This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

I went looking for soup kitchen, no sign, miles of cars and no people, then I saw a solitary man with a sleeping bag, he was having a good old chat to himself, so I asked him if this was where soup kitchen was and he said yes and went back to chatting to himself. They he told me it wouldn't be for half an hour, I had been told the wrong time, and it is cold to sit or stand and wait.

One by one shadowy people started to congregate, until there were about 20, quiet and serious, no laughter as there was in the other town, and these people spit a lot, the only sign I saw that this town is any rougher than the other.
No one even laughed at Patrick riding shotgun on my backpack.

soup kitchen arrived, and it was good, everyone got a good quality parcel containing sandwiches, crisps, a cake, a chocolate wafer, and there was real delicious home made soup and tea and coffee.

There were only two other females in the group, the group remained quiet and there was no pushing and shoving.
The staff kept offering everyone chocolate biscuits and peanuts and more soup. It was nice, and the staff didn't do anything except serve food, no attempts to chat to me about being homeless, thank God.

Right, now I just have to work out how to spend the most difficult night, the first night in a new town.

No comments:

Post a Comment