R's rue

He was the younger brother of two British kings - King Edward VIII and King George VI and he was our current queen's uncle. His name was John. Prince John - the youngest child of King George V and Queen Mary of Teck. Born in 1905 on the Sandringham estate in Norfolk he died there in 1919 at the tender age of thirteen. For the last three years of his life, John, or Johnnie as he was known by his family, lived beyond the glare of the press and the public under the care of his nanny - Charlotte Bill. Prince John always called her "Lala". At first John had seemed like a normal child but much of his brief life was blighted by epilepsy. Fits occurred with alarming frequency and they took a toll upon his general health. It is likely that he had other issues too - possibly autism. Sometimes local children were brought to Sandringham to play and pass time with Prince John. He formed a special relationship with a Yorkshire lass called Winifred Thomas. She was the niece of ...

 Feel the fear Taste the tears And rise again Knowing  How far You’ve come from R's rue https://ift.tt/3ePxFIF

 Sitting on the balcony Remembering your throaty laugh Trying to recreate it While not sobbing is a hard task I miss looking down at the pool and having  talks in broken Spanish to every neighbor Who already knew  I was one of your grandchildren The way you  were loved is something today that I aspire to be known for That says She is mine Latin roots you leave them but they don't  leave you They reappear never to be shunned again from R's rue https://ift.tt/3eVAzfe

  Isn’t there a saying which goes something like  “ If you want something doing, give your job to a busy man ( Woman)”? I’m back at work today, which is timely, and last night, after nearly three weeks enforced isolation inactivity, I left choir halfway through our zoom meeting, ignored  Bake Off ( which has become incredibly boring without the more interesting characters ) and in a surprisingly short four hour period organised and plotted out my book of Going Gently Seeing the words written down, is an odd feeling. Mainly because the sentence looks incredibly pompous  The book won’t be any work of art. ( of course it bloody won’t) but it may be  a frothy, light and hopefully occasionally moving version of Going Gently’s better bits.  Cherry Picking fifteen years in the life  of a middle aged Gay man, who left a status job in a much loved Northern City to play at the role of county gent, smallholder and smug Village Linda Snell won’t be ea...