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.

No comments:

Post a Comment