earliest memories is of standing outside a polling station in the dark with a tall policeman, the traditional Bobby with a helmet, while my parents went inside. My daughter took her boys with her to vote at 7am and they were allowed in, though probably not allowed to draw pictures on the ballot paper.
Coverage of the count has started on television, how to fill in the long hours waiting for the first count to come in? Lots of intense discussion about what happened last time and what may or may not happen this time. Excitement builds as we start seeing candidates on the stage setting their faces for the right expression when the numbers of votes are read out… Count Binface, Sensible Party 6023 votes, Janet Gogerty, Tidalscribe party 23 votes…
Will you be staying up to follow the results?
If you don’t live in the United Kingdom are you interested?
Sundown seemed to come early, but it turned out I was actually dead, which came as a bit of a surprise. It was a pretty sky, but not as dramatic as one might expect for one’s last sunset.
The sky faded away imperceptibly and I was left standing, standing where? A station concourse with many other figures standing around looking confused. Nobody spoke and we all avoided looking at each other, so we were left staring at the multitude of signs, like the London Underground only more confusing. Which direction to choose? I naturally edged towards those in English, or rather those that included English amongst other languages.
CHRISTIAN
So we/they were right all along? No hang on Muslim, Hindu, Atheists… they were in for a surprise… Jews, Agnostics, Jainism…
I decided Christian might be the logical choice, but as I stepped forward three more signs came up… Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant… surely earthly divisions didn’t continue in the higher realms? I decided it would have to be Protestant and when Church of England and nonconformist signs lit up, C of E seemed the sensible choice, though I should really have gone with agnostic.
A guide floated into view and called Christine Brown. I nodded, I couldn’t seem to find my voice.
‘Year of birth? We have several Christine Browns.’
That was hopeful, perhaps there had been a mistake and I was not dead yet, after all I was in good health.
‘1963‘
‘No, you’re not on the list.’
‘Phew, I knew there must have been a mistake, you mean I’m not dead?’
‘No you are dead, just not allocated here.’
‘But I was Christened, named after the Good Lord himself and I’m English, it’s our established faith, you have to let me in.’
‘That’s as maybe, but it’s not a faith you adhere to.’
‘But I went to Sunday School, I was in Pathfinders and I’m always at the church, well I meet my friends in the Refectory Tearooms.’
‘But you don’t actually enter the church.’
‘I was at the free lunchtime organ concert only last week.’
‘The last time you attended a service of worship was at your cousin’s wedding thirty years ago.’
‘And that was the last time she set foot in a church!’
I laughed at my own joke, but the higher being did not have a sense of humour.
‘Even then your mind was not on God, during the prayers you were more interested in what everyone was wearing.’
I suddenly felt chilled to my core, this wasn’t a dream, this was real, how did this being know so much about me? Perhaps I should have been more humble.
‘Please forgive me, I did not mean to be rude, it’s just a shock, being dead. Could you please tell me where I should go.’
‘I cannot tell you, that is for you to decide, you have had sixty one years to think about your soul. Everyone here sees only what they understand.’
‘But I don’t und…’
I was alone, he had faded away and as I spun round in confusion I saw more signs. GAIA, thank goodness, that was where I belonged.
‘Welcome,’ said a gentle voice ‘have you got your visa?’
‘I am pretty sure I belong here, I am environmentally friendly, I watch David Attenborough, I’ve rewilded my garden and built an insect hotel and a hedgehog door. I do feel closer to God in the garden.’
‘What about the bees and flies that die every day shut in your hot conservatory?’
‘I try to catch them, I can’t stop them coming in… and I never kill spiders or even ants… I’m not sure what more I could have done.’
I felt a wave of warmth.
‘Don’t worry my dear, you have just done the best thing ever for wild life on earth.’
‘Oh, thank goodness, what did I do?’
‘You died.’
‘Little me gone can’t make much difference…’
‘No, but we have just cleared sector 5321 of all humans so those creatures you profess to cherish will thrive.’
When I was a child, spam was a food product that I did not like, a moulded block of pink meat extricated from a tin with a key and a good chance of lacerating fingers. Our relationship with digital SPAM is probably very similar.
A folder was, for many centuries, a sturdy cardboard stationery item for keeping collecting endless sheets of paper and it still is Chez Tidalscribe.
Put together meat and cardboard and you have a Spam Folder. In my first forays into life on line I wondered what it was and why people were told to check them. It was a long time before I even knew we had spam folders on WordPress. Reading spam comments usually explains why WordPress has blocked them from arriving at our precious blogs, though sometimes the intelligent and welcome comments of real bloggers wash up there.
Who are the strange beings that send these weird comments and why. AI creations that have escaped? But what if they are real human beings reaching out to engage with us? Should we respond? What would we say. Here are some I replied to…
‘Going shopping with my girlfriend, I feel very bored. I usually read this blog so I don’t get bored.’
A lot of people will sympathise with your shopping experience, I’m so glad my blog prevented boredom instead of causing it.
‘when me adn may friend go to bali me look so many things there are cute and i not forget to read your good blog everyday thankyo’
Thanks indeed, I expect all my followers to read my blogs every day, however fantastic their holiday.
‘I have a boyfriend who likes reading blogs, I see he often reads this blog, but he is no longer there, I was curious about what was on this blog, it turns out there is a lot of knowledge that I can get.’
Yes my blog is so good it can even make boyfriends disappear.
‘When I came home from watching the concert I couldn’t sleep, I read an article on this website, I fell asleep and woke up with meaningful inspiration thanks to reading this blog.’
Yes reading my website makes most readers fall asleep.
‘2 days ago I decided to go to Vietnam, I got drunk and met a girl from there, when we were both in the room, I suddenly got bored, I read this blog, I got a lot of inspiration‘
I hope you were inspired to avoid alcohol on holiday.
Yesterday I went to China, waiting for my plane to depart, I took the time to read this blog, this will be very useful for many people who read it.
My blog is especially useful for passengers who have long delays at airports.
My friends and I always visit museums with various classy monuments which are very beautiful. I see them all on your very good blog.
Thanks, I have endeavoured to fill my blogs with monuments from all round the world.
Every day I always have breakfast before going to school, but when I eat I feel like something is missing, that’s when I visit this blog to accompany me while eating so that I feel comfortable.
I am impressed that you start your school day in the perfect way.
What are your favourite comments in your spam folder?
For those of us in the northern hemisphere this will be our longest day, though as some bright spark is bound to point out, days are always 24 hours long. In my garden we should have over sixteen hours of daylight and rewilding will be at its peak. To celebrate the solstice our guest blogger Florascribe allowed me to share a few snippets from her new podcast.
‘When I look out of my window I feel I am living in the middle of a field, though my neighbours may not feel so joyful.
While they are busy jet washing their brick paving and vacuuming their artificial lawn, I put pots and tubs everywhere to hide the weeds, or rather the plants that identify themselves as wild flowers.
What is that irritating buzzing while I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast in the garden? Oh yes, it’s the bees I’ve been attracting to the garden. My wildflower meadow now has a solitary cornflower.
I managed to photograph this special rose which only lasts one day before its petals fall off.
Rewilding your gates is an excellent idea if they won’t close properly.
Dandelions thrive if you don’t mow your lawn, in fact judging by my neighbours’ front gardens, they thrive even if you do mow your lawn. Dandelions have lots of medicinal qualities and there is only one downside…
When the sun goes in their radiant beauty disappears…
All sorts of flowers might appear in your wild garden, but Do Not proudly share your pictures on your local Facebook pages, just in case you have grown a prohibited invader that is about to rampage through the neighbourhood.’
My thanks to Florascribe and our thoughts go out to her family who have just reported her missing, believed to be lost in long grass.
I was pottering in the front garden on Sunday, or rather digging, tugging, planting, weeding, sweating… but it was nice to be out in the sunshine chatting, with all the neighbours also out. I should say the neighbours were going out, coming back, going out again while I went nowhere. But there was still time to chat on matters of importance; which bin is going out this evening, shall I paint your side of the fence? There was a bit of drama when next door sent a text to ask me to go round and check on her daughter who wasn’t answering her phone.
The day was further enlivened when strangers started appearing and some of them were strange. A weird chap had leaflets in his hands.
‘A vote for us is a vote for change. Jerry is a local man born and bred. He will make sure enough social housing is built, while at the same time protecting all our green spaces.’
Among the bees and blooms I had forgotten we were having a general election, that we were all doomed whoever was in power.
A couple turned up.
‘We’re sure you are aware how much Terrence has done for this town in his sixteen years as your representative.’
‘But he hasn’t done anything to save the planet…’
‘Well nice to speak to you, can we count on your vote on the fourth of July?’
‘Good afternoon, are you fed up with the other parties not keeping their promises and lying?’
‘Have you got any positive policies on the environment…’
‘Yes, in this leaflet you can see us digging a pond at the primary school.’
Along the road there next appeared a strange sight, a flowing green and rainbow cloak, a tall person being led by a guide dog. I couldn’t tell whether he needed the dog because he was blind, or because he had a bucket on his head. It was a bit difficult to hear what he was saying, but the dog seemed to understand.
‘Are you from the Monster Raving Looney Party?’
‘No, that’s the other chap. I’m an independent, Count Bucket Head. Have you decided who to vote for?’
‘No, I just don’t know who to believe.’
‘Well you can count on me, I know what people want because I am a person. My manifesto is in the pamphlet, made entirely from recycled paper, recycled by me with no chemicals used.’
’Yes I can see you have steered clear of the whole glossy leaflet concept.’
I started reading with growing interest.
‘Voting rights for assistance dogs?’
‘Are they not more intelligent than the average voter?’
‘Yes…’
Our pot holed pavements to be made safe with cushionfall laid on all footpaths.
Homes left vacant for more than two weeks to be requisitioned by the local council.
All bonuses to be rescinded and put in a new contingency fund.
‘Whose bonuses?’
‘The bonuses of anyone who gets a bonus.’
I browsed further, there was a lot to read.
‘All sounds good to me, you can count on my vote.’
Isn’t it always the way, you don’t remember you were reincarnated until you die again. Each time I have been caught out. Assuring myself and others that there is NOTHING beyond, once you’re dead you’re dead. Telling everyone that ghosts do not exist, whatever Danny Robins seeks out in ‘Uncanny’. Exclaiming confidently that there is no such thing as reincarnation, thank goodness; what are the chances of landing a worse life than you had? If you look at the world you will guess that ninety nine per cent of humans are not having a good life.
Now it all came back to me, every life I’ve lived before. Once again I was in the debriefing room, waiting for the uncomfortable probing into how I had handled my latest life. All around me were strangers, busier than usual, all the people who had been killed alongside me. That was the only memory that was hazy.
No familiar faces this time. When I say faces I mean we were still wearing our earthly appearance, to be replaced soon with just our inner selves. Well, it had been a good life, shorter than I expected, but I had fitted a lot in. Most of the others were new souls, stands to reason when you think of the population explosion. I had to chuckle, that chap in total denial calling for the doctor, probably thinks he’s hallucinating in intensive care.
In terms of human history I’m quite new myself. My first life came to an abrupt end fighting for Henry V. But I haven’t always been English, turned up in all parts of the world. Pity I never remembered all the languages I have spoken.
‘Hey mate, the sooner you come to terms with what’s happened the easier it will be. You have been killed. Not actually dead, just waiting to be reincarnated.’
‘What rubbish, I’m just waiting for my wife to visit, they must have phoned her by now.’
‘Yes, they would have phoned to tell her about the plane crash, if she hadn’t already heard it on the news.’
It was all coming back to me now, no wonder it was so busy here…
‘Mathew Frobisher, Frobisher?’
That’s me, they always use your most recent name.
‘So did you enjoy your latest life?’
‘Yes thanks, wonderful. It didn’t sound promising, but my physical body inherited brains and good looks. Makes you wonder how much DNA has to do with it. Do souls have an equivalent?’
‘You are a long way from learning about that, a very long way from understanding the higher realms.’
‘But I’m doing well, I’ve lived lots of good lives.’
‘I’m afraid it appears you learned nothing from your previous good lives. In this latest one you have contributed nothing to society, treated your loved ones abominably…’
‘You should have let me be a woman again. Last time you promised I would be reunited with my beloved husband.’
‘You were, that was the wonderful wife you so casually dumped.’
‘I can explain… ‘
No I couldn’t really, but I hadn’t been that bad had I?
‘What about all the happy passengers I flew round the world, reuniting them with their families, making their holiday dreams come true. I was an excellent airline pilot.’
‘You were to start with, but your dissolute life style caught up with you, hiding your drug habit resulted in you killing 387 passengers on your last flight. You must start again in the lower realms, you are going to be born in the Gaza Strip. We’re ready for you now, no point in you hanging around here.’
You may think Southbourne-on-Sea a fairly benign place, no bears or lions and no murders most weeks, but danger still lurks everywhere.
You can easily fall in when you take your discarded garments to the recycling bin…
Or trip and fall into an open grave.
Mown down by a three year old or ninety three year old on their scooters or any age on E-Scooters ?
Attacked by a pack of Woolly XS dogs…
Then there is the unexpected threat from nature in spring… the other day I was walking down the road and by unfortunate coincidence passed by at the exact moment a crow was chasing other birds away from attacking a bird in the gutter; it’s baby probably, though there is no CCTV evidence. It presumed I was part of the attack and dive bombed my head twice, drawing blood, though not enough to cause a visible drama. There were no human witnesses, no photo opportunities for Facebook, one of the rare occasions when I wasn’t dodging other pedestrians with phones in their hands.
I did think of reporting this on local social media, but knowing the thousands of comments, arguments and blame that wild birds and grounded baby birds usually evoke, I did not. Looking up on the internet it seems attacks are not uncommon if humans are too close to nesting crows. Though of course it could be the start of birds taking over the world… Scarier is the fact that crows are very intelligent and remember individual humans, so perhaps I can never walk down that regular route again.
All crows in this blog are played by actors. The Corvid Community would like to point out that they never attack humans and all allegations are totally unfounded.
Sorry missed your message earlier, what a day, has Poppy recovered?
Book Worms
Yup, done the library survey, haven’t read the book yet, might be late Friday, blood test.
Anne last seen today 15.33
That’s a relief, no stitches then? What sort was the other dog?
Cousin Chat
Oh what a wonderful place, pity you only had three hours ashore. Not surprised you got lost with 3,500 on board. So did you find out how he died? Sounds like a scene from one of your novels.
Cousin Chat
Natural causes, never mind, probably be another SD before your seven weeks are up. Bit of a waste getting the helicopter out to the Antarctic.
Family Forum
If I suddenly drop dead I promised Linda the plant in the dining room. The individual lemon cheesecakes in the fridge were on special offer, in case you look in the fridge and think I’m greedy.
Family Forum
No, I’m feeling fine, just testing to see if I get any response. Going to live to a hundred to annoy you all. But just in case there’s a new felt pen under the fridge and brand new secateurs in the garden, really annoyed to lose those. List of lost items getting quite long, treasure hunt for you all when I’m gone.
Anne last seen today 16.43
It cost that much? Good thing you had insurance. Would never have imagined a Pomeranian could cause so much damage. Which reminds me, I was round next door and she had spotted a big mouse in the back garden, worried Tilly would catch it… at that very moment Tilly emerged from the flower bed triumphantly shaking her head with the dead mouse clamped in her delicate jaws! Now she’s upset her miniature dachshund is a murderer!
Polly last seen today 16.53
Don’t worry too much, perhaps it would be better if you didn’t look at your fitwatchthingy.
Polly last seen today 17.05
What should your resting heart rate be?
Lizzie last seen today 17.23
Oh no, did you call 111? Where’s Tom?
Lizzie last seen today 17.25
I forgot he was away, I’m sure you’ll manage fine. I had to cope with four of you when Dad was away.
Jack last seen today 17.27
Okay, Facetime on Sunday.
Polly last seen today 17.53
What a catastrophe, Pyrex does shatter in a thousand pieces. Have you got any spare dinners in the freezer?
Polly on line 17.59
Not surprised your heart rate has gone up. Bare feet? Oh dear, my mother used to tell this story about getting a sliver of glass in her foot, then years later her finger swelled up and the splinter popped out! Or was it the other way round, anyway, it didn’t do her any harm.
Jack last seen today 18.53
Don’t forget we’re six hours ahead now its BST.
Magic Pen 19.00
What was the homework?
Magic Pen 19.01
You don’t remember either Jill
Magic Pen 19.03
Won’t you, that’s a pity. Don’t worry, everybody has stents put in these days.
Sally last seen today 19.10
Well done, can’t wait to see the pictures, great way to celebrate your seventieth and you really made it to the top, with Ron’s ashes!
Family Forum 19.30
Big news, your uncle has booked his holiday.
Family Forum 19.46
No he’s staying in a hotel than goodness. Yes we are ALL going to meet up with him. Yes I do remember he never bought you as much as an ice cream, his mind was on higher things.
Family Forum 19.50
Must be thirty years, no I’m sure he hasn’t been thrown out of the monastery, perhaps it’s his health, don’t suppose health care is good on his remote Tibetan mountain.
Magic Pen 20.08
Thanks Dave ‘Imagine a What’sAp conversation’ … How on earth am I going to write that?
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 