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, 29 June 2016


Last night I was dreaming.
I dreamed about a field full of Christmas trees, young trees, not fully grown.
Bob Hill was there in a wheelchair, he still had aphasia, but he was smiling and he made it clear he understood what I had said and it was all OK.

This morning started with me trying to find a black bag for the rubbish as it is bin day. The landlord didn't know anything about bin day here and it is a different system, so I had to gather from the black bags out in the street and the seagulls, that it is bin day, and I had to scramble to get a black bag of house move debris out there before the bin men.

Then I went to get Max off the cliff, where he was watching the sea and dreaming. A dog had peed on his wheel, which isn't very nice.
I realised as I sat on the cliff, that Max sitting there looked just like Anna sitting at the viewpoint in St. Martin. Same car, different colour, different cliff. But so like a flashback.
I am having a lot of flashbacks recently.

It is a grey rainy day, the wind has dropped a bit but the sea is still troubled.

Tuesday, 28 June 2016


Morning peeps and stalky,

Yes I am at my new house, so I am too busy to tell you anything except no more hypos and Max's insurance premium actually dropped rather than rose even though he is kept on the road not on the drive.
That serious accident outside the old house the day before my exam pushed premiums up I think.

Here's to a wonderful day of throwing furniture around.

Monday, 27 June 2016

Thank you

This morning I woke at the new house, my second night there, although I have been spending my days here at the old place, trying to finish the move and clean the place.

Trying to clean when you have no food and scarce cleaning materials is too hard.
This morning I woke having not eaten since yesterday lunchtime.
I made tea but had no sugar, oh well, at least I didn't get caffeine withdrawal as well as low blood sugar.
I had a shower, and by 6.30 I was on my way back over here to the old flat, the intention is to finish this flat today and I have two gardens nearby to do as well.
It was daunting to think I could spend the day doing this with no food,

But I was lucky, someone had emailed and offered to help.

I am happy to say, I have now had a good meal and have got provisions and I am just about to go to work and get petrol before coming back here to finish the flat.

I should have money through starting from tomorrow and hopefully this is the end of the starvation for now.
Most of the expenses of moving are done, and I am just waiting to hear what the insurers say about max at the new house, it is likely to be a premium increase :(

Thank you to the person who saved me from another day of hunger and struggling, I don't think max would go much further on his petrol warning light and me on my food warning light, we were nearly done for, so thank you.

Sunday, 26 June 2016


Just to say, first and foremost I may not be blogging much this week, a bit taken up with moving home and surviving, nothing to worry about. Stalkerstat keeps logging in, Stalky, chill out, how come you were online during church?

This week I have had two episodes of hypoglycemia, and one nearly, I am just recovering from the second one now, thank God for neighbours who keep sugar in stock, I don't use sugar much.

The problem with a hypo is that it creeps up and becomes a real problem before you realise it, I tend to be drowsy and confused by the time I realise I am in difficulties, and the thing is, all it takes is something with sugar to put it right, as soon as you get something sugary into your mouth it starts to dissolve into the blood stream.

Normally I am extremely careful, I don't skip meals. I have known since I used to get very ill indeed when my youth group did sponsored fasts, that I can't fast.
You know what used to annoy me so much about the evilangelicals? Always always trying to tell me to fast! They fast so they can be seen, which makes it pointless.

The thing is with moving house, when you are destitute, if you use all your money on moving, then there is none left for food. So I keep going hypo, because I don't have sugar for tea and coffee normally so there is none in the house.
When I was on the streets, if I had a pound I had to choose between a hot drink with sugar or a cheap crappy McDonalds burger.

I have gone without adequate food this week and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing at all, there is no welfare available and I have no backup at all and never have had. Life started like this and went on like this. I guess that the church will be pushing me into desparate situations for the rest of my life.
I hope that at least briefly I can rest at my new home before the church trash my life again, but it is hard to hope for any form of change for the better now, it is getting too late.

I was writing this yesterday but am just continuing now. 'The Horse Whisperer' is on and I shouldn't watch it because it is distressing.

Moving house has taken all my money and I have no reserve, hard work uses more sugar, so yesterday I nearly went hypo, again, it was a good thing my neighbour had some sugar, he had just the end of a bag and so I was able to take in some sugar and then I lay on the floor and yawned until the hypo went over, it is very quick once you have sugar in your bloodstream.

I don't have any money, still, I do have money due to me next week, and work, but I have to stay awake until then, and I will. I do not beg or ask, but I will survive, after all I lived on the streets and ate out of bins for three years, didn't I?
Your fault, stalky, stop making things worse for me!

Saturday, 25 June 2016

Opera, pillars of fire, lightning

I wrote the Opera article earlier this week:


I don't want to eclipse the latest revelation of the depth of John Cameron of the NSPCC's evil and corruption, but people are asking me to at least say something about my daily life again. What can I say? I am sitting here in the stupor that is preventing me from taking vital action about making sure I am secure in a new home. I can't even get myself to shower or fill in vital paperwork. Paperwork seems silly when you have been senselessly publicly destroyed.

We went to the Opera the other night. Glyndebourne House doing live Barber of Seville.
I thought the Barber of Seville was the one who singed the King of Spain's beard? No, apparently not.

Opera is an acquired taste, isn't it? I hear that wine is too, but I never developed a taste for alcohol, I think alcohol is only any use as a disinfectant, but it is cheaper to buy flash with bleach from the pound shop.

Anyway, I hated Madama Butterfly, but The Barber of Seville was great. I think the acting made the difference, they were all very good, and it was funny. Worth missing Hollyoaks for.
I really liked Figaro

I have to say, I liked Figaro, he was awesome, but the Count was also awesome, and the Doctor and the girl were also very good, so was the housekeeper, there was no bad acting or singing in this. It is funny in contrast to the MET, who were worse than a village hall for Madama Butterfly. I would love to see Glyndebourne's Barber of Seville again.
However, no one warned me that the Dean of Jersey got a role in this production! Don Basilio.

You know the funny thing about Opera, the audience is mainly fat old Anglicans and Catholics - you can tell the difference because the Catholics genuflect to the screen before going to their seats! :) But there the two of us are, two autistic academics, discussing environmental science before the programme starts.

Anyway, it was a late night, not ideal while moving home and fighting for my life. I do not see how I can avoid a relapse with what I am trying to do at the moment, and there is no way I can afford a relapse right now.

Triggers of relapse - over-expenditure of limited energy, stress, dentist, travel, tiredness and lack of sleep.
Now all of the above apply. I have been out late at Opera, I have shifted heavy loads of stuff, I have had to travel quite a bit, used all my money, got too tired, and tomorrow I have dentist, he is going to try crowning my tooth. So I may relapse, which will be a disaster within the week I am trying to get a roof over my head.

The Last Day:

Recently I don't want to wake up and do the papers, but it is a tragedy that I have to give up doing them because the Church of England lost me my home.

So this is the last day, two days after the stupid polling station made it hard for me to deliver the papers to the flats, and a day after the EU referendum result and Prime Minister's resignation were on the news as soon as I got home from doing the papers.
It has been a strange week, no doubt about that. Some of the week can't be recorded here, as usual due to risk to me from the church and their authorities if they are able to trace me.

This morning I wake feeling tired, reluctant to get up, but not in great pain, but considering the ordeal of the dentist yesterday after a morning of hard work and also some heavy house moving work, it is amazing I am in as fit condition as I am. Normally I would have relapsed with all this.
I am not in relapse.
Those of you who don't know how poor people move from one small tenancy to another, we don't get a big removal van and move on the day, we move bit by bit without a removal van.

Anyway, I fell sleepily out of bed this morning, I don't like waking up because of the church. I went to the shop and we went through the motions of saying goodbye before I sorted the papers and headed out.
It has always been an awkward round, and in a way I don't mind that it is over, trying to safely do the papers along the main roads isn't fun, and trying to do an about turn for the second half of the round is no fun, the steps on the lower slopes of the Great Hill is no fun. Oh well, it got me up and out of nightmares and it earned a living.
I can't afford food today because I have to get a man to move my bed today. Haha, it's the only time a man goes near my bed! Lets keep it that way.

I have a slight problem that I have to move some furniture this morning without eating, my blood sugar may drop too low, and although I have tea, I have no sugar. No-one here is better off, my neighbour owes me money because I made sure he had money for food the other week and he still came round and asked if I could help him with food yesterday, he goes hungry a lot too but he doesn't get hypoglycemia, so he is marginally better off than me.

Anyway, the papers were done by 7.25 this morning, I was always the stand-in if paperboys and girls were off sick, so in the end I only had my round to do. I see the other shop are yet again looking for cover for the rural routes that I used to do, it is not an easy task.
My new landlord is one person I have been delivering papers to for so long, never knowing he would become my landlord!

So the paper round days are over. I am not at all sure that is a good thing but life is life. So far no-one will stop the Church of England taking my life and living from me. Nothing I own or do is safe from them.
My blood sugar level is already too low.

Max the Lion:

It was sad but I wouldn't have got Florence through her MOT.
I can't really do the kind of work I do without a car and in an area where buses are bad and expensive.
So I contacted the car's best friend about Florence's younger brother, Max, he was reluctant to sell but he had always planned on selling Max as he had too many cars and Max had been an unexpected extra that he had grown rather attached to. I had always had first refusal on Max, so we agreed a price but at the time he didn't think he could do anything about Florence.
However, he changed his mind and said he would assess Florence and we would make decisions.

When it came the time to swap cars, I was feeling very bad because of the church and I didn't want to test drive Max. To make it worse, his clutch and brakes are so sharp that I kept stalling him, and I was so nervous I was driving really messily.
When we got back, the car's best friend drove Florence off into the sunset and I sat there with Max, feeling stupid. I just wanted Florence.

I moved Max round into Florence's parking space, and then everyone appeared out of hiding.
'Oh, you've got a new car!' They said, as if they hadn't been waiting there knowing very well.

It was a very comforting moment as everyone inspected Max and talked to me. They have no idea how much it helped.
It was like a big event, because Florence is well known, she is a character and is well liked, no-one wanted her scrapped.
Well I was so reluctant to drive Max, but I had no choice, the deal was done, and I realised that part of the problem was that Max was the same make and Model as Anna, the tragic Jersey car, and I haven't been able to process what happened in Jersey so it still affects me.

Anyway, I made myself drive Max, and very soon I was OK with him.
He is not a character, he is a steady plodder, he is not like Florence or Anna.

Anyway, the first verdict on Florence was that she would pass an MOT with a bit of work, but before a more thorough inspection was carried out, someone asked to buy her!
Florence rolls nortily into her 25th year of life, cheerfully spitting parts everywhere, with a new owner. She didn't make me much money, but it is amazing that she is staying on the road and made me any money at all!
Florence was all spark and fire, loved and full of character, Max is a plodding Fell Pony, no spirit, but he picks up speed very quickly without me noticing, so I have to be careful.

Max's New House Adventures:

Well it was evening by the time the negotiations on the flat were completed. Friday evening. I was tired and I wanted Hollyoaks and bed.
I headed towards home, the one road that winds round the Great Hill. Unfortunately towards the bottom of the hill there had been a crash, an ambulance and an upside down car, flashing lights and all.
So I turned in the road and headed back up the hill, Max's petrol light went on, he can run a long way on empty, I know that from Anna and Florence, Peugeots do run a long way on empty, one of the reasons I only have peugeots :)
Still, how was I going to get home? There is no other direct route, and the other road was closed down with the road dug up. I was stumped.
No Wifi, but somehow an email came through from a contract gardener about some work he will share with me. But no way of looking up traffic and travel, and nothing on the radio, the Great Hill obliterates the signal.

I sit for a while and see if the crash road has re-opened, no it hasn't. I am a short drive from home but there is no way through, it is late and I am tired.
The road doesn't re-open that night.
I try to get through on a country lane, but no joy, on the way I meet a lady who has lost her dogs, apparently she was out seeing to the horses, and the dogs got out of the paddock, it brings back memories. We didn't find the dogs and I still can't get home. I guess she found the dogs later, it is not easy to lose dogs permenantly.

In the end people are being told how to get through, a very long drive indeed just to get to a place only a few miles away normally.
Max holds out with the petrol warning light on as we limp home. He plods steady and unfussed, Fell Pony Car compared to Florence's Arabian Spark and nerves.

The Pillar of Fire:

I dropped a load of stuff at the new flat, the air was heavy and humid, horrible weather to move house in, sweating as I drag heavy objects around.
Then I turn Max round onto the cliff top in the gathering dusk.
Thunder rumbles and the clouds loom, a storm would be very welcome.

On the cliff, the sea is gloomy in the gathering dark and storm.
Lightning splits the sky far out as the sunset lights the edges of the cloud.
I notice something over towards the French Coast, it looks like a pillar of fire.

I realise that it is rather an amazing thing, a rainbow in the gathering dark, with the sunset reflecting on it. I have never seen anything like this before. It looks like a pillar of fire! Awesome.

I head back towards home, and the clouds break in torrents of rain. The thunder is crashing now and lightning splits the sky as Max races down the hill towards home. It is all so awesome that I pull over to enjoy the storm and the now cooler air.

Tuesday, 14 June 2016

Return to Jersey's safeguarding attack

Dear Jersey Peadophile Protection Board,

Send your 'report' about me to other safeguarding boards, explain to them about how it is conflicted and how Fisher liaised with Gull and how Dakin 'appointed' Gull, make sure this is out in the open, but not in the sense of your intended discrediting attack on me on behalf of the church and police.
Also, as asked, send your whitewash report to me for my court case against you.
And while you are at it, you aren't blind, Philip Bailhache was unable to defend his protection of paedophiles when challenged, and you saw his public attacks on me and use of his dual roles in states and church, why haven't you acted? Furthermore why have you not informed the church of england of the safeguarding risk that Philip Bailhache is?
You have only been proving my point and it is more evidence for the court. 


Sunday, 12 June 2016

Archbishop Abuse Case

Dear Editors, Press regulation authorities, Home Office, Safeguarding Boards and other recipients,

The Archbishop of Canterbury's corporation, the Church of England, is under investigation for systemic crimes against Children.
Some of those children died as children as a result or committed suicide as adults as a result of their abuse. All survivors are affected for life by what they endured.

I am a vulnerable adult Church abuse survivor who the Archbishop has publicly destroyed and discredited while falsely claiming, with the help of the press and media, that that the Church of England are very hot on safeguarding. The press and media buy this without question and broadcast it and mislead the general public, anguishing the voiceless survivors who know that the truth is very different.

I can assure you in truth that my experience is that the Church of England continue to fail to understand even the basics of safeguarding. No abuse survivor should ever have to fight for their life against the Church as I and others have.

I am disabled and with no support, so I have to earn a living despite being incapacitated by the Church.  My working day starts at 6am, 7 days a week, delivering newspapers. Unfortunately some people in my area still read the Daily Mail, so presumably some believe what is written in it.
Every time the Daily Mail or another paper offers a front page advertisement to the Church of England in the form of Archbishop Justin Welby, I am left ill and incapacitated and I can't do my work. If I have to stop work, I go hungry, it is as simple as that, and this has been made known to the Archbishop, safeguarding board and Lambeth Palace repeatedly.

The Press and media have been asked, and a complaint has gone to the IPSO that abuse victims should not have to endure the Church of England showing off while crimes of sexual assault by members of the Church are being investigated.
Nor should the Church have the inordinate power that leads to them being able to make press releases that are published without question, even at the expense of the Church's victims, as has happened in my case. No one challenges the Church publicly, they are reminiscent of a Dictatorship, their actions and press releases are not regulated, policed or monitored. 

They are a wealthy organization, inappropriately combining being a charity and a government department whilst being a domain of the wealthy middle class, the Church belongs in a bygone age where abuse of power in this way was almost acceptable, the Church is not a place for the vulnerable and it's exclusiveness isn't appropriate and isn't justified by it's low numbers of select members of society.
 How can middle class people understand abuse or conflicted middle class judges investigate abuse in an organization that they subscribe to, when they don't understand vulnerability or what abuse does to a person? Where can hurt, vulnerable and voiceless victims turn when the Church is in government and contains a large amount of the judges, lawyers and other officials who would oversee abuse complaints, most people have no chance of justice and most vulnerable people  would not know of the conflicts of interests, they would only know that they aren't granted justice.

The Archbishop has gone from very recently using the press and media to publicly discredit me and what I have suffered, to using the press and media to intervene in the Europe Debate, despite the Church of England's own rules forbidding clergy from influencing votes and elections. The Press and Media have published this without question and have done so while the church are under investigation for systemic sexual assaults on children.  Any other organization under such investigation would be ashamed and avoiding limelight, but Justin Welby is a desparate narcissist, greedy for attention, gobbling the limelight without closing his mouth or chewing.

But most seriously, in my case, a serious formal complaint of abuse has been made against him, to his own safeguarding board, who as yet, have failed to fulfil their duty of care in any way and are sitting on their hands with their mouths wide open as Welby continues to dance and shout ever more desparately. 
Justin Welby has a serious formal complaint of abuse of a vulnerable adult against him, which has been made to his own safeguarding team, who are obliged to investigate but appear unwilling of afraid to do so, the complaint has also gone to the Home Office.
This is because the police, social services and all other agencies are willing to act to protect the Church but not to protect one of their victims or challenge the Church. And the safeguarding team seem unable to do anything except suddenly actually start answering their hotline because the National Inquiry are Investigating the Church of England. Can you believe, the CofE safeguarding board have actually employed someone to answer their phone instead of it going to voicemail! Incredible, what if they start safeguarding as well?!

The Church have had inordinate power over the press and media and inappropriate influence in public affairs for too long, and no organisation that systemically abuses children sexually and in other ways has any right to such limelight.

One of the most amusing things about this case is that it has been presented to the Queen and 10 Downing Street because no authority or agency dares to stand up to the Church of England, and within weeks, there is the press and media, running pictures of the Archbishop with the Queen and Prime Minister, there is the Archbishop doing a sickly sweet 'tribute' to the Queen instead of receiving a reprimand from her. Do the Queen and Prime Minister uphold this narcissist and the damage he does and the abuse his Church are guilty of? Do they understand the distress caused to abuse survivors by the Archbishop's behaviour?
The Church's communications team and press team have received this complaint persistently in writing and by email and phone, and yet it continues. Obviously they have no regard whatsoever for the harm they do.

I would ask again for the press and media and the overseers of the press and media to make sure the Church's abuse of the press and media comes to an end. The use of front page headlines to discuss the Archbishop's personal life instead of news  earlier this year disgusted a lot of people, and today's headline of the Archbishop trying to use the press to tell the plebs or his church how to vote was not only against the Church of England's own legislation, it was deeply inappropriate. The Church are not yet in full power as a dictatorship over this country but they are trying very hard to be, with the help of the press and media. However, we are still a democracy for the moment, and we do still think for ourselves, and many many people on social media today will be angry and disgusted with the Archbishop abusing his power yet again.

On a lighter note, the Archbishop may well swing the vote by his headlines, he is despised and held in contempt enough to make his yes vote cause a surge of no votes that will leave Britain separated from the European Union. Excellent. 
If the Archbishop needs to go into politics, he needs to be elected to a genuine political party, the Church of England Party is not officially registered although they act as if they think they are.

The Church of England's inordinate power is a risk to the vulnerable in society, and we are going into the fourth year of their safeguarding board behaving inappropriately with regards my case, but they have over three years of evidence, even in the press and media indelibly, of the Archbishop and Bishop harming a vulnerable adult, and they have no choice but to investigate or be invalid as a safeguarding board. And even if they whitewash it, as is the tradition of the Church of England, they must act and while doing so, they need to ask the abusers to stop abusing the press.
There has been no investigation into my case, only whitewashes and public smearing of me.

The complaint will remain and will be escalated and escalated. In the meantime, however many years it takes, the safeguarding board are obliged to stop the Archbishop from furthering the harm he has done, ie his persistent abuse of the press and media and misleading of the general public. They are also obliged to ask the Archbishop to apologize publicly to me for years of whitewash conflicted reports and smearing and discrediting press releases with no consideration for my wellbeing or safety, and the injuries inflicted on me as a result. 

I know the Archbishop likes to 'apologize' publicly and emptily to vulnerable groups to make the Church look good, and that is always pre-meditated, in the press and media spotlight, and with no genuine concern or care for the groups that he is using for his apologies. For example he blared an apology in the press to the LGBT community, while the Bishop of Winchester was publicly dismissing a homosexual couple for being homosexual, and Queen's chaplain Gavin Ashenden was also publicly attacking homosexuals and conveniently forgetting that as a divorcee clergyman, he has no credibility in the context of the Bible. 
But in my case, The Archbishop and his Church appear to think that their public harm to me is acceptable, after their original 'show' apology to me, they have destroyed me solidly and relentlessly. They won't apologize if it means they are held responsible. 

I have asked and will continue to ask for an independent investigation into what has happened to me in the Church of England, from the abuse and prejudice to the cover-ups and lies and whitewash reports to the abuse of me through the press by the Church and the hate attacks against me as a result of the church abusing my case. Could Graham Tilby and Jane Dodds of the National safeguarding board of the Church of England please start responding appropriately and stop making excuses for the Church?

Just to forestall the Safeguarding board's misleading response to this. They will claim that they 'invited me to meet with them'.
The Church do box ticking meetings if someone persists in complaining. I have refused a meeting because the offer came while the same safeguarding board was looking on as I was harmed in the press as well as being contacted by a Bishop who has behaved so shamefully and harmfully that I took him to court. 

The safeguarding board not only kept allowing this Bishop to distress me by contacting me despite my court action  against him, they claimed that 'The Church didn't mean to hurt me' and the contact 'wasn't meant to hurt me'. Can you see how ridiculous that is? I took the Bishop to court for fun did I? A litigant in person, no access to legal aid or representation, a destroyed vulnerable adult, terrified and sick with distress, up against a church lawyer who lied, a vulnerable adult forced to fight for her life alone, and the safeguarding board don't understand why contact from that Bishop is wrong, distressing and a serious safeguarding issue! Especially as that Bishop has continued to harm me and mislead the press despite the court order!  A meeting is not an option while the safeguarding board fail to protect me or even genuinely acknowledge or action my complaints. They have the evidence, it is extremely prolific and available widely.

This letter is sent cc the National Safeguarding Board of the Church of England, who by now, will have had to inform the Archbishop that a serious formal complaint with evidence has been made against him and the church, they are thus obliged also to ensure that while he is under investigation and while the Church are under investigation for hundreds, even thousands of sexual assaults, the Archbishop ceases to harm their victims by abusing the press, especially abusing the press to harm one of their victims.
Also, Jane Dodds and Graham Tilby, please make sure the Archbishop's breach of Church laws in interfering publicly in the Europe vote is referred to the correct department and that he is disciplined. In the end, someone is going to view the records of your action or inaction.

Interestingly the scorn of the Archbishop on social media brought up another of his press spin matters, his pretence that he was going to house migrants at Lambeth Palace - what - as  slaves?  The Church of England have a secret apartheid policy against the vulnerable, the vulnerable are not welcome on church property, this hurts and isolates the vulnerable and I have suffered it and been injured by it, secretly excluded. isn't it time the Church of England were policed instead of being the dictatorship in our democracy? The Safeguarding Board have failed for many years to answer me about this apartheid, which undoubtedly increases abuse but is there for the Church's insurance purposes. Do you know they even dismiss clergy who become vulnerable through illness or injury? Several have contacted me about this.

The Church of England was founded on adultery and has never improved on that, and it has no place in society any more, especially not as a lawless dictatorship that no-one challenges. The Daily Mail, Telegraph and BBC especially should be ashamed to keep publishing Justin Welby's advertisements without any censorship or thought for his victims.

Thank you for reading this. This will now be published online. Most vulnerable people and survivors are voiceless, I am nearly voiceless, but I can write, and through my writing, I speak for the voiceless vulnerable and survivors if they would like my voice to be heard as theirs.


Friday, 10 June 2016

Thank you to a special friend

A few weeks before my friend's death, when she was too weak to walk unaided and so tired she slept most of the time, she was still telling me that if she could help me in any way, she would.

The Bishop Shuts up

It was a great day when the Bishop shut up
but hard work to get him so to do

It took a canon-law gun a lot of strong men
and a giant bolus of chewing gum and superglue


Well done, Bob
I knew you could do it
so did the people at the hospital chapel
now, don't start that human rights stuff again
don't take any notice of the insane archbishop and his duplicious lies
just relax and be with your family
All that matters is you
you nearly lost your life defending mine
silly man, my life isn't worth anything
yours is.

Image result for picture of a candle

Friday, 3 June 2016

Farewell Florence

There was still light back then
When the patter of norty wheels was first heard
back then Bob could speak, and he did,  much to my annoyance
and my friend was alive and happy

I remember the sunlight and the green garden
my friend smiling when I hesitantly told her
'...well, there's this car...'
What time? She asked, she never once disapproved of my ideas

She didn't need to be disapproving or cautious, she let me be me which is wisdom
and so that evening we went, and we met Florence
I knew when I saw Florence
That this wasn't 'a car' this was Love, she was the only car we saw

I also knew that she was very old
older than Anna had been in the end in Jersey
but I  knew that to have lived to see this day
to drive again, was incredible beyond belief

My friend and I went for a drive after meeting Florence
and we talked and drove, and it was nice
And a few days later, we went to collect her
Florence grinned smugly, of course she had known we'd be back

We drove home through that sunny evening
and although driving again awoke the trauma 
it was like being alive again
I was all nerves despite my refresher lessons

Then, guess what our Flo did?
She broke down two days later! 
Haha, what a nightmare! 
What a girl! But she gave me back my confidence in driving

Yeah, she's old, she occasionally blows a gasket
Thankfully we always got her running again
a certain person says she does it deliberately
but I think her driver is secretly a girl racer

We've had a good year, me and Florence
and sometimes she is Anna, and we've been together forever
blur the edges, change the memory
the words that saved my life and brought me here

The winter never ended this time
the sunlight of last summer went
and Bob fell and my friend died
and the sunlight went, darkness eternal
no more hope
no reason to fight the evil destroyers who won

Now Florence is also going
and all I want to do is drive
endless smooth quiet driving
the last dance before she spins away into the dark with the others
and I am alone, waiting for my turn to go too

Wednesday, 1 June 2016

Adrian Lynch/Damien Nettles, similarities strike again

Many people are asking for this post, presumably because of the documentary.
I know that it must be hard for the family because of having to go through it again, but I am glad to hear that they found the documentary helpful, My thoughts are with them.

Two Islands, two young men missing, they look alike.
Two anonymous 'local' businessmen on two islands...
both offered a 10k reward.

Excuse me for breaking the new rules but I am not in Jersey.
Shouldn't the police be looking at what boats these businessment drive?
No offence meant.