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:

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Tuesday Morning

Good morning,

Well after a troubled night, I woke from sad and vivid dreams at 4.30am, tried to settle to sleep, couldn't, so got up at 5am and began writing letters.

It was a cold clear night when got up, bright stars shining, but now it is a misty dawn, the mist is hiding the hills and the sky is red with dawn, it is almost light enough for a bike ride, so I will dress and head out.


I went for my bike ride. Oh I feel sorry for those who do not get to do this.
Early morning, mist over the sea and hills, a red sun rising out of the mist, cold smoky autumn air, peaceful quiet miles of sea gently breaking on the sand. A few quiet people out walking, mainly with dogs, and miles of empty quiet space.
What a blessing.
Some people never get to see this.

I stayed out, biking the front and the car parks and stopping to just look at the scenery.
The mist lifted off the Great Hill but is still lying on the eastern hills. I don't like the Great Hill to be hidden too much by mist or rain, but at least this is real autumn mist, not the horrible smog of recent times, and this mist will lift as the day goes on. The sun is shining into my room and the migratory starlings are gossiping noisily on the telegraph wires.

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