Happy New Year or Life is Great

Happy New Year everyone

 

Don’t read the news. Don’t watch the news. Get out there and enjoy nature.

I am 72 years old and I just finished the 800 kilometer Camino Frances, 26 September. I am planning to do the Le Puy en Venay to St Jean Pied de Port next August to September, when I am 73, God willing. These Caminos give one a focus and a goal, not to mention the physical conditioning that goes along with it. And while doing it you tear yourself away from all the stresses and anxiety of the world around us and immerse yourself into God’s creation. Nature’s masterpieces. Beautiful!

Meet great people for memorable times.

Including the “SHADOW”

 

Life is beautiful

Get out there. You will not regret it. Your anxiety, stress and worries will wash away.

A good start to a Happy New Year

Out

Dead End Street

MAiD is Canada’s version of the final solution.

And I am not talking about a French Maid either.

French Maid Dress / Ladies Waitress Outfit UN17 - Make It Kinky

Medical Assistance in Death (MAiD) is now being offered in Canada for a host of Canadian maladies, including Veteran’s mobility issues.

There’s no life like it.

No there isn’t.

Up front and personal. I served my country and got the jab…for free. But it turned out to be the wrong jab!! I was feeling a tad depressed and anxious about the whole process.

Texas death row inmates await executions for decades

In my mind the same applies for abortion, especially full term abortions that some places and people agree with. Unbelievable.


Canada’s new WOKE Army:

Achtung, fertig, WK! Swiss Military Comedy Reloaded (Movie Review)

Hummmmmmmmmmmm.

On parade: There is no life like the military life. Hummmmmmmmmm.

I think I’d rather have this guy in my face:

10 Of The Worst Punishments From Life In The Military | RallyPoint


Would you want her to teach your child?

Teacher uses stuffed animals to teach children about pronouns and gender identities.

A California teacher posted on social media about using a “gender-fluid” stuffed animal to teach children how to use the proper pronouns: a llama Unicorn? Her or the stuffed animal? They’re not sure.

The teacher identifies as a “trans demiboy non-binary.” Say what???

No wonder there is a pandemic of anxiety and depression out there.

Home school your child and stay well clear of universities.

Oh sweet Saint of San Andreas, or the Yellowstone super caldera, hear my prayer.

Western society is on the path of a dead end street.

https://youtu.be/i0WPC-N3UYE


Check out my books. All available through Amazon. They would make great Christmas gifts. Go to www.johnmorrisonauthor.com or .ca for more information about these books, or me, plus reviews.

www.johnmorrisonauthor.com

Have a nice day.

 

Akaru-Hime: New LIfe

And yet another excerpt:


A very successful first day on the water for Lillian’s new life as the inanimate protégé for Mr Sommers’ attention…and for Ruth and I. We spent the next few Saturday afternoons working with Lillian. We would not venture out if the weather was nasty as Mr Sommers felt our experience level was not commensurate with the expertise needed in a strong wind. No matter for me as I would spend that time helping Sommers at the shipyard maintaining Lillian. There was still much work to do on the interior. Ruth, when not at school, would come down and help. I looked forward to her presence with us as I found I was beginning to miss her when she was away. I was thinking of her all the time.

The next few years went by quickly. I had finished my forms at Dartmouth. I decided that the Navy life was not for me and as grateful as I was that the Royal Navy saved my life and instilled a sense of discipline and self worth and confidence into my psyche I could not see that kind of life for me. I declined the offer of a commission as an Officer Cadet or a rating.  Seeing first hand what these young men had to put up with, my own upbringing, with its neglect and physical and verbal abuse, lack of love, instilled into my character a strong sense of independence and selfishness. My back would often rise and my temper flare at the slightest occurrence of an over bearing authority. Little did I realize at the time that the forbearance of love and of patience for me in my early life would become a dominant factor of my own personality in the way that I treated those for whom I felt were beneath me. Little did I know at the time that this would become an overriding determinant of my character in future years to come. But this was my survival instinct that I felt I needed in a world that I felt, unconsciously, was harsh, cruel and void of love. It was the only way I knew in handling relationships of a non carnal nature. The only way I knew of getting things done as most people had done with me. Mr Sommers was the exception. But that would manifest itself later and beget considerable loneliness. As a late blooming teenage boy I had no understanding of such things.

Ruth and I grew closer and closer as the months turned into years. Often times we would go out on the Dart in “Lilly” and explore the area stopping from time to time on a bank of cool grass upriver a way. We talked…erm…she talked of many things.  She was a young woman now. Gone were the boyish locks. Her hair now fell to her shoulders, fashionably coifed with natural curls that were interspersed and intertwined within wave upon wave of strawberry blond tresses that were particularly radiant in the afterglow of a late afternoon sun. Her complexion was flawless and was all the more exotic and welcoming by just a hint of makeup. She was naturally beautiful. Well proportioned, athletic, strong. Her breasts were mature and full, not large, perfect for her physical size.  She had her mother’s eyes I was told. Hazel green for the most part with the slightest touch of grey and an intimation of violet if the sunlight graced her features just so. You could almost detect the coloured hue of violet in a reflective measure of sunlight only to lose sight of it on closer inspection.

“Whaaaat” she would say, teasingly, as my gaze burrowed into her eyes.

“Your eyes Ruth.” I thought they to be green, hazel perhaps, but just then I could detect some violet. Violet, for heaven’s sake?”

“My eyes are green Nigel Filtness.” she laughed as if she needed to scold me, turn me straight. “Maybe a tad hazel but green predominantly.”

Predominantly…predominantly? She had a better way with words than I will ever have. Her diction was precise, flawless really, unlike the guttural slang that came out of my mouth. I was intimidated by her yet she never belittled me.

“I like you Nigel Filtness.” she would announce, as if she was my queen and I her peon…jester. “King….Nigel”, never the Queen. I may be female but I would be KING of all of England, and Wales, maybe Scotland, Ireland perhaps. No, no never Scotland as I can never understand the brogue there.” She giggled. “But Ireland? Ah the land of song, poetry, romance and tragedy. Suffering, tragic Ireland. The Emerald Isle.

“Ireland?” I would ask of her as I lay on my back, my eyes closed, the sun high in the sky but on with its western slide.

“Yes Ireland Nigel” she sat there, smiling, as if pleased with her own insight, sitting as she was with her legs flat out across the grass in front of her with her arms back and to her sides holding her up. “Yes Ireland Nigel, the land of Yeats, of Shaw, of Oscar Wilde…”

“Oh the “poofter” I interjected.

Not saying a word she looked down at me with a scorn that could mortally wound.

“Of Oscar Wilde, Joyce, Michael Collins…” she paused and sighed a long passionate sounding sigh…of the revolutionaries, 1916 Ireland with Padraigh Pearse…”

“Who?” I countered.

“Padraigh Pearse Nigel. Padraigh was an Irish romantic poet, scholar, barrister, revolutionary of the 1916 Irish Rebellion. He was a tragic figure – a naïve Irish ideologue hero. He was executed as one of the Irish rebels of the Easter Riots.”

“Oh, you don’t say” was about all I could say. I felt extremely low intellectually whenever I was with Ruth.

Nevertheless Ruth and I became inseparable. “Lilly” and “Lillian” were our common thread; our common bond; and our common love for sailing. Soon, the intricacies of Lillian’s unique gaff rig configuration became second nature to both of us. We knew Lillian’s quirks like the backs of our palms. It was not long before Mr Sommers had full confidence in both of us. And before long it was not an unusual sight for the Dartmouth and Kingswear sailing community to recognize us both for what we were: respected local seafarers. Lillian, and us, became synonymous with the regulars of the sailing community, particularly those members of the Royal Dartmouth Yacht Club, of which Mr Sommers was a lifetime member, as an icon of the Dart maritime environment. Even the Royal Naval College took note of us, particularly Petty Officer Brand.

“Nigel…Nigel.” Petty Officer Brand asked of me one day while about on the Hindostan.

“Yes Sir.” I was still part of the Royal Navy at Dartmouth but not for very much longer.

“We’re taking Mercury to Gibraltar in the spring. Would you be interested in joining us.”

“But I will be finished here Sir.”

“No matter Nigel. I can offer you an extension for the purposes of this trip. You will be released on return. I can have that in writing. It will be a great experience for you. Almost a direct sail down. We can take a frigate ride home. We intend to leave Mercury at our base there for use by the Garrison. – adventure training as it were.

“Let me think on that sir.”

“Fine Nigel, let me know. But soon. Oh and one other thing. You will be tasked as our principal navigator. A great opportunity for you.”

“What about kit?”

“That will all be taken care of. Sextants, tables, almanac everything. You will also have charge of your own watch.”

“Yes indeed.” was all I said, Yes indeedy” then left for Kingswear with a pronounced spring in my step.

I was so excited. I had to tell Ruth and Mr. Sommers.

SJ…Out

Click on the links at the top of the page.

 

It’s My Life

Those dastardly evil oil and gas companies’ technology. Amazing


Love this:

Canadians are sheeple and will follow anybody over the cliff without question. Whatever happened to critical thinking in this country?

‘It’s infuriating’: Constituents of Ontario MPP Randy Hillier call for his removal. Why? Because he is questioning the draconian measures in place to lock down the Ontario economy and they, the constituents, don’t like his stance on this one bit.

See the source imageToo late.

 

Some Ontario C-19 stats:

87% of all C-19 mortality in the province occurs in the 70+ ages and infirm. (55% of the 87% were in LTC facilities (just 78k residents)).

70+ is just 12% of the population, or 1.8m people.

69&Under mortality rate: 0.22%, 49&U mortality rate: .03%.

0 “of COVID” child deaths

It should be a focused response. Almost all of the LTC at risk people have been vaccinated. Given the low risks of the other age groups, open up the damn economy.

Oh to live in Texas.


“It’s Your Life. Reclaim it.”

Laurence Fox is a British actor best known for his role as DS Hathaway in the popular British Detective series “Lewis.” He is now running for Mayor of London. Here is his campaign video. Brilliant, and the same could be said for any city here in Canada, any provincial government and especially our Federal Government.

“Nobody should say their last goodbyes to anybody on an IPad ever again.”

Right on.

Its my life: Convince yourself. It’s your life, don’t you forget.

SJ…..Out.

The Kids Are Our Future

John Turner passed away at 91. Canada’s 17th PM albeit for a very short time. He stood in after Trudeau the 1st resigned. I liked him. Good looking man, well educated but a very humble and honest human being. If one remembers, Mulroney clobbered Turner in one of the debates of 1984, Mulroney delivered that famous knock-out line: “You had an option Sir…”

Turner had no credible response to that line. He stuttered, then stammered, then stumbled, then lost. It was all over for him.

R.I.P Mr. Turner.

See the source image

Goodbye to the “Silver Fox”


I just watched Netflix’s “Social Dilemma.” It is a terrifying documentary about the toxic combination of social media and surveillance capitalism — and how together they’re harming our lives and our society. That would be Facebook, Google, Twitter, Pinterest, You Tube and all the rest of the social media family.

If you have young children you especially need to watch this. It is scary.

But this generation is not the first for control of the masses. Witness the Metropolis movie of 1927:

If we’re not careful and attentive this could be our future.

Housing under government controls:

See the source image

The UN’s vision of a new suburbia:

See the source image

Sustainable food production:

See the source image

Universal heath care:

See the source image

Personal initiative:

See the source image

Loss of freedom and independence with government controls:

See the source image

This is the UN’s vision for the future for all of us:

WAKE UP!

It certainly is so live it and turn off the screen, phone, tablets and social media and get out there and enjoy life.

What? Me worry?

See the source image

Happy Monday

SJ………………..Out