Pride is something we hear people say but seldom do we see it take such a form as I saw on Boxing Day 2016.
You see we all meet up at my mums on Boxing Day, it’s like an American supper where everyone brings some food. So there is know pressure on my mum to cook. It’s just a great family get-together. Now I know this is nothing special in it’s self. You would and everyone else would have done something like this. After all it is Christmas and this is what we do. 

It’s just this Boxing Day was planned for me, my brother and sister and our retrospective children. That’s it about twelve people thirteen if you include my mother. But this didn’t happen because we had the next generation of family turn up in force. And this was brilliant. There was nieces and nephews and they are all grown up too, so they brought there children. In the end I think I counted twenty two. Ranging from under one years old to over eighty years old. It was brilliant. Sadly some people couldn’t be with us but were missed greatly.  
Now when pride made an appearance was when my mother walked in to the room and every chair and table and cushion and spare square foot of floor had a body on it. And when she walked in every one of them faces turned and smiled. She said in a soft voice.
 ‘this is all because of me’ 
That’s it, that’s all. She said and some didn’t even hear her, but I did. And the expression on her face was of pride and disbelief at the shear accomplishment of making such a thing happen.  

I saw pride in her eyes, which In turn made me proud of her. 

I love you mum and thank you for making me possible. I really do owe you everything. 

Moments of Importance 


Some moments are ment to change us and some are meant to fade like a smoke ring carried on a passing breeze. Such moments like, the first look from a girl across the room. The first time a girl holds your hand. The first time you pluck up the nerve to kiss her on her lips, the clash of teeth and the acupaning realisation that you are not as good a kisser as you thought.  A true Constant in life is love. And if your lucky enough to find it and you hold on to it. Then happeness will follow.

Whatever love may be, I think its emotion, the rawest emotion of all, it fills our lives with Purpose. Without it memory’s will fade and dullness takes over. Just remember that in the end we don’t look up a picture of our best car or wish to see a statement of our closing balance.

We look into the eyes of a loved one and remember them moments of importance. Them moments that filled our life with love and smiles. Have a good day and I hope it’s full of such moments.

Photo from

It’s My Birthday Blog!

41st_birthday_vintage_personalized_announcement-r36f0574b989a4e1bb8d251cec8afaf08_8dnmv_8byvr_216Picture from

Well, here we are again, on my birthday. I don’t have many deep thoughts or profound truth to share today, even though, at 41, maybe I’m supposed to enter into a status of maturity and impart wisdom on all unsuspecting youthful twenty somethings. Well maybe, but hay ho who am I to tell you what to do. I could be accused of opening my mouth to much on the odd occasion, I could even be right in what ever wisdom I’m spouting (on the odd occasion). All I can do is tell you what I have learnt. Some people may disagree with me every now and then but I think I should share all the same.  After all isn’t that why we all blog in the first place.

Enough of all that. I stumbled across a question offered by baseball player named Satchel Paige and thought it fitting being its my birthday.

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?”

Now this really ticks the boxes for me right now, mainly because I’m forty-one years old and feel younger by far. So if I didn’t know how old I was then I would be a lot younger if asked.

He was also quoted saying, “Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, then it doesn’t matter.”
I love this one, because it really reflex’s my own opinion on the growing old dilemma. It only matters if you let it. 
So ask yourself the first question and when you have finished answering that one then think about the whether it matters to you.

I’m forty-one and love the fact that I’m more wise about the world and people. I can hold a conversation with most if not all people I come across. My life experience has given me the knowledge to write many short stories and almost two novels. I have two children and a wife of over twenty years. Happy is the under statement, I’m ecstatic with my age and the life that I’m living. We trade the youth for the wise and its a win for me no mater how I look at it.

I think this sum’s it up quite nicely.

Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.  ~ Chili Davis

So happy birthday to all that share this day with me today. Enjoy it whatever your age.




Father. Dad. Daddy. Pops. The Old Man. 

I’m quite sure I called him each one of these at least one or twice. If memory serves me, my sister love to call him pops. Without a doubt he was one of the most influential role models in my life, he was an amazing man. This is becoming more and more apparent as the years start to pass now that he is gone. He had a huge heart and loved his family, especially at times like today when we would all come together to celebrate his accomplishment of being the father of four children. I admire his drive to have his own business, his dream was to have all his children working with him in a family business. Sadly this dream was never realised but his willingness to take that risk is worth admiration. I loved the way people would always have something nice to say about him.

My dad didn’t get to stay with us as long as I would have liked. He passed away two years ago. But not forgotten is what today is about, because he is and never will be forgotten. My relationship with my Dad has influenced me in ways I would never have imagined. He loved his poetry and my older brother has taken that torch with a flair that would make my dad proud. My oldest brother has his temperament and holds it so close I sometimes have a double take when he speaks, again my dad would be very proud. As for my sister, well she has his humour in abundance. When she laughs, she lights up just as he used to. If you catch her in the right moment she would probably laugh her-self into the ground. 

As for me, well I have his story telling. He was the master of telling a story. He would reminisce about old army days and rugby tails of fights and laughs. Out of all my siblings I believe I got the best deal. I have children of my own and they call me dad now, (never pops or old man) and if I take one lesson I have learnt from my dad, it is that your children will always need you even though they say they don’t. I will be the best father I can be as my dad was the best he could be. 

On Father’s Day tell your Dad you love him, or if he isn’t here, take a moment to think of him.

Happy Fathers day Dad.

Family Day

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Today was once a somber day in our house. Its an anniversary that is welcomed and feared each year. Me and my wife had a baby boy called luke, he was born at forty weeks and five days. His weight was 7 lb. 11 oz and he had dark hair. Sadly he was still born.

This happened on April the fifteenth 2000. He would have been twelve today.

For the first few years we would shed tears, hug lots and visit the cemetery. The years passed and we had two more boys. With these our expectations of this day began to change. Five years ago our oldest son asked if we could do somthing a bit more fun on this day. After a brief period of soul searching and a small amount of guilt we did just that.

Now five years on, this day has evolved from being a day of remembrance. The day has changed, both our boys, and me and my wife call this day our family day. It dosent matter whether it’s raining or sunshine we go do something fun, in remembrance of Luke. Although our two sons never really knew of Luke they are very aware of his presence and importance in our lives. My wish is that as they grow, we can carry this tradition on and make this day always a day for the family.

I ask that you take the people you care for and go and have some fun today. Its what life is about.

Halloween flash fiction

Hi to all the young witches and vampires out there. It’s halloween again and I love this time of year, frights and costumes are getting better and better each year. England seems to be getting better at this the more time goes on. So in celebration of this ever so special time of year I wrote a very short story, in fact its more like flash fiction than a short story. Enjoy.

Comments are always welcome.

There is a Monster at my window

It was strange, and looking back it was quite understandable to be scared. Come on there was a monster at my window.

It had come for the last three nights, just after midnight (I knew the time because there was a clock with glowing hands hung next to the window) Each night it would tap tap tap on the glass with its long white finger nails. Just three taps, then it would show me its teeth in a fierce snarl. Its eyes would glow red with a wave of fire flowing within them. I thought it could probably shoot fire from them.

Tap Tap Tap on the window.

By the forth night I thought it best to tell my parents. My mum looked at me over the toad in the hole.

“A monster, what in your bedroom?” said my father.

“No it is at my window, it taps three times then”

“Well” he interrupted with a mouth full of sausage. “Well if it’s outside you don’t have to worry about it. Anyway I’m here and won’t let anything happen to you”

I slammed my knife and fork down in the hope to shock them. “SAM” my mother shouted. “SAM”my father shouted both together, my father carried on after they looked at each other. “Sam you will not get the right sort of attention by doing that”

“You do it” I said soon to regret it.

“Now go to your room until”

“But the monster at my window” I interrupted.

“There is NO monster at your window” said my father.

As I walked up the stairs my legs went heavy. I thought tonight would be the night. Them taps would become bangs and then it would break through and kill us all.

The monster did not fail me. In the hope to ignore it I kept my head below the covers checking the time every now and then. But the closure it got to midnight the more I checked. The big hand of the clock was one minute from twelve. The second hand was at the six. Thirty seconds until it would come. I checked again ten seconds, five four three two one.


Its face was big and covered in fur the colour of fire and wood. Its fingers were scaled and the long white nails were taping on the glass. It opened its mouth and a split tong swung out from between its blue cold lips.


Moments later the door swung open and standing there was my dad, stud behind him was my mum.

“Samantha What are you shouting for” said my dad.

“She’s petrified” said my mother. She sat down next to me and held me close.

“Tell me what happened princess” said my dad he would always call me princess when he wanted to calm me. I like that about him.

“It was at the window, it comes every night just after midnight”

“It could be because it halloween tomorrow night” said my mother to my father.

“Halloween or not I won’t have it scary my little princess. Tomorrow night I will be here at midnight and show her she has nothing to be scared about”

“What about tonight” I said “please stay, it might come back.

My father moved over to the window, the curtains where always bulled back, they swooped to the side leaving a diamond shape to see through. He moved them aside and looked out, his hand moved to the latch “NO DON’T” I shouted. He looked at me and smiled, them he open the window and poked his head out “there you go nothing out there, its all clear”

As they both left the room my father said “Now go to sleep and no more shouting”

No sooner had they closed the door the monster was back at the window but this time it was making a noise. It was like someone licking fire with a sizzle each time its tong touched its face.

In a gruff voice the monster said “Tomorrow night I will be here for you” it then hissed and vanished with a flash of fire.

The next morning I told my father all that had happened, he reassured me that all would be ok. He said “halloween is just a silly night for silly kids and you are no silly kid, are you?” I chose not to answer.

That night came round far to fast for me. My father came into my bedroom at eleven thirty and we watched the minuets pass, he kept telling me jokes that didn’t understand. Then there was only two minutes left.

“Not long now princess, then you can get some sleep” he smiled that smile and moved over to the window.

“No dad please stay here, don’t go over to the window it will” The monster rose from behind my father, it s teeth beard and fire flowing from its head like hair. My father looking at me did not see it, but his smile faded fast when he saw my face and the glow emanating from the fiery hair.

He turned, they where face to face, eye to eye. He walked toward the glass pain and reached for the handle.

“NO” I shouted “NO DAD DON’T”

He turned the handle and opened the window. My heart was beating fast, sweat was beading down my face with the heat that flooded the room.

My farther grabbed hold of the monsters head of flames, all I could think was how his hands must of burnt. They fell to the floor.

“MUMMY” I shouted as they rolled about on the floor, my fathers cloths were on fire now. “MUM DADS GETTING HURT”

She did not come, the monster was on top of my Father and rose its fist ready to smash it down. Then the most unbelievable thing happened. The flaming hairy monster bent down over my fathers neck, teeth bared dripping with saliva. And it kissed him on the lips. I waited for him to burn, but burn he did not. He kissed it back.

“Darling you are so wonderful, look she is so scared, how wonderful” it said in a not so gruff voice.

“Yes I know” he sat round “Samantha meet your mother”

“What… mother, no no no no its not mother its not” I’m now ashamed to say I cried, but given what I had just been through I think you will give me that.

When I rose my head my farther was a flaming monster too, in shock I backed against the wall.

“No no no no”

“Is that all your going to say” said my mother “because tonight is you night. My darling you are to come of age tonight”

A few moments later my hair burst into flames.

The end.

by Steven Glenn.

The Modest Writers in My Family

I thought it was about time I updated everyone on my writing progress. As it stands I have a number of, shall we say projects going on. Main one being my novel currently called Purple. a 104,000 word monster of a book. (for me) After saying that it truly is the most satisfying thing I have ever done.

Also I have written many short stories and have four more novels started, more outlined. Also I’m thinking about having a go at a stage play, just need a bit more research on that one.

Purple is in its third draft and doing well on feedback so far. I’m still finding spelling mistakes and plot holes. the iron that is revisions is doing a great job of smoothing them out.

Thanks again for the emails, I must be feeling good today I’m full of thanks. I might as well thank my family members who have commented recently. some great comments and surprise’s. It seems that I have many Budding writers in my family and shows me where I get my love for writing from. my father was a published poet he also has written six children story books. I have a cousin who is an editor and a aunty who has written her own novel. My brother writes poetry that would make any man laugh and cry. My uncle has released two self biographies, you can get them on amazon called John Carter.

Recently I have found that my brother-in-law is starting a short story, another cousin has gone down the creative writing route know doubt she can teach all of us a thing or two.

I suppose I’m trying to say that we writers seem to be modest by nature, and it’s only when we begin to talk about what we do that we find out how much we all have in common.

The Beauty of Woman

You know, you drive around, the sun breaks through the clouds. We feel warm and happy.

I think you can see a definite change in women in general when this happens. In the winter months, when it’s cloudy, it’s raining, or drizzle, it feels miserable. Oh did I forget Wet and damp. Well women cover up they have there hats on, umbrellas and big coats.

We don’t really see then. We just don’t notice them. They become part of the grey back ground.

I’m talking from a male point of view, from a mans point of veiw, I like to think of myself as a mans man, I believe in traditional values.

So as soon as that sun comes out woman change, they evolve like a butterfly, they will go from this coved up form, kin to a nun and then transform into a beautiful creature. They really do entice us all, my male friends pretty much say the same thing, we all notice. with the first bit of sun that the first thing a man notices is women. It Isn’t the sun its self, we love the sun only because women are gorgeous and I’m including my wife she is very gorgeous. (also to protect against fallback I only ever look at my wife, she is the only gorgeous woman for me) now that done I will carry on.
Even my wife does the same, see changes, see becomes vibrant and colourful, there is a little bit of flesh that starts to show this is coved up in the winter months. The skirts, the makeup, and then the smile.

This is the most important of the changes, the smile comes on most faces. We drive round the streets or we walk round the town centres, we go for walks at the weekends. If the suns out with blue sky’s and fluffy clouds then people smile and I presume men are smiling just as much as woman, it’s just that I don’t really notice as much. That’s because I find woman attractive. I dare say a man who finds men attractive would find them smiling alot. I would like to think that I smile more in the summer.
So I think this post is a testament to all women, to say thank you for uplifting my day and most other men’s day. I don’t think you realise what impact you have on us men of the world.

So Thanks.

Emotion’s part 4

Affection, Love, Happiness. (all the good ones)

These emotion’s seem really hard to write about.

I think its because where as the other emotions can be broken down I find it harder to break this one, when I do it kind of breaks the magic behind love and happiness.

I do believe in the magic that comes from caring for someone close to you, when you give over all you are. If you are as fortunate as me to have found the one person who you truly care about above and beyond yourself. (I think I will get some stick for this post)

Maybe this is it, we give affection to others in the hope that it will be returned. The problem is that sometimes it’s not returned and we start on one of those other emotion. This is what’s hard about the good emotions, they take an effort to keep. Were as the bad ones like hate and anger these take an effort to get rid of. It’s easy to stay angry. It’s harder to be happy.
Which in its self is kind of cool because most people you will meet are happy. I know a lot of people who are in love with someone. So at least we can take joy from the fact that most people want to smile and be your friend.
This is a quote I like from Albert Camus

Do not walk in front of me; I may not follow.

Do not walk behind me; I may not lead.

Just walk beside me and be my friend.

(like I said, I think I might get some stick for this post, showing my softer side I think)

I do like that that Albert Camus has written. It basically says be my friend, not by boss, nor me yours.

When I decided to write about emotions I did a bit of research. Did you know that there are 48 separate emotional states. I won’t cover all of them, that could get boring fast. But I do find the emotional state very interesting, how we mix and match them depending on who we are interacting with. How some people can be angry at one person then turn and be nice to the next. while others get into an emotional state, no mater who they see, that state will not change, it has to run its course. (heart on there sleeve comes to mind)

This variety in the Human emotions makes for very interesting discussions. Me and my wife will talk and when out eating at a restaurant we people watch. It soon becomes apparent that people are all the same, we all have the same worries and problems while at the same time we all have the same desirer to be connected and wanted by others.

Life is good if we understand that deep down we all want the same.

To Lie?

I was going to call this post emotions number four but lies are not really an emotion, although they do evoke an array of emotion.

First  I should define between a damaging lie and a white lie. I believe a white lie is when your partner says they had one biscuit when they really had two. A damaging lie is self explaining, they cause damage. The worst kind of lie is when the lie its self prevents you from fulfilling a promise or stops you from supporting the victim of the lie.

If you lie to someone close to you, the kind of person you would not normally betray. The disappointment you will cause that person will do a number of things to you (the lie giver). Firstly the guilt will make you angry at yourself which you will pass on. Also you would begin to avoid the victim of your lie (the one lied to), this in its self could cause more damage.

Then there is the trust lost, all lies do make themselves known eventually.

Someone once said if you cut your arm you will heal. If you keep cutting the arm eventually it will fall off. A lie is like a cut you only get to do it a few times. Then it will end.

As for the victim lies only hurt. There will never be a good one.

If I sound like a preacher I apologise, I don’t lie.