SANDCASTLES?

SANDCASTLES

By Barbara Thomas 

 When I was around nine years old, my younger sister and I were lucky enough to go to the seaside quite often, mainly because my Dad owned a little black four seater Ford. How many readers can remember back in the days when Henry Ford’s proudly said these famous words, “you can choose any colour as long as it’s black”. I digress. 

As a family of four we would travel as far as Margate or Ramsgate in a day. My sister and I would go to bed early for an early start the next morning usually five am As we slept mum would compile everything needed for a good day out. Kettle, primus stove, cutlery, real plates, none of the paper kind, real cups and even saucers, no mugs for mum!! Then came the frying pan followed by the food, which would be taken out of the cool larder first thing in the morning. Margarine, and lard. Vegetable oil was never on the menu. Followed by eggs, bread and bacon and of course not forgetting the tea leaves and sugar. All ready for our adventure Dad would start packing everything in the back of Little Joey, as us girls had named him. Everything but the kitchen sink, oh hold on!! I forgot the picnic table, small fold up seats and of course the washing up bowl, drying cloths and not forgetting bicarbonate of soda, no such thing as washing up liquid. Dad would crank the starting handle, check the orange indicator lights like tongues, were working. We were off, so early it was still dark outside. Old Joey chugged along, no Motorways then. Around 10am dad drew up on a grass verge away from the road. Then the fun started we all had our jobs to do even my little sister. Last out the table would be erected. Table laid, plates crockery put into place, milk emptied in small jug sugar in a bowl salt and pepper, then my sister and I could relax and go and discover our surroundings. Dad then opened the bonnet, there would be a loud hiss, he would then check the water. Job done. Now for the important part of the ritual, lighting the primus stove, and kettle on for the first cup of tea of the day. Then frying pan followed, lard placed in first, then eggs and bacon. We would be called to come and sit down and hungrily eat our Sunday morning fry-up.

 Meal over, kettle put back on, bowl filled with washing up, then my most hated job, drying up. Everything carefully stacked away, off again to our destination, Margate seafront. Several hours later we arrived, Dad made sure we were settled on the sea-front then kissed my Mum goodbye, as he made his way to the greyhound stadium, promising he wouldn’t be longer than need be? Mum positioned herself on the sand half way down near the waters edge but not that far from the road. It didn’t matter how many bucket and spades we had our parents always bought us new ones. “It wasn’t until later years that I realized how lucky both my sister and I had been” So armed with our new buckets and spades we started to build our sandcastles, we would spend our time trying to outdo each other. Then we needed water for our moats, off we trotted across the sand. If you have never been to Margate beach you are missing a beautiful stretch of golden sands. Which is still looks the same now as it did when I was nine, (except now the sand is imported). Mum had sat down on the sand with her knitting, listening to an old portable wireless she had brought with her. She checked the time and called us back for tea. Out came the flask and orange juice, plus cakes she had cooked the day before. We shared an apple, no such thing as a whole apple or orange to ourselves, everything was quartered. When we had finished and asked to go and play, mum said dad would be back soon and she was just going to pop over the road to get a fresh jug of tea for dad, and we were not to wonder off, stay together and if we were really lucky we might just might pop into Dreamland before we made for home after picking up some fish and chips. We watched mum go then made our way to the water front, then we heard people pointing and shouting, something was in the water that was attracting a lot of attention. So both of us looked, we were terrified and dropped our buckets and ran up the beach to be met by mum, we were crying she calmed us down then asked me what had happened? I said there were Sharks in the sea. Mum kept a straight face and sat us down, drying our eyes, and explained that they weren’t Sharks but Porpoises. When Dad came back mum retold the story, they both laughed. He came with us to collect our toys then packed everything up and took it to the car then took us to Dreamland, our worries soon forgotten, on the way home we eat fish and chips out of newspaper. At home we fell into bed, knowing we had school in the morning. What a story to tell the teacher. The end B.Thomas (This actually happened, my parents were not rich, but hard working. Dad was a window cleaner, self employed and Mum worked on the tills in Victor Values (now Tesco’s).

 Copyright Barbara Thomas

A note to all parents

A note to all parents

By Barbara Thomas

  I would like to share this with all parents, especially mothers, whose offspring have stopped communicating often with no reason. Apparently it’s called “Ghosting”, ignoring phone calls, texts, and letters as if we do not exist.

 This is my story, for 53 years I have never missed sending a birthday card to my only daughter. But for several years I have never received any response from her. This year was different, it began at Easter time I had posted an Easter tide card and in the envelope I sent her a stamped addressed enveloped with the hope that she would contact me as she had just become a grandmother for the first time and I also became a great grandmother for the first time, something to celebrate or so I thought. I waited and time passed, nothing came.

 So now I have come to the conclusion at last, how long do I keep hurting myself. So this month being her 53rd birthday, and as l said I had never missed sending a card. This time was different, I decided not to send her a card, or wish her happy birthday on Facebook. It was time to stop holding her hand, theoretically, she would now be on her own. Although I will never stop loving her, I am not prepared to play these mind games. So for all you parents especially Mothers who are still suffering and playing out their children’s mind games, let go of their hands and walk away.

Then we can only pray that the shock of the parent letting go just may bring them to the conclusion that something very dear is missing from their lives. GOOD LUCK…..

Copyright Barbara Thomas

 

OUR LATE QUEEN

 OUR LATE QUEEN

By Barbara Thomas

 Our beloved Queen Elizabeth would have been 100 years old on the 21st April 2026. When the Lord made her, he made an Angel in disguise. As many people know she was not born to be a Queen, but my God she stood up to the challenge. We should always remember her Consort, Phillip, the Duke of Edinburgh. During her reign she stood steadfast and true, to the end of her day’s. So thank you Ma’am.

 We remember with a smile the day the Queen and Daniel Craig acted out a Bond scene, the Queen as “M” and Daniel as “007”. Everybody watched as they both walked along the corridors of the Palace, even ended up with being parachuted over London. Fiction: Another memory, and looking back, the last time we would be seeing her great humour. No one can forget the Queen’s playful scene with Paddington Bear where the Bear offered her majesty tea and a marmalade sandwich, the response was with a twinkle in her Majesty’s eye.

 “No thank you I had a sandwich in my bag”. What a moment never to be forgotten. We will miss her charming smile, and wonderful clothes but most of all, the woman behind the Crown.

Barbara Thomas

The Baby Boomers

 The Baby Boomers 

By Barbara Thomas 

 We have listened to the W Y. Z’d’s plus the Naughty Nineties generations so let’s share the life of the Baby Boomer generation.

 1938-1945 

 Well, that’s us. Most of us would still be a twinkle in our Dad’s eyes if it hadn’t been for Herr Adolf Hitler, (formally a house painter, soon to become one of the most hated and evil man of his time) unless of course you were a Frauline or a Heinz. 

 Well, let’s see: First came the phoney war, followed by what would later be referred to as: The Second World War. Our Fathers were drafted, seconded, and many enlisted. 

 Time was precious, very few weekend passes before embarkation. Girlfriend’s promising to be there (where ever that was) when their gallant men and women came marching home. 

 Rules were broken, the men in the forces explaining to their girl friends “Oh come on only once it won’t hurt, I’ll be careful, promise, it will be something to remember me by when I’m away fighting for King and Country”. 

 

 Oh! how many times those words were spoken? So off went our brave men leaving their wives, and girlfriends, crying at railway stations. 

 

 As the war gathered momentum, many civilians in the British Isles were either killed injured or made homeless through constant bombing, life was hard but harder still for the women who had succumbed to the passion of that moment. 

 

First came the sickness, then missed monthlies, then the reality that they were pregnant. Married women although not at all happy at their situation at least were in wedlock, the other poor wretches, in many cases, were disowned by family, thrown out and told not to return.  

 The maternity wards were full, especially during the months after the war began. Then the men would come on leave, and then off back to war with more pregnancies until the orphanages were busting at the seams. Although women shared the same goal, survival, some fell by the wayside, destitute.  

 Hitler did his worst on British cities, towns, and villages, but through all this the women grew stronger and more defiant. 

 Then single women were seconded to the land to carry out farm duties, work in factories, driving ambulances, buses even delivering planes. Princess Elizabeth (our future Queen) became an ambulace driver.

 They never complained they just got on with the job, more times than not with their children clinging on their mother’s skirts.  

 Mothers with several children were exempt, but they kept family and home together against amazing odds.  

 Today’s naughty nineties and X, Y, Z’s poke fun at the fashion that women wore then and the songs that were sung,  the elderly still calling the radio “the wireless”. (Where children would take the batteries on a pram down to the oil shop to be topped up) These people have no idea that most homes, in fact many homes had no electricity, hot water, no bathroom only the large tin bath hanging outside on the wall in the yard which everyone used and one bath a week down at the communal baths, where a pump outside would open up from a key outside, for the water to fill their baths.  

 This was the world we Baby Boomers grew up in, no fancy foods, the meal was put on the table and you ate what you were given. The music we listened to was our parents choice. We sat and listened to the Archers every night. My brothers used to listen to ‘Dick Barton Special Agent’, under the bedclothes, on a home made crystal set, the highlight of their day. By the time the men returned home after 6 long years the cast had been set, Mum’s word was law.  

 The War Babies, as I prefer to call them were brought up to respect others. Not all of them did I know, and those children become feral and unfortunately drifted into a life of crime. 

 Schools were full, with the children that had been born either at the start, middle and end of the War. Just a thought, many may not have existed had it not been for the war.

Barbara Thomas 3/03/2026

 

The Aldridge Family Tree

 The Aldridge Family Tree

Barbara Thomas 

Two people met and fell in love got married and sometime later had a baby girl. Her parents pride and joy. Then we were three. Growing up she gave us so much pleasure. We could hardly believe that between us we had made this beautiful creature.

Through out her childhood, adolescence, then adulthood, our love for her remained the same. 

 Then the time came when she had a serious boyfriend, an engagement followed later by the wedding, we looked on amazed at this woman who came from our love for each other. 

 Also recalling that the last time she wore a beautiful white dress and was at her 1st Communion, and here she was all grown up and getting married. 

 Several years later our daughter and son-in-law told us that we were going to be grandparents. We were ecstatic.

 Now we will be four. 

 Our 1st granddaughter was a delight. soon to be followed by another grandchild, once again a beautiful baby girl. Our family was expanding, 

 (not counting our son in law) We were now Five. 

 When our little girls were very young I thought my life had ended when my funny Peter Pan of a husband had a fatal heart attack at home and died in my arms. My Daughter and I were devastated. These little girls would never know how much their grandad had cared and loved them both.  

A few years later unfortunately our Daughter’s marriage broke down. (Funny word that “broke down”). It was a shock, but our daughter fell in love again and eventually married. 

 After several years my daughter and her second husband produced two more grandchildren. Our lovely grandsons, who once again sadly would never know their lovely grandad. 

 Then we were Seven. 

 The grandchildren were a delight to be with and through their kindergarten days schools, College and University, I revelled at their achievements.

Then one day I received a phone call from my eldest granddaughter, she was pregnant. I was going to be a Great grandmother. I received the news with joy and pain. I hid my thoughts from the family and had a few tears when I was on my own. 

I would talk to my deceased husband as if he was still with us. I told him the news that we would be having a great grandchild to add to our forever growing family.

 The baby arrived, a beautiful baby girl, I cried that only I would be seeing this child knowing that my late husband would have adored her.  

 Our little dynasty had become eight. 

 The fact that just two people who mattered so much to each other would eventually be connected to all these children with our blood circulating in their bodies. 

The family tree was growing. 

 

 Barbara Thomas 27/02/2026

 

IN SEARCH OF MYSELF

 IN SEARCH OF MYSELF

Barbara Thomas 

Daughter, sister, Mother, Grandmother and Great Grandmother. 

Oh those year’s, from child to Adult.

Counting the days, weeks months years.

Where did it all go? 

Pain, tears, joy, sadness.

The pain of childbirth the tears and the joy of birth.

Motherhood in all stages seeing the babies toddlers,teenagers, taking them to college, University then eventuality marriage. Job done.

I look back to all above

From wife mother, widow

Now Old age, illness’s 

Then Abandonment, not all at once but gradually

visits stop, phone calls and texts stop. 

Had I known the pain of being excluded in later life I would never had gone through the pain of motherhood.

I would have maybe followed my dreams 

If i could look into the future I would have completely denied and scoffed at being the complete blank rejection without ever knowing why? 

Unfortunately I am not on my own it appears our offspring’s are becoming like the Inuit or Indians of years ago.

When parents get to a certain age they are discarded, left to fend for themselves, until in most cases die.

The compassion I grew up with in my opinion is missing in this Woke world. 

I believe in Karma, what goes around comes around.

 

Barbara Thomas ~ 11.01.26

Spike Milligan Comedian legend:

  

Spike Milligan Comedian legend:

from Barbara Thomas 

Smiling is infectious you catch it like the flu

when someone smiled at me today I started smiling too

I walked around the corner and someone saw me grin.

When he smiled I realized, I’d Passed it on to him

 I thought about that smile awhile, I realized it’s worth.

 A single smile like mine, could travel round the earth

 So if you feel a smile begin, don’t leave it undetected,

 just start an epidemic, and get the world infected!

 

SPIKE MILLIGAN The man who wrote on his gravestone: 

“I TOLD YOU I WAS ILL”                                 

Moving Home (Social History)

 Moving Home 

By Barbara Thomas 

A very short version of the moves I have made to different homes. Also a look into the past Social history. 

Looking back through the years from 1941 until 2025 I realized I must have moved at least 30 times.

A gipsy I’m not…….. 

Starting from my birth, my mother who had recently been bombed out, was living at my Gran’s with my two older sisters, Dad was overseas doing his bit in the army.

So after leaving the maternity hospital I went to live at my granny Smiths. 

When I was about 18 months old the house next to Gran’s became vacant, so Mum, my two siblings and I moved into my second home. Although there was some near misses with bombs and doddle bugs we survived.

I lived there until the tender age of 17 when I got married.

(As I had an obussive Father very handy with his strap I couldn’t wait to leave home). 

There was none of this living together malarkey not in those days. 

My new husband and I moved a fair distance from my family home. It comprised of literally 2 rooms which were way up on the 4th floor.

Our landlord who also lived in the house in the basement he was a very creepy old gentleman. 

With no bathroom, although what I never had I never missed. Tin bath and local baths were the norm growing up at both previous homes. 

At first I thought it was wonderful away from my tyrant of a father, I think he must have suffered what we now call PDST which took him a long time to settle into civilian life and ordered us children around like we were part of his battalion. 

After two years living in the 2 rooms, came the babies, one after the other Danny and Gary, I would heave their pram up four flights of stairs as we weren’t allowed to leave the pram in the passage.

My second son had been born in the terrible winter of 1961/62

Oil heaters were the only means of warmth; we had icicles that froze on the insides of the windows. 

When my boys were respectively 18 and 6 months old I heard from a relative that my parents had decided to move after my Gran died. They took out a mortgage, instead of renting a house. 

I seized the moment and took two very long bus rides through London where my parent’s landlady lived.

She always had a soft spot for me, as my Gran offered her the use of the upstairs parlour when she came every weekend to collect the rents and I would make her a cup of tea with a slice of my Gran’s cake. 

I rang the bell and Mrs. Philips opened the door and was very surprised to see me standing there. She invited me in and after a while I explained the reason that bought me there and informed her that Mum and Dad when everything money wise had been dealt with would be moving out of the family home as they were in the process of getting a mortgage.

This came as a complete surprise to her, the reason for this I explained was because Dad was having problems getting the mortgage due to being self-employed so until Dad could get a bridging loan my parents wanted to keep it quiet.

After being offered a cup of tea I then explained to the Landlady about my circumstances how with two young babies having to struggle daily up and down the stairs carrying them and then the pram up to the fourth floor, plus as I only had 2 rooms with oven on the landing it wasn’t an ideal place to bring up children. 

She listened intently then asked the 64 dollar question was I able to take on the rent of £2.00 a week plus rates, with my fingers crossed behind my back I replied, “Yes of course that was perfectly alright as my husband had a decent job” (Wages at that time were £6 a week If you were lucky to be in employment).

So at the age of 21 my husband and I moved back into my childhood home. My father was furious as he had promised to speak to the Landlady when the time was right to ask on behalf of my younger sister and her future husband (who were getting married within weeks) That could they take over the rent book? 

My husband and I moved in with our babies with a very small amount of furniture.

Due to only having 2 rooms, we slept on a put-u-up in the front room while the children slept in the back room.

My father thought he would have the last word and had given the removal men instructions that not one item of curtain, carpet light bulbs were to be left in the house. 

Not to be outdone I went to my aunt and uncle who lived a bus ride away explained the situation and they willingly gave us a proper bed, rugs, curtains and anything else useful with my uncle making sure that electrics etc were safe for all of us. 

Sadly my gran had died several years before but I soon got to know my new neighbours.

The bedroom floors had no covering so I placed blankets on the floor and nailed them down until one day I could afford better. 

The pleasure I had had putting that rent book down in front of my father saying that if my sister and husband wanted they could move in on the top floor. Even then he tried to lay down the law saying my sister was not used to living upstairs so therefore he suggested strongly that my husband and I move upstairs and my sister and new husband take over the ground and first floor, unbelievably!!!

So I told him that I was quite happy for my sister and her husband to move in upstairs.

I won the day and my sister and new husband moved in as arranged after their honeymoon. Rent sorted WHEW!!

My 2 children became three by then loved the freedom of the garden and I lived there 8 years before I was on the move again. (My sister had moved out to Harlow New Town within a year so I had to find another way to help pay the rent, through word of mouth, I took on a lodger. 

All was well in the beginning until the lodger bought a friend of his from the pub. I came back from work, and found downstairs had been trashed and the boxes containing Rent, Rates, Electricity which I kept in my wardrobe had been broken into. (That’s how we paid our bills weekly banks were for the rich people, that was what was generally thought) 

The lodger was the only person that I could think of as nothing like that had happened before while he had been living there it had to be his friend so I went upstairs and told my lodger that I suspected his friend, and that I blamed him for bringing that person back to my home. Then I asked him to pack his belongings and go. Before I called the police. The theft was indirectly his fault from allowing that low life in. He even stole the children’s Christmas presents from under the tree.

He said he would reimburse me for whatever had been taken but I told him no! He had to go.

So there I was a slight slip of a girl at the tender age of 22 evicting a giant of a man (6ft 3” actually) out of my home saying i never wanted to see or hear from him again. 

I then decided I would have to take a cleaning job, so one came up at the local school which fitted in nicely with my children’s nursery/school times. Up at 4am, I walked to work, back at 7am in time to get the children ready for school and then back again for work from 6 till 8 pm.

I survived and furnished my home and had Lino laid (carpets were beyond my pocket). 

Several years later unfortunately my marriage broke down, I had lost all respect for him. 

My ex-husband if you notice is not mentioned much and the reason being he was incapable of keeping a job longer than a few months due to lateness and laziness, once the children arrived.

I came to the conclusion I would be better off without him.

After my divorce, which thank goodness the Law Society had just passed a law that made it easier for the ordinary person to get adivorce.

One day a friend and I were having a long chat about leaving London and that’s when I came to rent a flat in Hornchurch Essex.

You may wonder why Hornchurch. Both my friend and I were beginning to get disillusioned with the way London had become with gangs of boys breaking up children’s playground equipment in our nearby park, threatening behaviour all in all making it unsafe to bring up our children the way we were bought up. 

One afternoon when our boys were out playing in my back garden, we made a pact that if we moved it would be together. My friend went an bought the Evening Standard well know for advertising flats to let, and we scoured the pages hoping to find rental accommodation outside London but as neither of us could agree where, we used a pin and stuck it into the paper and said where it landed was where we would go together.

The pin came down on Hornchurch which neither of us had any idea where it was, so we got the children ready stuck babies in prams and went to W.H.Smith’s where we found a map (neither of us could afford to buy the book) so I kept the children quiet while my friend looked through the pages and came to the page showing where Hornchurch was located and found it was near Romford.

Although neither of us could drive we felt “yes”, that’s the place we want to bring up our boys. Although it took several months to work out where we could get the key money, it was the costly sum of £100 a small fortune then. I bit the bullet and went hand in glove to my mother and asked her to loan me the money, promising to pay it back within 6 months. 

I arrived in Hornchurch with my children, who were over the moon with all the open green spaces. Although my eldest boys not realising the difference between private and public stretch of green had climbed over a wall and went scrumping thinking that was part of the park.

It was a terrible struggle at first but with the help of my Mum who had ignored my Dads instructions that she was not to do anything to help, as in his words, “I made my bed now I must lie on it,” strange words!! 

Four years on, I was moving again.

Another chapter in my life opened up when I met an old school friend, we dated for some time and eventually we married, and moved back to Highgate London. He was a builder and all his business connections were there. 

This is just a very short interpretation of moving home.

 

Copyright Barbara Thomas

 

I said to the Man...

 I said to the Man 1... 

Barbara Thomas 

• I SAID TO THE MAN WHO STOOD AT THE GATE
•  
• GIVE ME A LIGHT THAT I MIGHT TREAD SAFELY INTO THE UNKNOWN
•  
• AND HE REPLIED “GO OUT INTO THE DARKNESS  AND PUT YOUR HAND INTO THE HAND OF GOD
•  
• THAT SHALL BE BETTER THAN LIGHT AND SAFER THAN A KNOWN WAY”
•  
• SO I WENT FORWARD HOLDING THE HAND OF GOD, TROD GLADLY INTO THE NIGHT.
•  
• AND HE LED ME TOWARDS THE HILLS AND THE BREAKING OF DAY IN THE LOVE OF THE EAST.

 

This poem was written by

Minnie Louise Haskins ~  1875-1957

 

What is very interesting is the poem

was spoken by King George VI in his Christmas 1939 broadcast to the Empire, these words struck a cord with a country facing the uncertainty of War.

 

The words were also inscribed at the entrance of the George VI Memorial Chapel, in St George’s Chapel in Windsor plus in the window at the Queen’s Chapel at the Savoy, Tunbridge Wells in 1957.

 

This poem was used at the funeral of Elizabeth, the Queen Mother in 2002

 

And what did the poem mean.

Believe in God

Tread softly into the unknown

I can relate to this as I pack-up all my belongings to a place I don’t know and never ever been there leaving the safe peaceful countryside, straight into a busy London Borough and just trusting  my faith that he will help me into the unknown.

 

Barbara Thomas  22.12.2025

 

 FREE CHOICE

By Barbara Thomas 

What is free choice I ask myself in this day and age, where is 'Free Choice' allowed?

Being that due to current Labour Government and many Woke Persons who tell us: What, Where, When, and How, we can manage our lives.

Give me some moments to make sense of the wording;

“FREE CHOICE”

 

OK! I have got it as I have just Googled the meaning of Freedom of Speech:

The fundamental right to express one’s opinions and ideas without fear of censorship or punishment from Public Authority and includes the freedom to receive and impart information and ideas.

 

The 1^st Amendment to the U.S. Constitution protects the freedom of speech, religion, and freedom of the press.

It also protects the freedom for peaceful assembly or gathering together or free association with a group for social, economic, political or religious purpose, as well as the right to protest against the Government.

In the United Kingdom free speech is a fundamental, legally protected rights under the Human Rights Act 1998 enshrined in Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights, allowing the expression of ideas, opinions and information without Government interference.

Freedom of Speech Limitations, such as hate speech, incitement to

Violence, defamation and harassment, exist to prevent harm to others.

To protect Public Order, safeguard reputations, rights and National Security.

Whew!!!

Now we know…….

BUT and it is a big But!

Then why are there so many things going wrong I ask myself?

For months now there have been marches for whatever reason in London, and many other large Cities.

When it was believed that the British Flag could not be raised people from all walks of lives and diversity defied and flew the flag.

Flags on lamp posts, cars, windows and even across bridges and many more way-out places, including zebra crossings painted in red against the background of white.

When I first saw them all I was surprisingly taken back and a little overwhelmed.

But after a time, I personally felt the point had been made and it was time to take the flags down and if people felt so angry vote with their feet, and make their mark in the polling booths.

It is saddening now when I see our glorious flag humiliated.

I would ask people to take down the flags that are now sodden, and torn by wind and rain.

In some parts of the country their Council tax has risen, stating that this is because of damage to Council and Government property.

But, and this is a big BUT: Great Britain is one of the most tolerant

countries in the world for FREE CHOICE and long may it continue.

 

Copyright Barbara Thomas

 

Keir Starmers student days

By Barbara Thomas 

Did you know that our Prime Minister at the age of 23 ended up in Communist spy files after joining a Czechoslovakian work camp during the height of the Cold War (the newspaper “The Mail” revealed) that he was one of 17, mostly students from around the globe in a 1986 scheme behind the Iron Curtain to restore a memorial to victims of a Nazi Atrocity. Whilst the volunteers had noble intentions unbeknown to them the event was being monitored by those with a far more sinister motive. Sir Keir Starmer’s full name date and place of birth plus his passport number photo and family address are listed among other International work camp participants in a dossier discovered by the Mail in the “Foreign Intelligence main Directorates Operation Files” section of the Czechoslovakian Secret Police Archives the young Starma’s visa application, including a passport photo and hand-written personal details, are kept in a separate section of the Czech Cold War State security service archives.

Youthful idealism could be exploited by the Communists, it was an error, although a forgivable one given his age.

According to Professor Anthony Glees an Intelligence and Security expert from the University of Buckingham, Starmer wanted to commemorate victims of the sadistic Nazi atrocity in Lidice.

 

My question here is why wasn’t this important information added to Sir Keir Starmer’s Wikepidea,

 

He owns up to selling ice cream illegally, as a teenager abroad.

 

What other secrets has he withheld?

 

Copyright Barbara Thomas

 

 

Revenge is best served cold

By Barbara Thomas 

Many years ago, it came to my attention that a certain person was

spreading untruths about me.

For several weeks I searched the High street looking at faces hoping to see her and confront her but I gave up the search after a few weeks.

 

Several months later my friends and I were meeting up to go on a day trip by coach.

As I was chatting a lady came up to me and said “do I know you your face is familiar.”

My reply was as follows.

“Well yes, you should know me as for months you have been spreading untruths about me.”

She took a step back looking shocked, then all of a sudden recognition as to where she had seen me.

My words to her was,” You know nothing about me so in future don’t you dare discuss me or mine otherwise I will definitely be looking for you.”

She looked like she wanted to melt into the ground, her friends were staring at her in disbelief.

With this I walked away.

This women’s coach arrived and she made sure she was the first on the coach and couldn’t get in quick enough, job done!

As luck had it the woman was going

on a different coach trip.

 

I happened to look up to see my friend running across the car park, looking very flustered.

Apparently she had just realised

the person I had been looking for months ago was also going on a coach trip at the same time and would be meeting up with her friends.

I laughed and told my friend everything was ok I had dealt with the situation.

Revenge is better served cold.

 

Copyright Barbara Thomas

 

Meanings of the flag

 Meanings of the flag

 

By Barbara Thomas 

 

It could mean to flag a person down or to wave your flag in an act of patriotism.

 

Unfortunately through the centuries the flag has also been used to terrify and control people.  A good example was the Nazis Swastika flag.

 

Just lately, the domestic view has been to fly the flag to show others this is our country and we want to claim our borders back.

 

Flags are flown down Pall Mall to celebrate, for instance:

The coronation of Queen Elizabeth II.

To celebrate the end of WWII.

And, to welcome foreign dignitaries when they visit our shores.

Politicians stand in front of the Union flag, cementing the fact that they are talking to the British people. 

Lately, according to the Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer, any person(s) who rally to the English, Welsh, Scottish, or N Ireland Flag are Right wing. He was referring to ordinary citizens, of multicultural differences, when their families congregate in public places to let the Government know we are proud of our country and do not agree with his policies regarding illegal immigrants. 

The flag would be used in a battle to rally the troops. 

In some countries if the flag is defaced in anyway it could mean prison or death for the perpetrator. 

In Britain, a very diverse country, we should all rally round our Flag and once again cement the meaning of unity.

 

Barbara Thomas

 Fred, our resident ghost. 

By Barbara Thomas

Let me tell you about our ghost, Fred.

We moved into the Lodge on December 24

The day we moved in it poured, with rain lashing down against

The windows. Our furniture was soaked, we were soaked through. Good start for a move, this carried on all over the weekend.

We went to put the electrics and central heating on, nothing worked. 

So we had no option to go into a nearby hotel.

I phoned the company that had installed our boiler but they couldn’t come out until Monday

Strike 1 to Fred!

 

Strike 2. After the plumber had sorted out the heating and told

us how to turn the electricity on.

We woke up 3 days later to find we had no water.

 

I spoke to our next door neighbour who told us about the man

who not only lived here but had built the Lodge.

Apparently when his wife went into hospital and later sadly

died, Fred became a recluse not allowing anybody to help

him.  The garden is a wrap around garden and eventually

Became a wilderness.

He refused the council to add cladding and in general

never went far and stayed in doors most of the time.

It was very much his Lodge.

 

Then I realised that “Fred” was not going to give up his home

Lightly, even in death.

 

Once I realised what I was up against, when ever things

went wrong without any reason, I knew it was Fred.

The shower flooded. The taps in kitchen and bathroom

Leaked. That we sorted.  Strike 3

 

We got the plumber to replace taps etc.  Sorted!

Next we noticed water in the passage it turned out the mastic, for

What ever reason, had perished.

Once more in came the plumber. Sorted!

During the winter we were told that BT would supply

Internet and landline. We then got a text that they were unable

to carry out the job until the middle of January

That meant no TV or Landline. UGH!

So, again we moved to a Hotel.

 

The strangest thing was I had used the 2nd bedroom

as my office and dressing room.

Both my computer and my printer broke down?

My husband purchased a new computer and printer

that worked in the living room but not in 2nd bedroom!?

My great grandson will not go in that room, he says there

Is a man in there. My granddaughters’ dog won’t go in there either

he will race around but stops dead at the door.

 

I believe “Fred’s” being is still in our home but, things are getting better. I think he has finally realised what ever he throws at us we are prepared…

 

Copyright Barbara Thomas

 

Pandora's Box

 CYBER ATTACKS:

By Barbara Thomas

I think this could come under: Pandora’s Box.

The God Prometheus stole fire from heaven to give to the human race, which originally consisted of men,

To punish him the other Gods created the 1^st woman:

The beautiful PANDORA.

As a gift Zeus gave her a box, which she was told never to open.

However, as soon as he was out of sight, she took the lid off and out swarmed all the troubles of the world, never to be recaptured.

Only “Hope” was left in the box, stuck under the lid.

So: anything that looks ordinary but may produce UNPREDICTABLE HARMFUL” results can thus be called a "PANDORA’S BOX"!

Whilst I was scrolling through the news on Sunday 18^th on my iPad I came across this snippet which might interest readers.

Joe Tidy interacted with hackers who claimed to have targeted Marks and Spencer’s and the Cooperatives (also known as the Co-op).

Joe Tidy has been reporting Cyber Security for more than a decade and knew some who liked to boast about their hacks,

Although he noted that 99% of conversations stay firmly locked in his chat logs, but a recent ping was impossible to ignore.

This is how the conversation went   the hacker:

Is this Joe Tidy from the BBC reporting about the latest news concerning the Co-op, he the tracker had a message in the Telegram newspaper.

“We have some news for you,” the hacker teased.

They gave no name or profile picture, but it gave me an inside track on what they, the hackers, claimed to have done to M&S and the Co-op cyber attacks that caused mass disruption.

They message Joe back and forth for the next 5 hours.

It became clear to him that these apparent hackers were fluent

English speakers although they kept claiming just to be the messengers it was obvious they were closely linked to – if not intimately involved in both the M&S/Co-op’s hacks.

They even shared evidence proving that they had stolen a huge amount of customer's and employee's information.

It seems that the hackers were clearly frustrated that the Co-op wasn’t giving in to the hackers demands, but wouldn’t say how much money in BITCOM that they were demanding from the retailer in exchange for the promise that the hackers would not sell or give away the DATA stolen from the Co-op.

The press were contacted for comment and within minutes the firm had initially downplayed the Hack.

Admitted to employees, and customers and the stock market about the significant DATA breach.

Joe said much later, the hacker sent him a long and angry-offensive letter regarding Co-ops response to their hack and subsequent extortion, revealed that the retailer narrowly dodged a more severe hack by intervening in the chaotic minutes after its computer systems were infiltrated.

The letter and conversation with the hackers confirmed what experts in the Cyber Security world had been saying ever since the wave of attacks on M&S and Co-op had begun that the hackers were from a Cyber crime service called DRAGON FORCE

Who are these DRAGON FORCE people you may ask.

Based on the conversations with the original hackers and wider knowledge, there are some clues. DRAGON FORCE offer cyber criminal affiliates, various services on their DARKNET site, in exchange for a 20% cut of any ransom collected

Anyone can sign and use their malicious software to scramble a victim’s data or is their DARKNET website for their public extortion.

This has become the norm in organised cyber crime, it's known as RANSOMEWARE-AS-A-SERVICE.

The most infamous of recent times is a service cad LOCKBIT,

But this is all but defunct now partly because it was cracked by the police last year.

DRAGONFORCE latest...

Copyright Barbara Thomas