Everyone needs a little bad luck

This is a good start to a Sunday morning

Yep. It is true. Everyone needs a little bad luck now and again otherwise we would not appreciate things.

Last week, was a week straight out of Hell for me. Forget about my half decent laptop and my old backup machine crashing. I want to write about Combi Boilers and being cold.

When mine failed last Saturday, with loss of heating and hot water, I knew I was in trouble as no way could I afford an engineer and then within a few days my two ways of accessing the net were taken away by machine failures.

I was in a fine rage and freezing to boot. I felt that Lady Luck who had always seemed to travel with me through life had finally deserted me.

So if any of the reds who had threatened to come visiting and burn me out, had actually came around I would have welcomed their arrival with open arms. I felt the need to lash out and they would have been legitimate targets and I would now be in prison.

In fact I even thought about going to buy a dog just so I could kick it. Only joking. I love dogs. They truly are a mans best friend. They ask for nothing and in return give total unconditional love.

I have had only two dogs in my life, both border collies, a breed I believe to be the most intelligent, gentle and loyal ever. After the death of old age of my first, I vowed never to have another as his loss ripped a part of me away. But time goes by and I accepted the gift of a young pup from a local sheep farmer.

Never regretted it until he too died of old age, my dog not the farmer. The pain of his loss was twice as intense and I will never have another dog. It is a terrible thing to say but I grieved more over his passing then I did over the loss of people I knew. Like I said, a terrible thing to say.

Whilst reading in the evenings, embedded into my favourite chair in the good old days, he would often stroll over, sit down in front of me and gaze at my face. I would look up from my book and he would never turn his eyes away. He would just sit looking at my face until I returned to my book, whilst he continued to stare - for hours.

And I would wonder what he was thinking. I wondered if he could remember how, as a young undisciplined pup he had managed to jump up onto the table, grab the Sunday Roast and attempted to swallow it whole.

I was alerted by a gurgling noise and found him choking with the metal meat skewer across his mouth like the bit in a horses mouth. Grabbing both ends of the skewer I pulled the meat from his throat like pulling a cork from a bottle. It really did exit with a pop. So relieved was I that he was OK, that I chopped the joint up and fed it to him on his recovery. He had a great life. Catholics say that animals do not have souls, I am not so sure.

But I digress. Yesterday my kinsman, John of Gwent turned up and we stripped that boiler down and got it going after many hours. Then cracked two cans and talked about projects we had worked on together in the past after we had fired it up and removed our fur hats and coats.

On a roll, we then turned our attention to the laptop. Were we succesful? I will let this article help you make your mind up. It is a real Heath Robinson job but I am back online.

JOG and I together are never beaten. And that is why the BNP will never be beaten. Their members are the same as us, they do not lie down and just accept fate, they fight back and resolve their problems with the tools available or make themselves. It is the British Way.

So this morning, sat semi-naked(not a pleasant sight) at my machine, whilst posting Albions excellent article I realised that you do not appreciate your situation or things until they go wrong. So my run of bad luck as taught me to appreciate things I had always taken for granted and to appreciate my friends more. I just wish I had one of my dogs here staring up at me as I type.

Have a good Sunday Kinsmen.

Tags: Albion, BNP