Sunshine on a Rainy Day...

I took this pic on Friday as I took Patch the Dog for a walk (or vice versa). There's something that renews my wonder of the world when I see rays of sunshine shining through the clouds. Like a child who sees something new and exciting for the first time. 

Yes even with Patch yanking my arm out of its socket and the usual worries of work, bills etc etc, every now and then something reminds me to stop and wonder at the glory of God's creation. 

Yes. Even you Patch. 

An Open Letter to Skechers Shoes

Dear Skechers Shoe People,

I bought these shoes 10 years ago in Boston, in that there America. 

Despite wearing them to the point of destruction, you can imagine my horror when yesterday, after some heavy gardening, the sole began to come away. 

Now I know many items have an inbuilt obsolescence (Mrs H says I've somehow stumbled and mumbled my way past mine) but in this age of countering the throwaway culture I'm distraught that my trusty workingmen's shoes have finally given up the ghost. 

It's in this regard I throw myself on your munificence and ask that you let me trade in my old pair for a new pair. Now I know I no longer have the receipt nor the box but I'm sure as men of this world (if I were wearing high heals I'd address my concerns to a lady, but despite modern fads and fallacies I'm not, so I won't) we can agree to a mutually beneficial outcome in this matter - new shoes for me - and loads of free advertising for you. 

Imagine the scene. Lots of trendy folks are strutting their stuff of a Saturday afternoon and I go by in my spankingly new Skechers shoes. "Oh wow!" they'll exclaim, as I glide by "look at them there shoes. It's like being in downtown LA or sumfink." A few weeks of that will be akin to a paid advert slap bang in the middle of Ant & Dec (no I don't know which is which either). 

It's either that or a tube of super glue or (horror steeped on horror) they'll find their way to a landfill site. And I don't think any of us wish to see that happen. 

So if you'll post a trade-in voucher to me I'll vouch (geddit?) in turn to be the feet of Skechers (I'd say be the face of Skechers like Demi Lovato but let's be realistic, she's not in my league). 

Yours in hope,

Gareth Hurley (aka 'the feet of Skechers'). 

Wheelie Bin Laden - another Evil Mullah

Those evil Bin Ladens! First Osama in Afghan, now his Irish brother "Wheelie". 😱 will the evil never end?

Bart Finishes the Lights

Bartholomew Q. Kibble-Smythe (the spider) has finally finished the trunking over the electric wires. 

"Let there be light!" He proclaimed. 

It struck me he's given to melodramatics. But a good sparky is worth his weight in gold. 

That's £20 with Bart. 

I asked him if he liked quoting Genesis and he mumbled something appreciative of Peter Gabriel (and "Collins should've kept to the drums") before scuttling away. Ever the primadonna.

Bartholomew Q Kubbel Smythe

I have a new friend and his name is Bartholomew Q. Kubbel-Smythe. But he likes to be called Bart. 

I haven't asked him what the Q is for. Yet. It's still early days.

Conservative Anti-Extremist Legislation: 1215 Betrayed

In Hong Kong people protest not to have politicians impose their rulers, to limit their freedoms. 

Here we'll soon be told who the politicians think are unacceptable, and who they'd like to see banned from speaking. 

Should we see any similarities? 

Should we kick out ancient freedoms on a whim? Should we overturn traditions for votes? Should we silence critics of a system even if we disapprove of them? Who decides who's unacceptable? The Conservatives? Labour? Or another party you may disagree with?

If you support terrorism it's already illegal. I don't see the need for knee-jerk laws. 

Who will decide what is extreme? A few years ago fighting for 'gay marriage' would be viewed as extreme. Nowadays fighting against it might be viewed as such by those in power. 

A few years ago the secret police spied and bugged CND activists. Who decides who is next and if the state has these new powers, who might they seek to silence?

It seems to me we have more than enough powers to deal with those who support terrorism. Racial and religious hatred is already illegal. Even "homophobia" is (via the -- fnarr fnarr -- back-door) illegal. So why any need for a questionable new law?

It seems more to do with winning over The Sun newspaper ahead of the general election than any serious measure to deal with a threat from a vocal minority of Muslims. 

It may not be the start of any curtailment of our freedoms. But ask yourself these two questions:

1. Why take the risk?

2. Do you trust politicians to do what's right?

Eleanor of Aquitaine and Our Freedoms

Without Eleanor of Aquitaine we may not have the freedoms the government is now trying to take away...

1. She became Queen of England and the Angevin Empire/Dynasty.
2. She enabled the rise of William Marshall, probably the greatest knight of his age who served Henry II and Richard I.
3. Later as Earl of Pembroke he brought King John & the rebel barons together.
4. This resulted in Magna Carta, which William signed after the death of King John.
5. Many of the rights of Magna Carta - to property, Habeus Corpus, trial by jury etc. - we now take for granted. Yet the government seems to have many in its sights...

I think we throw away ancient freedoms at our peril.

Cardinal Nichols, Cardiff City, Reds V the Blues

In a week when Mr Fox snacked on our chickens, we needed something to lift our spirits.

How nice then to see Cardinal Nichols with a Cardiff City shirt.

Such a shame that he chose the red version and not the Marian blue (with yellow and white Vatican trim), so beloved of many popes.

I know he got a red hat, but to empathise with Cardiff fans perhaps he should have chosen a blue hat?

A blue hat for blue times...

Still, as St Thomas More - friend of Cardinal St John Fisher - said, no one gets to heaven on a feather bed. That's a sentiment Cardiff fans can associate with!

The (Pro) Lifer Baby Grow

I like this baby grow.

Not only is it very funny & cute, it is also subtly Pro-Life. It reminds everyone that the baby was inside his/her mum for 9 months - as were we all.

No jokes about hard labour. Honest.

Remember GKC is For Life - Not Just for Christmas

GKC is on the Tree by G. Hurley

At last! At last! Oh felicity.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Nativity.

Oh happiness and peace profound
When family are gathered 'round.

The Christ-child born, the greatest day.
Our festivities are under-way.

Our joy is complete when we see
GKC on our Christmas tree.

Richard Vivian Huzzey RIP

It was a sad occasion Monday (16th Sept) as the Huzzey side of the family gathered in Cardiff to say a farewell to my uncle Richard. I was going to just pop a few notes on facebook but it was when sending messages to an American* cousin, who takes a great interest in family events, that I realised it would be a good idea to write a little more, if only for the American side of the family.

It was a lovely late Summer's morning, lots of sunshine but a chill in the air. We arrived early as we'd followed my mum and dad up from Roath and left early just in case of school traffic. Lots of family and friends gathered and it was especially heart-warming to see members of the Cardiff Mini Club there, of which my uncle had been a founding member. The chapel was fit to burst and some folks stood at the back. Seeing Richard's boys - Lewis and Luke - as pall-bearers was heart-rending. What an awful thing... to carry your dad's coffin. God bless them, I don't know how on earth they coped.

The singing of the hymn (Love Divine) was amazing - the Welsh fittingly fulfilling one of our stereotypes. It was like standing in the middle of a group of male voice choirs. The booming words echoed in the chapel.

After the service, many of us stopped to chat outside and then friends and family moved to the Manor Parc Country Hotel. It was a wonderful opportunity to chat with people we hadn't seen for so long. It reminded me that the last time I saw and chatted to uncle Rich was my nan's (his mum's) funeral, and as usual he had had a smile on his face. He'd gone through a lot of problems with his health but you could always rely on Uncle Rich to crack a joke and have a laugh, nothing seemed to get him down.

A funeral is always going to be a sad occasion, and so it was on Monday, but I like to think once the tears have been dabbed away, it's a time for remembering and reminiscing. Having kept in touch with Lewis online for sometime, I was able to have a good chat with him about his recent trip to see Manchester United, and laugh with him about his dad being a keen Chelsea fan.

Then there's the people you bump into, like Alison, the daughter of my (Great) Uncle Herb and (Great) Auntie Deed. It was fantastic to chat to her about her mum and dad. When I stayed up my Nan and Da's in Pentwyn I used to pop over to Herb and Deeds' house. I spent many happy times over there with their budgie, who Alison told me Uncle Herb taught to swear! Perhaps I was too innocent, but I didn't remember that detail. What a lovely lady to chat to, just like her parents were lovely to spend time with all those years ago.

In their little corner of Pentwyn my Nan and Da lived across the road from Auntie Deed and Uncle Herb who lived a couple of doors down from Uncle Rich and Auntie Jackie. So staying up my Nan's meant visiting all three! Alison said that when they were young children her and Richard used to play together and as little more than toddlers Richard had asked to marry her! It's funny the things that stick in our memories isn't it?

Speaking to mum afterwards and reading what others had to say it seemed that everyone 'enjoyed' the funeral. I now that seems a weird thing to say, but I'm sure all of us would want the same when we go - to have our family and friends remember us fondly and gather to celebrate, just as the Irish do, to remember a life, to remember the good times.

I'm sure there's bits I've missed out, but I hope this will give my cousins and other relatives in America a little taste of the funeral of their relative, Richard Vivian Huzzey




*or strictly speaking a Texan as my best-man insists they should never have joined the Union! He is bonkers, but he could be right I suppose.


And as I mentioned on facebook - it was Paul Dingle's idea that I should take some sarnies home in his words "I am, and I only live 'round the corner." Just in case anyone thought I was like Albert Steptoe! :)

7th June: RIP Private Daniel 'Roddy' Hurley

Today is the anniversary of the death of my Uncle Roddy - Private Daniel R Hurley, who passed away on the 7th of June, 1944.

We know he made it it to the Battle of Merville Battery which took out German coastal guns to protect the D-Day landings. What we do not know - as yet - is if he died there, the day after the battle perhaps of his wounds cared for by the German doctor who stayed behind to care for the British soldiers (Paras).

Or perhaps he died the day after the battle at an engagement with a German 'Ostruppen' unit. These were soldiers from Turkmenistan in the USSR who volunteered to fight for the Germans.

Hopefully one day we'll know exactly where and how he died...

Please say a prayer for the repose of his soul.

Daniel Roderick Hurley, RIP.

Private DR Hurley Jumped from Dakota Alongside Glen the Para Dog

An Update from Steve Smith whose grandfather fought with my uncle, Daniel "Roddy" Hurley, in 9 Para A Company at D-Day:

I just wanted you to know that Daniel Hurley jumped with Emile Corteil, Glen (para dog) and James Baty.  Emile and Glen were due to jump first but due to the dog being scared James stayed and helped Emile retrieve Glen from under a seat.  Emile jumped after Glen then James was the last to jump from the plane.

Daniel made it to the RV on the drop zone and was collected with a number of others by Brigadier Hill.  The rest I am sure you know.

I also found a letter in the National Archives from a Private Franklin detailing how my grandfather, jumping number 8 from a different Dakota, had jumped after him.  They both met up at the rendezvous on the drop zone but the battalion had already moved off the drop zone.  They made haste and managed to catch up to the battalion before it reached the battery.  Both were present for the assault but sadly that was the last time he was seen by Franklin. 

How fabulous to know that Uncle Roddy jumped with the famous Glen the Para Dog - seen in many wartime pictures - was at the the Battle for Merville Battery (as we long suspected, knowing that he died the day after, 7/6/44).

A big thanks to Steve for all his work and for sharing this!

Cardiff Promoted on Pope's Birthday

I have already proved, beyond reasonable doubt that Pope (Emeritus) Benedict XVI is Welsh: see post here.

Now it's settled for good after Cardiff City held back winning promotion to the Premier League until Pope Benedict's birthday, the 16th of April.

Rumours that Cardiff will change their shirt colours next year to those of the Swiss Guard have been, er, scotched by Cardiff manager a Mr Malky McMalkyson and Pope Francis whose sole response was: "Blooooooooooobirds."

Right: Cardiff City's new away strip for 2013-14 Season?

An Ode to Auntie Mary (nee Loughlin) - A Late Happy Birthday.

Although your birthday's been and gone
I knew I couldn't wait so long
As another 12 months until next year
To raise a glass and raise a cheer.

So via this ode may I just say
To the best Aunt, Happy birthday.
So there we go: better late then never.
(P.S. We all hope you live forever).