Happy 90th, John. And many more.

My father-in-law, John, celebrated his 90th birthday today.  He is quite spry and very lively.  There was a nice party for him this afternoon in the public lounge in the apartment complex where he and my mother-in-law, Lorna, lives.   John is quite a pistol and my husband, Q, inherited a lot of his charm and sense of fun, and sartorial sense.

Q's parents will never be that elderly couple who sit around in sweats - they are always so nicely turned out.  I don't think I've ever seen John without a tie on, for instance.  This afternoon just as we were going down the hallway from their apartment to the reception room, John gave his wife and me a little bit of a startle by taking a few running steps pushing her wheel chair and then letting go on purpose to give his wife a bit of a thrill.  "There you are my dear, now you're free wheeling!"  WHEEEEE!!!!

They are a delightful couple and had about 30 folks besides us at his party.  They had a nice spread of sandwiches and other goodies for their guests along with some cakes. John and Lorna also recently had their 60th wedding anniversary towards the end of December.  Their friends had taken up a generous collection for them to go out and have a really good time.  When asked by a woman if they have any plans for a spree John joked that it would probably run to "fish and chips" and the lady said "well, feel free to have them in Paris!"  I think they would be tempted, as they both were quite adventurous travelers.

When my husband was a very little boy, there was a big department store in Kent who put out a  magazine which featured the cartoon antics of two bears, Claude and Cecil.  Q and his dad often called each other by these pet names.   Whenever Q called his parents he always started off with "Hello, Claude" when his dad answered the phone, and of course, John answered "Hello, Cecil."    I quite miss hearing this exchange between my husband and his dad.  Q had a pair of cuff links which were golden bears wearing top hats, so I presented these to John as a gift today.

John shares a birthday with Lincoln, and it occurs to me that when John was born there were still people alive who would have seen Lincoln in the flesh when they were children!  John served with the Royal Marines during WWII and then had a long career in the Civil Service as an accountant.  He was quite a sport in his day, playing field hockey for the Marines when he was still in the service, and he is really enjoying the English wins in the rugby "6 Nations" tournament which is now on going.  I hope for his sake that England wins.  Happy Birthday, John!

Happy Anniversary - or should have been

Today should have been Quentin's and my  2nd Anniversary  - but it was not to be.  I have physically been feeling a lot better.  [Still fighting periods of depression, but it's getting better.]  I wanted to get out today and do something rather than be stuck at home. So I went to Mass this morning, then I hopped the train over to Windsor, and had a nice day out.  The weather was on the crappy side, but just good enough with occasional bursts of sunshine.  Which on a winter weekday makes it a perfect day to go.  

For some reason there are TWO train stations in Windsor, only a few hundred yards apart.  My train from Feltham to Windsor only takes 23 minutes and terminates at Eton & Riverside.  Walk about 150 yards and you could hit the side of the base of the castle with a baseball.  So if your knees are good you can be at the admission entrance within a 5-10 minute walk.

When Q was young he had a Highland Westie.  My favorite dog was a Springer Spaniel.  One of the few pleasures we had together was stopping in Richmond Deer Park on the way either to and from the hospital when he was doing his chemo treatments.  People walk their doggies there and we usually saw either one or the either breed, but quite frequently both.  I once told Quentin jokingly that whereas St. Therese mentioned that when she got to heaven she would send roses as her sign, that I would instead send spaniels.  I've noticed since his death often when I am in a place he enjoyed I DO end up seeing a highland Westie -- so I must say it has me going a bit.  Today was no different.  Just as I was reaching the entrance to the castle, two fellows with dogs met up -- and one of them was -- a WESTIE.  So I wonder if Q has a hand in this!  I kind of hope so.

There were FEW people touring in the afternoon today.  I got some photos where there was NO ONE in some of the long shots that normally would have been crowded with people.  For the 1st time I waltzed right in to Queen Mary's dollhouse - and that can easily be a two hour wait or more in the summer on the weekend.  I got to really look at every little bit of it.  And there were some of the "semi-state room" rooms open that are normally never open except in the winter -- essentially some normally more private rooms in the part of the castle that had been burned in the fire.  In particular a red drawing room done to  George IV's taste that overlooks the back gardens, and a "corner dining room" that looks out either towards Eton or the back gardens.  Victoria loved eating there, and apparently the present queen likes to take her guests there for dinner and breakfasts if she has a weekend house party.  The only drawback is you are not allowed to take photos on the inside of the buildings.  I expect besides a potential security issue it might cut into their guidebook sales.

Here are some more photos of the outside:  1st the Round tower -- the oldest part of the castle, though the top 30 feet was added in the 1800s to make the place look, well, "more castle like" as if it wasn't castlelike enough already!

 Next up is a bit more of the garden which surrounds the Round tower -- it used to be filled with a moat - but now it's a nice private garden.

This is a picture of "the bit" of the castle in the  Upper Ward across from the state rooms.  This is what the queen considers her "real home" as opposed to Buckingham Palace which to her is like working "over the shop."  Every day at 11 they have a changing of the guard here in the quadrangle.

 I stayed for evensong in St. George's, which is in the Castle Grounds.  Very splendid church which I've always loved.  I sat in the stall occupied by Haille Selassie when he was a member of the Order of the Garter.  18 boys and 10 men sang.  The Anglicans, I must say, really know how to do evensong. The boys attend the co-educational St. George's  school which is located at the foot of the Castle hill.   Louise, the queen's youngest grand-daughter currently attends, as had Beatrice and Eugenie back in their day.  I especially missed Q at Mass and at Evensong.   He really loved Windsor.  We did get to drive through it a few times when he was still living, but he wasn't well enough for the long walks by the time we knew he was sick with cancer.  But I highly recommend visiting on a winter's day during the week.  You can really look at everything at length without being crowded or have any wait times.  And DO NOT MISS evensong.  There were 20 of us from the public there this evening, and I expect in the summer you probably wouldn't get to sit in the choir stalls.

This picture was taken from the north terrace of Windsor castle.  At the bottom of the picture is St. George's school - the yellow buildings.  The long red building in the train station (Eton Riverside) and near the top you can make out the Eton College church if you click on the picture you should be able to make it out.

You can't really do Windsor without taking a picture of some Guardsmen, so I did.  You don't see too many guns in England, but this is one of the few places you will.

And this following picture was taken just before I went in to evensong.  Really incredible virtually NO ONE is in this shot.

Last week I'd come over to Windsor to catch a matinee at the Theatre Royal of Sheridan's THE RIVALS where Mrs. Malaprop and Anthony Adverse made their appearances.  Nice to finally actually SEE that play rather than just read about it.  Got a cheap seat for only £11 in the 3rd row.

The day would have even better if my dapper Qbunny could have attended in person if not just in spirit.  But I have to content myself with the thought that he is in a far better place.  Missing him terribly.

The Last Day of the Year

... to most of you, unless you are in the Home Office, or one of their minions, a magistrate, or a pissy bank manager or two, Comrade Zero's bot, or anyone involved in governing the borough of Hounslow (even if their mothers are Welsh.)  [My musical theatre friends should get the last reference.]  I'm trying to remember  a year of my life worse than this one.  I can think of one or two that equaled it - but not many.  2011 at least had the bittersweet joy of being married to Q.  The long-awaited visa eventually came through - and for spite they had sat on it another month after they put the stamp in the visa.  Had they sent it on time it would have made my life a lot easier  - so most of the year was spent fighting the government and still to date not having satisfaction of what is still owed me by the government.  So I've had to work with the MP and ending up in the process writing to the Queen - and got letter back from same, or at least her minion.  Those bastards at the UKBA also tried to say that they only processed visas "out of order for exceptional circumstances."    And of course, it's not just Theresa May's Home office that is so messed up -- it's pretty much the entire UK Border Agency.

I will not write here the detail I wrote to the Queen,  but all I can say is I wish it were the days when heads could roll.  I also need to also find justice for Q. regards the outstanding medical issues for possible malpractice.   I haven't been able to file a needed lawsuit for lack of money - mostly due to government inaction on the visa and all the tumble down effect that had on my life.    And there are still other Q issues to solve which I won't go into here.

Physically I've been fighting an off and on  iron deficiency which really took a major toll too and was pretty debilitating. Thanks to Mac M. and Juliet W. for pinpointing what was physically wrong.  Have yet to use the NHS and really don't intend to unless hit by a bus and it's involuntary.   Have had "issues" with various institutions including courts.   Did you know so-called magistrates can be so pissy as to not give their name or bank managers so ****ing lazy and incompetent to not cash a crummy check for £120 pounds when you bring ID in person, even though it is drawn on that bank?  I'm contemplating picketing along with a formal complaint to whatever board handles that - even if they don't find in my favor, it will cost them £500 pounds in having an investigation on them - so a certain arrogant SOB bank "manager" might get a boot up his buns.  "Rags" was such a little weasel trying to take his name off his tie when I demanded to see it.  And of course, it's not just Theresa May's Home office that is so messed up -- pretty much the entire UKBA.

I can count a handful of days that were good.  I managed to go to the theatre 4 times this year - saw Sweeny Todd, which I'd never seen before (was always waiting for a good production.)  Also saw One Man, Two Governors and the Reduced Shakespeare Company's Olympic's special, and The King's Speech.  And Juliet W. also took me to the proms one night, so I finally got to experience that.  It was my first time in the Albert Hall.  All I kept thinking of was the Hitchcock movie...a lot of the nights people go really casually dressed,   You can sit up in the Gods for only £5 a lot of the nights.  Not much seating area, but people bring blankets and you can  bring a stash of food in.   So it's all good.  All that marble is especially welcome on a warm night.

 I got to go to Henley 3 times this year - twice for the Regatta and once for the informal Town and Country a month later - where I presented an award for the ladies single intermediate skulls winner.  It was an event that Q sponsored annually.  I hope I did my Qbunny proud.

Because I presented a prize, I also got a free boat ride to trail the race in a nifty long boat that looks like the one in the foreground of this picture.  There are splendid houses like this all up and down this stretch of the river.  While here I met a friend of a friend who lives in one of them.  Must be nice!!  By chance when I was about 14 I read a National Geographic coffee table book called "This England" that was published in the early 60s.  I said to myself then:  "Someday...."  I didn't know that "someday" I'd get to step into the picture literally.



This is me with Diana D - she and her husband David were good Henley friends of Q and have been really kind to me.  This was taken late June on the Wednesday of Henley week, so still uncrowded - I didn't want to go up on the weekend.  Too crazy!  We were properly dressed (anyone can go, but you can't get into the Steward's Enclosure in just anything.  It does make the event fun.  The MEN get to be the peacocks at this event.  The women get to be peacocks at Ascot.  My Qbunny, had that English sense of dressing right for the occasion, and I knew he would have thought the ladies in the next picture's foreground, nicely dressed as they are, OVERDRESSED - which to him was almost as big a sartorial sin as being under dressed.

He would have said:  "that's ASCOT dress, not Henley."  Straw hats are the thing, and not too fussy.  Notice the complete ice-cream suit of the man just over the left of Diana's shoulder in the 1st pic.  Also for ladies LOW shoes, with small stacked heel at most, skirt/dress, knee length at least.  You *will* be called on it for short skirt and they'd chuck you out of the enclosure.  It's dressy SPORTY - but not "dressy/Ascot."  It's worth clicking on the picture to see the detail of the men's jackets.

I think the most splendid jacket I saw was this one.  Can you imagine any male in the US wearing this as a matter of course for the right event?  I like to think of Henley as "the best of England."  And the ritual is there not for people to play act in.  Most of them genuinely do like the boat races.  Although they *are* seen, they do not, for the most part, go to *be* seen.  If that makes sense.  By chance, when I was in my last year at UCSD I did do a bit of rowing myself - and have to say it was very fun!

 I didn't realize the true impact of "the River[Thames]" until I'd lived here.  And yet in English history, legend, story, and life it's all there.  It's not just Henley itself - but it's all that Wind in the Willows, "THE" 'boat race' between Oxford and Cambridge, punting on the Thames [thank you Dorothy Sayers for the unforgettable punting scene in Gaudy Night with Peter and Harriet], river pageants, Isaac Walton mystique.  IF you've seen the movie "Hope and Glory" there's an idyllic bit at the end of the family going to live with granddad along the river.  It represents "peace and tranquility and all being right."  It plays a bigger life in the English mind than you'd think.  Or certainly amongst "Q's" kind of people.  His parents told me one of the proudest days of Q's life was when he qualified to be a judge at boat races.  I'm VERY glad he did NOT see the debacle THE 2012 boat race was, whereby one spoilsport thoroughly ruined the race and it effected the outcome of the race too.  Had Q seen that I think he would have jumped through the TV set, and had his hands around the perp's throat before the coppers did.  As it was, the perp almost had his head decapitated by an oar.  Q had asked me early in our relationship which I preferred?  Oxford or Cambridge?  And I said "Oxford of course."  He was glad he finally had an ally. Since he was about 4 he always rooted for Oxford and mom and dad always rooted for Cambridge.  Amongst certain people the rivalry is like the Army/Navy game in the US.

Did go out to Windsor once, and hope to go soon again - the ticket's good until mid-April, and I think I can handle the walking again.  Parking can be hard to find in Windsor - but I can catch a bus outside my front door up to Feltham train station (about a mile from here - or I can hoof it, if I'm up to it) - then the train to Windsor is only about 20 minutes and it ends up right at the foot of the hill up to Windsor, and not far from Eton college.  It's only about 12 miles away.   Before I lived here I'd always visited Windsor -- I especially like the gardens and St. George's which is pretty splendid.  Quite a number of English monarchs, including the Queen's dad are buried here.

Fr. John Boyle was in London briefly, so got to have lunch with him, and finally meet him in person.   Also had nice Italian lunch with Stephen F. from Manchester who was in London for the day.   Stephen is an old rec.arts.theatre.musicals friend who I've known through the internet for ages - we'd also met a few times before when he was in San Diego.  I'd also scored a copy of the libretto from FOLLIES that day when we stopped by Samuel French - it was something I'd long wanted and it had been reissued, unbeknownst to me - so it was a pleasant surprise.

I'd also been out to Blackfen and Our Lady of the Rosary this year.  Mac M has been most supportive.  Was out for a blogonic in February, and was VERY fortunate to arrange for Q to have Fr. Tim's 10:30 Saturday Latin Mass be offered for Q on Oct 21st - his one year anniversary of death. The picture here is the elevation at that mass.   And I also went over when Mac renewed her vows early December.    Fun, but too bad they are WAY over on the other side of London.  A crummy 20 miles as crow flies turns into either: 120 mile round trip in car via M-25 (gas 1.39 a liter about 8.50 a US gallon) OR two train changes plus bus and longer to get there.   Works out same price either way, roughly.  I also had to move, but remain in Feltham and hope in the New Year to get a job locally as a) I like this end of London as it is close to everywhere I'd want to go.

But even some of the good days can get wrecked.  Like Dec. 8th - I was finally feeling good enough to get a few things done on the same day - a bank errand (a different one!) and then walked over to Mass -- where I found I had completely forgotten the parish had its 80th anniversary celebration.  Really wonderful Mass with different communities contributing, and a great reception afterwards.  Then went shopping, home, made dinner and found I had *lost* my wedding ring.  Well, temporarily anyway.  4 days later found it in a place I'd checked twice already.  But I was just sick with grief in the time it was missing.  Fr. Chris V. of St. Lawrence, Feltham has been most kind, as well as has his Anglican priest cousin, Fr. Paul W.   And the aforementioned David and Diana D., and I had lunch one afternoon with Q's parents in Fleet.

I also got up to the Richmond Deer Park 3 times this year.  Once for lunch at Pembroke Lodge - where David Niven was posted for a spell during WWII when he was in Phantom Regiment.  Richmond park sits on the top of a promentory in west London about 8 miles as the crow flies from where I live.  One of the few pleasures Q and I had together his last year was going there on the way home after his radiation treatments.  I was sorry the "Fenton" episode happened shortly after his death.  Oh, how he would have laughed.  We always managed to see either an English Springer Spaniel or a Highland Westie, and sometimes both on the same day.  We'd had DDDs of those same variety.  The deer are incredibly tame. You can drive through the park, but the speed limit is only 20 for good reason.  Like cops everywhere, the local constabulary *loves* nailing people going over the limit through the thing.  Good reason too - some of those deer will literally graze along the boarder of the road.

My parents-in-law just celebrated their 60th anniversary on the 22nd of this month, and I was able to arrange that they get congratulations from the Queen.  I was happy to do that, because I'm sure Q would have remembered to do that.  Seems she's the only efficient one with a half-way decent staff.  My father in law answered the door at 7:30 in the morning on the day of their anniversary.  The letter had to be specially signed for, and it had to be reported back to Her Maj. if it hadn't been delivered by 9 a.m. that day!

 I was able to get up to see them for Christmas and they have been very kind and supportive.  So I guess that has been the very best thing this year. This photo, as far as I know is one of the few if not THE only photo of Quentin taken with his parents in recent years.  I took it almost exactly 2 years ago -- literally days before we found out Q was seriously ill with terminal cancer.   I envy his parent's 60 years together.  Q and I didn't even get a 1st anniversary.  John will be 90 this next Lincoln's Birthday and Lorna is two months younger than her Maj.

Next year?  Please God, let it be better - I can't take too many more like this.

Dr. David Starkey - Newest Recipient of the Prestigious HA Award

Some people should be horsewhipped.  Let's start with this idiot, Dr. David Starkey who makes excuses that no one ever explained to 'Asian' [i.e. in this particular euphemism it means MUSLIM] Pakistanis that British girls are not to be passed around as sex slaves.  As typical, the Torygraph isn't open for comment on this news item, otherwise they'd eventually have their servers melt from the torrent of invective from their readership.

Here is a pull quote:

"The historian said “nobody ever explained” to the men – eight of Pakistani origin and one from Afghanistan – that women could not be treated in this way.

Dr Starkey called for better teaching of English history to create a “common identity” and overcome the challenges of multiculturalism.

But the comments are likely to prompt condemnation just a day after the men were handed sentences of between four and 19 years for the offences.

Liverpool Crown Court heard the group plied five victims with drink and drugs and "passed them around" for sex.

The girls were abused at two takeaway restaurants in the Heywood area of Rochdale by the men aged between 24 and 59. The takeaways are now under new management.Speaking at a conference staged by Brighton College, the private school in East Sussex, Dr Starkey said that the “only way we are going to get to be able to survive as a multi-cultural society is if we re-address the story – the real story – of English history.”

Later in the story he makes this astonishing statement:  “Those men were acting within their own cultural norms. Nobody ever explained to them that the history of women in Britain was once rather similar to that in Pakistan and it had changed.”

Someone remind me WHEN in UK history was it ever 'okay' to pass women around in a rape gang?  I majored in European history, especially British history, and I just don't remember that.

No, Starkey, you dumb bunny.  It wasn't that they weren't taught 'British History' -- it's that they have not developed a sense of morals any civilized human being should have.  Teaching them about Magna Carta isn't going to make them stop thinking every woman not wearing a burqa and accompanied by 2 male relatives is 'available.'

For more disgust and outrage see this story re: how the police knew about this 'Asian' sex gang as early as 2002.

Hey, here's a thought for the Home Office you can apply when you're not busy persecuting the widows of Englishmen:  How about when these 'Asians' come into your country they have to sign a piece of paper which states:  'I understand that whilst I am in the UK I am not to grab women and rape them and pass them among my buddies merely because they are not wearing a burqa and attended by a male relative.  I further understand that if I do violate this law, that I will be taken to the place from whence I have come, have my body wrapped in pigskin, and will be strung up by my testicles and hung until dead."

Start with that.

7 months of UK Border Agency Torture and No End in Sight

Unless they sent me something yesterday. I was too depressed to even check the mail. So that's 'my' update. Or all of it that I am giving publicly. Because to get into how bad it is is too depressing. A month now since I talked to the MP. NADA. Zilch. Zip. Bupkis.

Still No Visa

Here walks the dumbest woman in Christendom.

What to tell the Dawkins Botherers

Works for me.

I think Her Majesty might just take him on

As you can see she has been scouting around.

Little House on the Prairie meets the Horsecollar

Okay, so I'm in a bitchy mood today.  But Really.    Mrs. C. normally doesn't go this far off kilter -- but what in hell was she thinking?   As far as I know she is not a Mennonite on rumspringa, and her budget for fabric should extend a little further than JCPenny.  I didn't even know JC Penny carried fabric, but apparently they do.   And Moochie.  Ah, well.  The one time the gown is quite acceptable ... what is with that horsecollar of a blue mess around her neck? Is that a disguised millstone?  Moochie, honey.  Less is more.  Try a nice double strand of pearls next time.  And the hemlines.  Oh.  Dear.  It's a wonder that neither of them walked up the inside of their  dresses.

Sunset

I live just south of Heathrow Terminal 4 - and I have to say the sky is always interesting here.  It was crappy rain all day, but right at the end of the day just at sunset for a few fleeting moments, everything turned red.

The mound off in the distance Quentin and I used to call our own little Grand Canyon, because depending on the time of day and the conditions, the color of the mound could be anything from white/gray/brown/orange, and very occasionally, like this evening, red.  I don't remember seeing it this red before.    If you blow the picture up, to the right of the mound between the poplar trees you can see the spire of the church we were married in, St. George's, Hanworth.    I took the closeup below of it last January on our wedding day. The church dates back to about 1293, though most of what you see here is more modern.  See here for a bit of history.

Being on the far west end of London, and so near the airport, I'm grateful for the green bits around.  The main par of the town I live in, Feltham, is just over the mound and to the left.  Feltham isn't much of a town, but I have to say it's nicely situated as somewhere to be if you want to jump on one of the M-ways.  So it's about an hour and 15 minutes or so to Oxford, about an hour to Henley, a half hour to my in-laws in Fleet (lovely little town that is) and about 15 minutes to Richmond and about 40 minutes to the Brompton Oratory, which is by the V&A museum and close to Harrods.  The train runs just behind the mound, though it's hard to see unless you happen to look right at it as its passing for Staines, Windsor, and other parts west, or come to think if it east for that matter.  Seems I always see it westbound.

Anyway, I'll be doing a few bits of 'travelogue' to catch up on all that I didn't do from when I first came over.  Haven't been gallivanting much at all this last year and some months, mainly due to looking after Q most of the time, and then wanting to save some moola.  At any rate, the town is kind of 'damn all when you get here' BUT it is pretty close to anywhere I'd want to get, which is what counts!  Only drawback is Our Lady of the Rosary out at Blackfen isn't very practical to get to, being on the other side of London, and because there really aren't any good freeways THROUGH the place, you have to go all the hell the way around on the M-25 -- which makes it about 60 minutes by car -- for what [here comes the bitch and moan] SHOULD BE a crummy 20 minute drive, Blackfen only being about 20 miles as the crow flies.  But no........it's gotta be 120 mile round trip by car, or an hour some each way by bus->train to Waterloo where you switch Trains->then catch bus to OLR.  So with wait times, and bus time tacked on closer to two hours each way.

See? Even the Queen thinks so

..and she should know.

She's been having 'ishoos' all day.

Wish there was some Sun in the Sky

Dreary end Feb. beginning of March weather.  It's not particularly cold, but it's the gray, or grey or whatever.  Mentally in better shape this morning than I've been all week.  Have been fighting a nasty sore throat and flem, but it's getting better, and compared to this type of cold, I know it could have been much worse.  Must have gotten it from one of those evil supermarket checkout clerks - because that's about the only people I've interacted with in the last few weeks.  The first cold I've had since I came over to England.

Feeling better enough to take a stab at PHP and other LAMP elements I need to add to my repertoire.    Still no visa.  Which makes it so frustrating because I can't even apply for jobs I see online.  I'm beginning to think I might even have to start an on-line business and base it in the USA.  Any stream of income would help, multiples would be great, but right now I'm working on the first one.  I wish I personally KNEW someone who managed to make a living doing stuff entirely on-line.  No get rich quick stuff.  Just a steady modest income would do.

Exactly 2 years ago yesterday...

...my Quentin assisted at Mass at Blackfriars in Oxford.  He was MC on the Far Right.   Fr. Lawrence Lew was the subdeacon.  We'd not yet 'net met' but scarcely more than two months later we were secretly engaged. The occasion below was the annual Requiem Mass for Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester.  You can read what my husband had posted about it here.

The Duke died Feb. 23, 1447.  As Q put it:

"Now why, you may ask, should one have a Requiem for someone who has been dead for well over 550 years?

Well, largely because however long or short a time someone has been dead, until we know they’re in Heaven, we must assume that they are still in Purgatory, and need our prayers – and the only people of whom we know they’re in Heaven are the Saints, of whose presence in Heaven God has given us proof."

I hope everyone keeps that in mind and prays for Quentin when they think of him.

These may not be a ideal pictures of Q -  most people have hundreds of photos of their loved ones. By comparison I have relatively few.  So every one is precious.

Not long after this event, he also  wrote an item called, 'Dying in Dignity'. regards his 1st wife's death of cancer.  A rather poignant bit is what he said about the pain and suffering - which he himself was to suffer less than two years later.

Quentin wrote:

"My wife would have scorned to ask for an ‘easy way out’; and she would certainly never have thought of it as ‘dignified’ to seek an early death, despite the weeks of mental anguish, not to mention the physical pain involved. Indeed, when someone asked if she was afraid of dying she said ‘Of course; but it’s like Easter,isn't it – you can’t have Easter Day without Good Friday, and I can’t have the Resurrection without the Passion.’Alright, in the event (and when she was barely conscious) she was given pain relief at the end; but ultimately she died in the knowledge – and the confidence – that (to quote the hymn)

‘Long years ago, when earth lay dark and still;
Rose a loud cry, upon a lonely hill;
When, in the frailty of our human clay
Christ, our redeemer, passed the self-same way.’

She accepted that to die was only to go where Jesus had gone before her; and that there was nothing about it to be afraid of, except the fear itself : and the legacy she left behind of patient trust in God touched many people. Would they have been as impressed if she’d said ‘Oh well, if I have to die, I might as well do it now – give me the injection’? I very much doubt it."

Quentin was very brave, accepted his cancer, and not once did he voice 'why me?'    Quentin was conscious to the last and was blessed to have last rites within 15 minutes before he died, as well as having myself in attendance and his parents had just made it to our home immediately after the priest had left.  I believe it safe to say he had the grace of a happy death, though he must have suffered much.  Please keep him in your prayers.

"Safe" Statutory Rape Paid for with Federal Tax Dollars

How 'nice.'  In California, the age of legal consent for sex is 18, and some other states also have that age.  In the vast majority of states, the legal age is 16.  Only a handful of states put the age at 14-15, in every state 12-13 would constitute statutory rape.

See full story here.

From the article:

"Teenagers in several counties can get condoms in the mail for free under a program launched this week and supported by state public health officials. The Condom Access Project allows youth between the ages of 12 and 19 to order a package of 10 condoms, lube and health brochures online at TeenSource.org, a website run by the nonprofit California Family Health Council. The package will be mailed to them in a nondescript yellow envelope."

and further down:

"The condom program is supported by the California Department of Public Health's STD Control Branch and will be paid for with federal funds.   [In addition to Kern country] It is also available in Alameda, Sacramento and San Joaquin counties and parts of San Francisco. Teens will be limited to one package of condoms per month. 

"It'd be best if teens didn't have sex, but if they're going to do it anyway, they need to protect themselves," said Denis Smith, director of disease control for the Kern County Department of Public Health, which is not involved with the project. "As a public health department, we have an obligation to provide education and tools."

I suppose, by that logic, now we can expect 12-13 year olds to be able to discretely get free hypodermic needles because if kids are going to shoot up, we want them to be 'safe' -- and of course Uncle Sucker should continue to pick up the tab.

See here for state by state reference for age of consent.