Introduction

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 http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/

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: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/JJNP

Saturday, 20 October 2012

Good morning bloggys,

Great adventures have been had since I last nattered at you.

The library closed early as it does on a Friday, and I went hunting for stickers, I was very lucky and quickly found enough stickers.
So I sat in McD's and drank a long slow cuppa as I waited for soup kitchen time. I am lucky that soup kitchen is early in this town.

soup kitchen arrived a few minutes late, I always anticipate being pushed out the way because that is what happens in some other places, but here I seem to get in first, and so I get a cup of delicious milky coffee within minutes, and then a sandwich.
And then I realise that I recognise the soup kitchen people, the lady who gave me money to put my backpack in store, and the man who gave me the mass times are there, it is the turn of the church that I have started going to.
The lady makes an effort to ensure that I have plenty of food, some to take away with me.
I get some soup and I have plenty of milky coffee and some tea.

The lady asks if I am feeling better for not carrying the backpack, and I say yes, I say it is hard to carry your house on your back all the time, especially if you are hungry.
a homeless man overhears me and agrees, he comes over and introduces himself and points his partner out to me, he says they saw me near where they sleep, and I tell him that I was looking for somewhere to set my stove up to brew coffee.
He tells me they have a stove, he tells me that they are travelling homeless the same as me, and we start having a comparison of towns debate that another homeless guy joins in with.
Then he asks me where I am sleeping and as usual I say I can't tell, he tells me that I am welcome to join them where they are, and when I ask if the outreach or police hassle them he says no, he says the outreach sometimes bring hot drinks and the land belongs to the cafe and the cafe people allow them to be there.

Wow. So I end up walking up with them, they have roll mats but I pick up a sheet of cardboard on the way for me. And I stop to gether my backpack and bedding.
We get there and it is obviously a gathering place for homeless and vulnerable people in the evening and then usually five or six or so of them bed down here while others return to hostels and supported accommodation.

This is an ideal set up, no one minds the homeless being here as it is away from everywhere except the college, whose students are noisy enough, and it is by the truck and coach park and toilets so lots of people pass through here but it is not a residential area.
And the homeless who live here treat it with respect. Yesterday some vandals came in and spraypainted and dug out plants and the homeless chased them off and called the police.

The gathering in this area gets a bit noisy and lively and some of them drink, my new friends don't drink, neither do I, and there is an old chap called Santa, I may have mentioned him before when I was last in this town as he was at the daycentre one day, Santa doesn't drink or get rowdy, he sits happily reading his book and occasionally laughing at things people say.
It is luxury to be somewhere where you can read at night, for most homeless people the dark means kip down time as there is not enough light to spare for reading, but here is well lit.

so here we are, me and the homeless couple, Santa, a guy that they call 'Daddy', and a guy and his girlfriend and his girlfriend's brother, the guy is a rough sleeper, his girlfriend is in a hostel and the brother is housed and working after years of homelessness, he has simply come to check that his sister is ok.
And another couple stop by briefly, they are in separate hostels and are not allowed to spend the night together so they tend to stay out walking until the early hours.

well it is a bit of a party, but nothing too rowdy or annoying, Santa keeps right on reading his book and the laughter and alcohol don't bother me, no one bothers me, the girl's brother seems slightly interested in me but I don't respond, and in time those who are not staying drift off.

I am in a corner to sleep, with a wall behind me and a wall alongside me, the guy who's girlfriend is in a hostel is going to sleep next to me, at a perfectly gentlemanly distance, and then Santa is next along from him, lengthways by the bench, then the couple are next to him and Daddy is the last in the row.

Daddy is drunk and struggling to get in his sleeping bag and one of the guys, who is also a bit drunk, goes to help him, they are cussing each other and struggling with the sleeping bag while the rest of us hoot with laughter and shout out about bed time stories and things.

Then I bed down and the guy next to me, who I will call Scotty2, goes to put his duvet down, then another guy turns up with a pizza and a bottle of cider and starts calling Scotty2 names and handing out pizza and drinking cider.
I think as I lie there in my sleeping bag eating pizza and watching Scotty2 dancing around and cussing this guy for calling him an ex-nun 'Homeless people are stark raving bonkers'.
Scotty2 beds down folded in his duvet with his back to me, far enough away for me to feel comfortable and is asleep instantly and snoring, he was a bit drunk.

And then I fell asleep, not long later I wake because of giggling nearby, there are some very high immigrants who can't stop giggling, Daddy goes over and asks them to share the joke or leave, the homeless people are actually dominant and the immigrants try unsuccesfully to calm down, and then they, leave. 'Too much weed' says Daddy.

I sleep again, I sleep soundly but towards morning my dreams are sad and distressing.
I wake warm and comfortable at 6.50am, my alarm is buzzing in my pocket, I have had quite a lie in compared to normal.
The others are waking, and Daddy is up and pottering about.
I go to the loo and tuck back into my bedding afterwards.
I laze about as the others are doing, until about 7.30, and then it is getting up time, it is a cold morning with a hint of mist.
some of the others head straight off, but Santa and the couple who brought me here stay around longer, then Santa heads off before the cafe owner arrives, because he doesn't like being given a cup of tea.
Then there is just me and the couple left, and the cafe owners arrive and set up, the cafe lady makes us all a big hot cup of delicious tea.

she talks to the homeless man who called the police about the vandals and she said she had spoken to the police because she didn't want them hassling the homeless over the vandalism because we are 'her homeless people' and she knows it wasn't us doing the vandalism.
Apparently the police said that they would never disturb us unless we were doing something we shouldn't.
Hm, we have a little homeless sanctuary here.
It turns out that the lady and her husband are Christians who are very involved in outreach and the church.

Anyway, the couple tend to stay in that area and I am going into town as usual, so we part company for the day, I go into town and go to church for a quick prayer, check the bins, have a wash and come here.



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