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, 28 February 2017


Good evening peeps,

Our dear old channel islands are to be freed today.

I will tell you two things about cars, peeps, one is that they are expensive little sods, and the other is, if you think something is wrong with your car, act upon it, you know your car best.

Max has just cost me quite a lot of money, but he is safe to drive.

The car's best friend couldn't find anything when he did the initial test drive, and then he went through everything, and it was finally he really found the fault!
And it was an expensive sodding fault. But at least I had got Max in promptly, because Max could have caused an accident if I had ignored the problem.
But we learned from what happened with Florence.

The other year, Florence was all hot and huffy, and I nipped her round to the car's best friend, 'ah, she's alright. you are fussing over nothing!' he said.
Florence blew her head gasket a few days later.

So this time I knew there was something wrong and neither of us doubted it, although it took some time to locate the fault, but if it had been left, Max would be dangerous.

Anyway, so suddenly I was facing quite a bill for Max, the car's best friend is a very honest mechanic but this repair took a lot of time and parts. So as well as the Max bill, I had the rent due.
I had to ask someone for a sub.

So last night I went to collect Max, wind, rain and cold. The car's best friend texted me as I walked, and he offered to collect me, so I stopped and was collected.

Max is safe home. Little so and so, but he isn't deliberately norty like Florence, so I forgive him.

The rent and the car bill is paid, and I have managed to get some toiletries and waterproofs. Life in poverty is hard work sometimes but there are bright days when there is food and toiletries and cups of tea.

Anyway, so this morning me and my workmate set off back to the day's work we had to abandon yesterday. We had a good day, although I am worried that even the struggle to get the mower started after the winter may have an impact on me, in the pain sense, by tomorrrow. Plus the vibration of the mower when my system has forgotten it.
However, despite the grass being long and wet, it came up nicely all round, which was good.
The day was mainly mowing and strimming, with a bit of clearing and transplanting.
So the grass cutting season has started!
Although the wind was strong and cold, it wasn't affecting us on the seafront, for once! It must have been an offshore wind and we had the buildings to block it.

The rain came in at about 3pm but we got all the mowing done.

I got home in time to go to the shops for food and a new pair of cheap waterproofs.
Now all I need is new trousers and boots/shoes, and a haircut and a new backpack too. Life gets very threadbare and scruffy at times.

Tomorrow I will go and do pressure washing, at last, not that I enjoy it, but it will earn some money. And in the evening I am going out for DVD night, I hope they have picked something decent to watch! I didn't enjoy that cinema trip the other week, but maybe no-one knew how crap Lala Land was.

Those who wonder, yes I have had to give up music for now, I can't try to juggle work, study, fighting for my life against the Church of England and keeping a roof over my head, it is a bit too much and I got too tired.

A toast

'And our dear Channel Islands are to be freed today...' Winston Churchill May 8th 1946.

'And out Queer Channel Islands are to be freed today...' JJ. Nortyperson February 28th 2017.

Here's to the Queer Old Dean!

Monday, 27 February 2017


Good morning peeps,

We have that universal swearword 'Rained off' today.

So unfair when I need the money so much.

I went to hitch a lift with my workmate in the van and we headed to get the mowers from the lockup as we aimed to start the mowing season today, the forecast was bad, and I had texted and emailed last night to make sure we were going ahead. It had been decided we would be optimistic, but once we got the mowers, the torrential rain started.
We waited in the van for some time, with the water leaking in :( and decided we were rained off. It is still raining and I am home, having had a shower and some tea and toast, trying to focus on manuscripts, while my workmate and the boss have a little bit of woodwork in the workshop and dropping the ride on mower off for repair.

We are going to do tomorrow for today's work, which pushes my work tomorrow onto Wednesday, far from ideal when the rent is due and the car is going to cost whatever to repair, plus the insurance is due this week.

So, what has happened the weekend? Well I was going to work the day on Saturday, it was still windy on the cliff top but nothing like as bad as Thursday, so I spent the morning up there. But by afternoon I was so tired and fed up that I didn't work the afternoon, I came home and watched DVDs.

On Sunday I just couldn't help it, I went to my foster church. They were suitably impressed that I was overriding my church allowance for the month, and I was invited to a DVD film night.
Church was as good as usual.

We decided something. I can go to church if I want to most weeks, the services is an hour and I only get flashbacks and distress for about 10 or 15 minutes during that, and not severe and I don't go away distressed, and seeing as Fisher has stopped slandering me to churches and I have answered back the church spreading slander, I feel able to risk church. So the church is now long-term foster or adoptive church. I know there is still a risk of the Church of England and their police, but I may as well take that risk. I met and got on well with a number of churches while I was homeless and on the run from Fisher and her authorities. I have to build on achievement and hope, including the hope that I can have some sort of relationship with God again eventually.

Anyway, so that is that. At home I cooked chicken and potatoes and rice for several meals, and tidied my room and prepared for the working week and even had a quick look at manuscripts.

Then I reluctantly removed my tools and things from Max and drove him to the Car's Best Friend.
I left Max outside and dropped the keys through the letter box and made my way back on foot.

The roads up there are pitch black and pot holed and the wind was howling. I walked carefully along the hill as the lights of town shone below, and then I was back on the lit road down to town, it was a quiet walk, I didn't see anyone. It was nice to be out walking. My agrophobia has been bad since the church and police attacks last year and I don't go walking for the sake of it, but the evening is a nice time for a walk and I didn't get stressed.

By the time I had got home, the car's best friend had already taken Max for a short spin and hadn't been able to identify the problems yet.

I haven't heard from him yet, I will have to walk through the pouring rain to collect Max, but I hope that will be soon as I have to go and meet a potential new customer out on a farm and assess the work.
Max is likely to only be assessed today so I hope he is safe to drive.

I guess the rest of my day is about manuscripts. I got tired because the intensity of my production of books has been very high and so it is hard to find the energy to work on the more mundane books now after 'Destruction', 'Very Cuttings' and 'The Churchwarden'.

Friday, 24 February 2017


Hey peeps,

Sorry I don't write much any more.
What has happened to me with the church and the press and the police has destroyed me, and I sit  waiting to die a lot of the time.
You remember when my blog was all life? When I was homeless and then when I was rebuilding my life? I have no idea why the Church needed to destroy me the way they did, but they succeeded. I am done for.

Anyway. I went to work today, mowed a lawn that was too long to leave, did a lot of cutting back, filled two ton bags, suffered nettles and brambles, fell over while breaking up a tree branch, and broke the zip on my trousers. Typical.

I don't have much to do once I get home, so I had a shower and supper and not much else, just staring at the meaningless computer.

I am working tomorrow, I need the money with the rent due and Max costing whatever to be repaired.

Thursday, 23 February 2017


Hey peeps,

The blogs have been statting a bit. Max is being repaired due to a few things going wrong.

The wind has been dangerously strong due to being strong wind, which is does sometimes, so I couldn't work on the cliff top today.

I am a bit sick with pain but I can't afford treatment this week, so I am on meds.

Gavin Ashenden is attracting attention so my blogs are statting up.

We have had a leak and things here, so the landlords have been in and I talked to them a bit about various things.

Wednesday, 22 February 2017


Morning peeps,

The blogs are statting up, what has happened? Or is it just Ashenden ranting again? Haha, he needs psychosexual therapist, because he is a psycho with sexuality issues.

Yesterday I had a quiet day as I was tired. I went out for a drive, the sea waved thoughtfully without any tremendous effort and the clouds hung over the hills.

I made a dentist appointment as my gum still infects, I think it is the tooth root, I put TCP on it but it doesn't get better.

I tidied my room and did the washing and things. Nothing much else.

Monday, 20 February 2017


Good evening peeps,

I am very tired and I meant to go to bed hours ago, I have changed my plans for tomorrow because I decided I was and am too tired and I need more recovery from last week's trip, it has left me very tired and on meds all the time.

I have had a long day as well. I was up at 5am finishing an assignment. By 7.30 it was done and I was off to work. Work doesn't start till 8.30 but on the estate I get there early to get a parking space, and I don't mind. I tend to get a hot drink and perhaps breakfast there.

It was a long hard day but productive. We had the boss working with us today as we have lost our trainee.  The boss and my workmate worked together on the upper estate and I worked alone on the lower estate, it all went well but we were all tired when we finished, or rather just seized up from hard work and had to stop.

I got home just after 5pm and it was still light, I did chicken and rice, showered, and because my assignment is in and I have cancelled tomorrow and the prep that it needed, I have kind of relaxed and watched Buffy DVDs.

The Ashenden stats are up again, he has done another homophobic blog.

This song is for Chichester, I am getting smoke signals from Chichester but I don't know what to do or how to help, except to say ' I am here, don't give up'.
Here you go, you remember?

Bloody Chichester. The most pointless town in the UK apart from Milton Keynes. The blue bike got a puncture in Chichester the other summer, 2015, when I vitally needed it, however, I did enjoy sleeping out under the city wall on that beautiful summer night, so it isn't all bad.

Sunday, 19 February 2017


Hey peeps,

Well someone from Winchester wants an update and they will keep landing hopefully on the blog until I meet their needs by confessing all.

Not much to say, I am tired and in pain.

I went to my foster church this morning and that was the same as ever. Good old foster church.

Then I came home and have been working on an assignment that is due in.

I did a roast dinner and have sorted out tomorrow's lunch as well.

The weather is grey and mild and I am working on the estate tomorrow.

Hey Winchester, have this, share my memory and grief: 

Saturday, 18 February 2017


Hey peeps,

A sociable day here and glorious weather.

The Jersey Press and media are shouting about the Dean's indolence and the empty words of his powerful friends. I wonder, I think the Dean needs a present.
I sent one to the Archbishop once because he had never seen one either. A Bible.

Anyway. I got a text while I was trying to remember what clothes to put on this morning, someone inviting me for coffee, so we had coffee and chatted, and then we went and borrowed the bookshop for a good nose through the books.

I will write this before I forget it. It was a paragraph in a book.

The haughty lady told the down to earth lady to go away 'because she didn't fraternize with her inferiors'.
'Wow' said the down to earth lady 'How did you find any inferiors?'


Anyway. Then I came home to get Max as I had a meeting to go to, a very sociable meeting.

After the sociable meeting I went to the supermarket and down to the sea. It was so beautiful down the sea, but it is half term for some people, so it was busy.

Then I came home, tired, a bit unwell, I had some meds and a shower and got on with some paperwork and then watching DVDs.

My neighbour has been baking cakes again, and feeding me cake, she is hot on baking and making sure everyone eats cake.

Max had his wash yesterday, so one less thing to do. And tomorrow is my weekend for going to my foster church.

On the other blog, a long-lost statistic has returned, Jane Fisher. Hello Jane, I hear you did the same with Winchester College as you did with my case, covered up at my expense? I am not actually writing about it on my blogs though but you are a terrible person.

I am still not fully recovered from my trip on Tuesday, I get sick much more and too easily at the moment.

Oh, someone fell over earlier. I don't agree entirely with my old psychology teacher about human nature but a lot of teenagers stood around when this man fell over in front of them, while I ran across the road to help him. Three of us helped him, and he was OK. It always affects me when I help people up, because it means physical contact and strangeness, but I can't not help if things happen like that. People are very important.

Friday, 17 February 2017

Someone from Jersey checking both blogs to see if I knew about the criminal departing Dean of Jersey being lauded and glorified.
Yes, but why should I write about it at the moment? There are more interesting ways of responding.

The Bishop of Winchester is hiding up Luther-Pendragon's butthole again at the moment by the way. Why is that? Because of the Winchester College safeguarding failure for which he is responsible? Probably, he tends to hide up other people's buttholes when his safeguarding failures are exposed.


Good morning peeps,

I am sitting at my favourite cafe on the cliffs with a pot of tea. The sea is grey and unremarkable, with a haze of pollution over it. But the fishing boats are out, so it can't be that bad.

I slept well with codiene and 5HTP to help. I woke well and put the bed linens in the wash, washed up and put the rubbish out.

At the moment, as a result of my trip on Tuesday, I have terrible flashbacks to the way Jane Fisher slandered me and used my abusers against me to make me out to be a troublemaker, how terrible.

I am not really in pain any more, just exhausted, defeated, waiting for the end.

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Hey peeps,

I decided I have to give up music.
I am so ill so much and I don't believe I have long left at the hands of the Church of England. I am in too much pain and struggling to focus. What would be the point of a degree when I am so badly branded that nothing is of worth anyway?


There's a time, there's a time,
Time for summer and for snow,
Time for love to grow,
And to end in lonely tears

There's a place I adore
That I fear I'll see no more
I will see no more
Though I live for a hundred years

There's a time for losing all you won
And a time for traveling on
But the hurt in my heart,
It goes on from day to day,
Will not go away,
Keeps on longing for what's gone

There's a time, there's a time
When a love is young and new
Heaven's painted blue
When we lay in the summer grass

For a time, for a time,
You were so in love with me
So, how was I to see
That the summer would pass?

Now, you ride the ocean, chase the stars
Underneath some far-away sky
And the hurt in my heart
Knows you're never coming home,
Never coming home
Till the day the sea runs dry

In my dreams, in my dreams,
You have left yourself behind
You caress my mind
When the nights grow dark and chill

Vagabond, vagabond
Always traveling beyond,
Where's the magic wand
That will bring you nearer still?

There's a time for holding to your dreams
And a time for starting anew
But the hurt in my heart,
It goes on from day to day,
Never goes away
For it's all I have left of you

Copyright Nana Mouskouri  - There's a Time


Hey peeps,

I am not on codeine but I am still not well.

I guess I didn't expect anything else. I can't travel like that and do things like that without getting sick.

I am trying to work out what to do, because I am pretty sure I want to leave my foster town but I am tired and my life is running low, I can't remember where I want to go. I guess I have to wait for these feelings and emotions to settle a bit. At the moment I am still on this Littleton song, grief takes time but once it starts it is quite powerful

Nothing is good at the moment.

Wednesday, 15 February 2017


Hey peeps,

It would be nice to think I could stop living in fear and be me. Be my real name in public.
But to be honest, I am pretty sure that the church and their press are about to kill me with the next press and media onslaught. So maybe I shouldn't sign my real name yet 😉 Although it isn't quite the shamed and branded name I had.

My post about yesterday wasn't quite as clear as I would like. But I am on codeine. I couldn't do the clearance work today, yesterday's journey left me ill, and I thought I would be alright as I wasn't in as much pain as usual, but I wasn't alright really, so I came home, had codeine and after writing that post, I went to bed. It rained anyway, so I don't know how much they got done.

I woke up an hour ago. So it hasn't been much of a day. A non-day. I did ask earlier in the week if  we could move today's work to later in the week, but it wasn't moveable. I knew it wouldn't be easy to work after a day like yesterday. Well at least I know more about why I get sick from travelling these days. The movement of travel affects my joints, puts too much stress on them.

I sit here listening to the 'Goodbye Littleton' song on repeat, it is hard to let go, because what I lost was irreplaceable.

I should shower and do a meal, but I don't feel like it. I don't feel so ill but I don't want to do anything.

It was nice getting Valentines flowers, although they were on twitter. Much easier to look after twitter flowers, I can't bump the vase and knock them over. Twitter valentines were nice and sweet, I don't usually notice valentines day.

6th Anniversary This Last Great Journey Home

14/02/2011-14/02/2017 Six years. Where you see youtube links in this post, they are the usual appropriate soundtrack songs for parts of my life.

It would be so tempting to make something up and pretend I haven't just done as I have just done, and it may be a while before the Great Grim Church realise the full extent of what I have just done.
And that is just for starters you b*stards. Sampson pushed the pillars down with the last of his strength. Let's see if I can do the same.

Even if the next church press and media attack in two weeks time kills me. It won't be over.

Anyway, I didn't intend to open this post on that note at all.

14/02/2011-14/02/2017. Six Years.

My alarm went off at 4am. I was tired, I had been so tense that I didn't get to sleep until midnight, and that isn't enough sleep for me, especially not on a day like today.

I was lucky with the weather, after freezing gales yesterday, today was mild, cloudy, unremarkable.

Max already had boxes, clothes, backpack etc. He opened a sleepy eye and said 'Hurry up then girl!' You can imagine if that was Florence, she would have snorted and huffed and Hated the Idea!

It was 4.40am as we set off for the first leg of the journey.

We did good time though, and I looked back at the lights of my foster town against the darkness, afraid as always that I would not see it again, that it would be ripped from me as so much has been ripped from me in the past. Holding the hand of my foster town in my heart.

At 5am we reached the second leg, Max was in a line of three similar cars as we waited.

And then it was time for a sausage sandwich and a coffee. What an early time to eat things, I am sure it is illegal.

The next leg is an hour. But at last the lights come into sight, the lights of love. Southampton, the city of my childhood, eternally beloved. When I see Southampton, long forgotten things such as smiles and joy return.

Last night the moon was huge and bright outside, but now it is muted by cloud and heading west.

The lights of Southampton, the golden sodium lights of the docks, the red lights of the flight path guides, the blue life-lights of the Itchen Toll Bridge.
Did you know you can't commit suicide on the Itchen Toll Bridge because it has life lights and Samaritans phones all the way along? People used to jump off there a lot before.

Beautiful Southampton, but now it is 6.30am and the traffic is already bad, it takes a while to get through.

We reach the last leg of the journey. The motorways, and Max pulls anxiously, he is not used to this, the speed, the huge lorries, I forget, we don't usually do this kind of thing, I still remember motorways but Max doesn't understand. I explain that this is a fast road with big lorries.
But before long the speed is gone, traffic is crawling from before the services right up to the M3 junction. Ha.

We crawl, while the radio cheerfully tells us all about the traffic.
There is an accident on the side of the motorway and not serious but it is making the commuter traffic worse. We get past it and pick up speed a bit, but as we go onto the M3 and it begins to get light, all I can see is three lanes of brake lights, damn we have already lost time and I fear for my safety if we don't start quickly.

We turn off above Eastligh and head over towards Compton, Otterbourne and Shawford, and at least I know and I remember this. I don't want to get caught on Romsey road by the traffic so we come down through Shawford.

The lights of Winchester are ahead.

Winchester. Six years.

Traffic is not bad coming into Winchester, which surprises me, I know it is only 7.30 but Winchester was awful for traffic in my memory, and considering how bad Southampton had been at 6.30, I was pleasantly surprised.

I took the wrong turn first, haha. Second time lucky, and more lucky, we got a parking space up along the wall, free for a half hour. Which is a good start.

The boxes are divided up into six runs, and in an ideal world I would have started the other side of Winchester and earlier, but I have to do the most dangerous parts as soon as possible.

At Wolvsley I say prayers for the Dakins and Scott-Joynts as I stop there, before I walk back a little way for the next drop.

The Cathedral is the next stop. And I remember Philip as I walk through the quiet Cathedral. I guess he isn't here anymore. I don't join the communion, I watch the well heeled old people absolving themselves of guilt, and then I say some more prayers. Laying to rest the terrible things that happened to take my home town from me. I don't normally do as my adoptive parents have taught me and pray to saints. But here I pray to St. Swithun about the Dakins and my home town.

I walk away from the Cathedral, remembering the youth events there, when we were young and life was more hopeful. The Winchester I remember, where the sun always shone.

There is one more stop on this run before I go, and now I have to work out how to re-arrange the runs.

Max and I manage to turn around alongside the wall and get out onto Southgate Street, and again the traffic is still relatively light, we head round Jewry Street and onto North Walls.

Again we are in luck, we get a 30 minute parking space.

This is the hard part.

I walk over to the building site.

Six years. 2011-2017.

She screams in terror as they throw her about, dragging her by the scruff of the neck so that her clothes are ridden up and her body exposed, no dignity, and there is no excuse for this, none at all.

I stand there, the building, the cars, everything that was there, is gone, but the injury remains, until my dying day.
I stand and pray quietly.

I walk down to Bradbury House, and again I say prayers, before I turn and walk back up, Lower Brook Street, Holy Trinity, Hope Church, the Salvation Army, the Winchester Centre, the URC, the Catholic Church, the Baptist Church.

I stop for a strong coffee, ground by a cheerful man in a Winchester Style coffee shop, I am tired already and my original routes are still confused.

I drive up to Bar End.
A police car comes around.
What already?
But no, they aren't after me. The Angry Destroying Spirit of Jane Fisher has gone from my Winchester, and Winchester sleeps quiet, peaceful now.

I head for Kings Worthy, but my memory won't tell, I have trouble finding them in Kings Worthy. You who are blessed for what you did as the condemnation and slander could have stood between us, but you are Christians.

Then the part of the journey that I least want to make.

Hush, we sleep, we dream
and before us the golden summers rise
a hundred show days, hundreds of beautiful Sundays
friendship, laughter and sunshine in our village

We are beyond the darkness, pure
We were never taken from you
We who sleep here and dream 
of Littleton as it was when were were here with you

The evil never reached us, we are to you as we were
We sleep here, remembering prayer and praise
and a thousand happy days 
in Littleton as it was then

The daffodils and snowdrops are gleaming
on the road by the church
the laughter of congregants in the sunshine
as we share fellowship and coffee

The show, the benefice services at Northwood Park
The walks, the parties, the events,
We know, you know, what we had here was special,
of a time that is no more, humanity is too fast for love now,

So we rest peaceful now, and together we share the memories.
as you come to remember, to grieve, and to say goodbye,
And we remember with you as you realize,
this was the family you never had, and you knew it all along, 

Hold on the the memories, you who have also gone,
Whose name is no longer known here, also dead, 
Death and grief take many forms,
but the memories, your and ours, are for you, forever.

Your soul holds Littleton forever, but you haven't chosen to join us,
except in dreams,
In the land where it is show day forever, and everyone is there,
you go on, fly above Littleton in your dreams, but never come home,
To see your engraving among our engravings: 'Best in Show'.

Hush, we sleep here, in the golden dream,
and the poorest of our sisters,
flies above Littleton
to a life that we could never imagine.

When I was fighting for my life on the streets, as Jane Fisher destroyed me, I couldn't grieve, I had to keep myself alive. I couldn't grieve for those of mine who are in that churchyard. But I went back, and remembered, and grieved, and said goodbye. Those who don't understand the 'Best in Show' reference, that isn't arrogance, those of mine in Littleton know what it means and that is all that matters.

Thankfully there have been less deaths since I left, I didn't recognize many names. While I was in that community, so many that I knew, died, and for me it was hard because my parents had brought me up with death being a terrible taboo awful thing that 'couldn't happen to us' and those around us.
But I know many names in that churchyard.

There is a pink hyacinth on Anne's grave, just blooming. I did as my adoptive parents taught me and crossed myself and prayed for Anne's soul. She died estranged from me by Jane Fisher, and Fisher wanted to keep me away from the funeral so that my abuser could be there in peace, and Anne didn't like my abuser, who was there for the company anyway not the funeral, he used to leech onto funerals and weddings and baptisms. He was no friend of Anne's.

And then Fisher had me beaten up and imprisoned just after the funeral. 14/02/2011.
Anne was my friend for a decade along with the rest of them.
I used to call them the 'Scooby-gang' but Margaret Fowkes thought she was part of the Scoobies. I guess she could be Cordelia! Haha.

Anyway, I said goodbye to Anne and told her I would be back later. 'You will always be with me Anne, one of my middle names is your name, in your honour'.

'I know'.

I finished Littleton. I stopped at the rec. I said goodbye and a blessing. Hundreds of dog walks, hundreds of events at the hall, helping out, helping out, washing up, waitressing, cleaning, setting up, packing up.
And of course it is show day, and everyone is there.
The poison and slander can't take the reality of what was.

Do you remember my dream about Littleton last week? It was show day and everyone was there? One of the people I mentioned was one of those headstone is new in the Churchyard since 2011.


Will you guard, will you keep, will you watch over these?

There is only one more person to rest here that I really remember,
Tony died in 2010 while I was estranged, but Tricia has died since.
I say goodbye to them and thank them for being kind and inclusive.

Winchester 10.30am.
The car park is full, nowhere to park, but a man comes up to my car and hands me a ticket with two hours still on it and tells me he is just going and I can have his parking space. How wonderful.

In Winchester I try to bring the confused threads of the six runs together.

I don't have much time so I finish printing some letters.

Then I walk up the hill, it is as steep as ever for someone with a heavy bag and low lung capacity.

14/02/2011 - 14/02/2017

I walk into Winchester Police Station.

This Last Great Journey Home.


I stop at that little petrol station, I remember stopping there with Anna so many times.It is a family business and I like to give them custom, they are nice.
I said I would be there for 1.30 but I am running late now.

As I drive I remember again how beautiful Hampshire is, how that beauty sustained me when I escaped from my family in a terrible state, chased by threats and terrible prophecies from my mother.
Hampshire is as stunning and stark in the winter as it has always been, and being separated from it is sad, but at least I can visit.

I get there and am lucky in getting Max a corner space.

I get to where we are meeting in good time. She doesn't see me, and I have little Patrick with me, so I get him to ambush her. Haha.

We go to our favourite cafe for lunch. It is as good as ever, the big pot of tea, the tasty food.

After that we go to the post office. One of the six runs is entirely postal.

Then there's the bit she doesn't want to do, neither do I, but I would rather she was with me, it is mainly symbolic.

The Abbey, the Same as the Cathedral, is a symbol of human greed and arrogance and going against God's Word to use His House for profit despite Jesus' lesson.

We walk in there. The stewards come over as usual, and I tell them I am here to pray and I know where to go.

We walk up there and I put Little Patrick on the pillar and I tell her what this symbolizes, what Jax Machin did.

We go over to the prayer area and I tell her about it, and then I say prayers and light candles.

We have two last tasks before I show her the book 'Destruction' and she likes the poetry and the pictures in it.

Then it is time to say goodbye for now.

I head back to Winchester.

In Winchester I have seen maybe five people who recognized me, maybe a few more, but they don't mean anything to me. Winchester, my foundation and my home city, doesn't mean to me what it used to. I moved on and grew, and those who were with me there are gone. It will always have meaning to me, that is inevitable, But this Last Great Journey Home will hopefully bring some closure and peace, so that I can fly beyond the bad memories and only remember the good.

Winchester 5.30, the tasks are all but over, a few very tricky drops to do. I want to do as I told Anne I would do, but I can hear her voice in my memory 'You are tired and running out of time, there will be another time to do this'. And as usual this is wisdom. I must go, traffic is bad and I am tired.

Goodnight Winchester, my home city. You and I know what I just did. Like the German Shepherd Dog in I am David who jumped in front of the guns. I want my enemies to kill me because the injuries I carry from them are too bad. But I got to say goodbye at least.

The darkness and the glowing lights go on and on, until my foster town comes into sight hours later, and I get home and sleep without dreams.
But I am there, I know, every glorious show day, and everyone is there. Show day starts at 4am, we are setting up and there is so much to do, and then we have to go and get our exhibits, and then it is all about directing traffic, preparations, and then the show opens, and it is all about helping with tea and doing shifts on different stalls, and then someone shouts me to the tent.

'The Hampshire Chronicle wants to photo you! You've won best in show!'

You are all there with me, and will be for eternity.  Those of you who took part in the evil, I will remember you as you were.

Sleep, Littleton, and dream of the joy and wonder, the sunshine and show day, and we will all be there, forever, beyond the poison and evil. What poison and evil? It is show day, and everyone is here.

This was the real story, not the tale of evil that the church dreamed up to excuse the inexcusable crimes against me.

Winchester 2010/11 :

Littleton Now:

Sunday, 12 February 2017


This was supposed to post last night, I don't know why it didn't.

Good evening peeps,

My room is magically tidy, how did that happen then?

There are also clean clothes in a pile, and a work bag with lunch and drinks and goodies in it. Magic. And I appear to have been in the shower too.

There is a more serious undercurrent of time running short, but we shall see, peeps, I have tomorrow afternoon to try to get things up to speed. I am only working the half-day tomorrow. Winter working hours, but complicated as I have a complicated week ahead.

I have had a quiet day, but with a lot of paperwork. I haven't done much, went shopping briefly, and just paperwork.

If I wake early enough tomorrow, I may get this awful paperwork done, it has to be ready. Ready peeps? I am petrified.

I like my new pyjamas, I have real pyjamas, and they are comfy. I want to wear my pyjamas all day. I am all posh in pyjamas.

The second stalkerstat is not church of england, it's the police. The horrors who haunt my dreams.
Come and get me with your spit hoods and tazers, I have been waiting for so long for you to finish killing me.

Don't worry peeps, I am only joking. They will come and kill me when they are good and ready, they can't exactly leave the job unfinished...

It has been so cold, with light snow flurries. Cold. Tomorrow's work on the seafront will be cold. I start off doing the two small estates alone and join my team mate for the rest of the half-day, so it isn't too bad for me, he will have to endure the freezing wind more than me.

Saturday evening

Hey peeps,

All the stalkerstats have been lining up for an update.
Hello peeps, would you rather I called you 'very regulars' than stalkers? One of you is a Church of England regular. from Hampshire.

My eye needs medicine, do you remember on the streets I called it blanket eye? Unfortunately it became permanent and chronic and needs drops every few weeks.

Well today was a lazy start, very quiet, and I didn't have any bread for toast, so, bad habit at the weekends, I skipped breakfast and had lunch at lunchtime instead. I can get away with it if I am not too active, as my blood sugar mustn't drop too low, but it is a bad habit.

I was lucky today because the charity shop doing a closing down sale, where I got my new pyjamas, had a load of teeshirts going cheap, so I now have some renewed wardrobe. Sadly no trousers or shoes though, there was nothing suitable and I can't afford anything new.

I am wearing my new pyjamas, very comfy.

I got tired of the spit propaganda on twitter, the police openly lying about officers dying from being spat at, because the police want spit hoods.
The police are violent and brutal and dishonest and it is terrible that they have tazers and can kill the vulnerable that way, worse that they now want this new way to harm and humiliate the vulnerable.
So I am making a formal complaint to the police commissioner.

Saturday, 11 February 2017


Good morning peeps,

I thought I had better blog before the image of Jersey fades. It was a strange dream, it seemed to have a message about St. Lawrence and St. Matthews churches in Jersey, but I don't know what the message was.

What I do know is, there isn't a memorial garden there, as there was in the dream, and I wouldn't dream of going to either church if I was in Jersey, I don't support black magic or abuse. Has a memorial garden or some sort of garden been put in at St. Lawrence while I can't be bothered to wander over? Who cares, I do know this was a prophecy dream about the black magic church St. Matthews and St. Lawrence.

I didn't like being in Jersey in my dream, I was supposed to settle there in my dream, but there is too much water under the bridge, stupid expression.

Jersey is in my heart, I will keep it there. But live there? No thanks. What I want is something done so that St. Clements can be resolved, but who can do that and how?

Friday, 10 February 2017


Good evening,

Well. Last night I went to my music lesson and it was snowing lightly and I struggled with music. I can't think straight because Welby won't stop shitting out of his mouth onto church abuse victims because he is really desperate and scared about his abusive corporation being exposed.
Welby thinks he can use his Church-Mate, the prime minister, in his PR stunt about child migrants, when his church have caused hundreds of deaths through abuse.

Anyway, Welby will meet his maker eventually in hell, the more he shouts, the closer he gets to hell.

Anyway. The attempted snow has continued on and on, and it has been so cold, bitter cold with low grey skies.

So what have I been doing? Can't remember. Domestic stuff, work, everything but study in my study time, it is hard to study when the church are going to kill me.

I am just watching some Buffy before bed. It is funny to remember the control-freak Church of England people who controlled me tried to stop me watching Buffy and told me it was evil despite some of the stuff they watched being atrocious. I shouldn't have been duped into so many years of harm by the church but I had come from the background I came from and it isn't surprising.

Anyway. Am I doing anything remarkable regarding music, writing, work, anything? No. Just waiting to be killed by the church-press onslaught.

I am curious about the stalkerstat from Hampshire. The other one calmed down a lot but the Hampshire one is curious.

I got new pyjamas. Soft, comfy, cheap and without holes! Now the rest of my wardrobe and my shoes need to follow suit, I had to throw my day boots away as the sole of one split.
I am wearing comfy pyjamas. 😊

Thursday, 9 February 2017



It is freezing out there. They said the temperature would rise to 5 degrees if we were lucky, but the wind is a bitter east wind.

I went and worked for my old lady on the cliff top this morning, she said if she saw me freeze solid she would come and thaw me out. She brought me a big mug of hot coffee at some point as I weeded cheerfully to myself.

Now I am having lunchbreak in the library for a few more minutes.

I am a bit worried about the rush this evening to get home, get showered and fed and get to my music lesson, but I am sure it will be fine. I postponed Tuesday's lesson due to being on codeine.

Can you imagine a music lesson on codiene?
'JJ your composing is fine, but try writing it on the manuscript paper and not on the table!'

'Bloody G minor'
Double sharp on the leading note, stop writing on the table. x   my adoptive mum sends me texts in G minor.

JJ Motzartperson. The composer whose bass line is the sound of her neighbour's stir fry cooking.

This is a great way of not getting my assignment done.

Bye peeps.

Wednesday, 8 February 2017


Good evening peeps,

I am sitting looking at St. Catherine's breakwater in Jersey in the dark.
Yes I really am.

Anyway. When I woke nice and early this morning I was afraid to move in case I was in pain. But I didn't seem to be, none at all, no, I got up and no pain.
That's strange, because when it gets bad it doesn't usually go away so quick.

Anyway, at about 7am I set off for work, it was still a bit dark and I went down to the sea and watched it get light.

Then I went to work, it was cold and as usual I was shivering and trying to shake off the night time flashbacks, but once I got into my work I got on well. The man I was working for dropped home from his work to discuss the garden with me, to forge a plan, we had agreed to do that, so that was all good. Their house is a small mansion with lovely gardens but a lot of work and I am lucky to have got that job.

Anyway, at lunchtime I had a flying lunch as I headed to the afternoon's work at the care home some miles away.
It was getting very cold and drizzly for the afternoon and I worked hard and my arms ached.

Then I came home. The police were spouting bullshit about my complaint, and Justin Welby was farting out his mouth and glorifying himself, so I have got nothing at all done.
I have watched Self/less. I know why I like it, it reminds me of me and my story.

Anyway, so how come I am watching St. Catherine's breakwater in Jersey?
Well someone was keen for me to have a Jersey calendar and February on the calendar happens to be a picture of St. Catherine's breakwater in the dark.
Hah, it reminds me of that BBQ on the Ecrehous. Some fool forgot the soft drinks!

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Tuesday night

Hey peeps,

Codeine, strong stuff that I have a bit of a reaction to. But the best to deal with the pain when it really kicks off.
I just went to the shop and I felt way too woozy and vulnerable to be out. I mean I was fine but I don't like being out and about when I have had codeine, and I am hoping that I feel better tomorrow as I have to drive to work and I have two sites to work on and drive between.

I managed to fight the urge to go back to  bed today, and instead I studied quietly in the library.

It is cold outdoors, probably another frosty night.

Max is probably going in for repair next week.

I am going to have more codeine before bed and then I will sleep sound, I have been working hard to regain a proper sleep routine and it is beginning to work, I hope I don't sleep too deep and I hope the pain will be gone in the morning.

Tuesday morning

Good morning peeps,

It is way too early to be up on a study day. I wish that clearance job hadn't been postponed, I could do with the money after last week's rain.
I bet Max is a sheet of ice again after the rain and then the frost.

I slept wrong and my shoulder aches, so I had better do something before full blown pain kicks off.

I just ordered some cheap textbooks for my studies. Abe Books is good for cut price student stuff.

I don't know what will happen today, each day is still a day when the Church of England and their press may kill me, but I see someone is poking fun at Welby already and it isn't even light. I hope he gets the hint and resigns, even if he does love the money and the power.

Monday, 6 February 2017


Hey peeps,

This is some wintry weather.

This morning I woke very early because of that dream, and I got up then and showered and had breakfast.

Max was very frozen, his windows were sheets of ice inside and outside and he was white with hard frost.
At least I had plenty of time to de-ice him.

I got to work early, was thankful to find parking, and waited for the others, I expected my workmate to text and say that the van wouldn't start, but he didn't, he turned up in good time, it was the trainee who was absent, usually he is there, hunched over and shivering and moaning about the weather.
But he didn't turn up, we wondered if he had missed his bus, but he never turned up, I did the litterpick and we got on as normal, it turns out he has found other work, so there is just the two of us on the team for now.

It was bitter cold, my hands and face were cold, we just plodded on, and in the afternoon as I cheerfully wrestled brambles out of a Pittisporum, the boss turned up, so we had a walk round and talked to the boss, the sky clouded and it started to rain, and we finished the day with a bit of weeding.

I came home and had a hot shower but the evening has gone by in a dream, I am tired and it took time to warm up. I am watching Self/less again and not doing much else.

Tomorrow's garden clearance has been delayed due to the owner's illness, damn! I will have a study day.

A meaning of the word provincial...

An inhabitant of the regions outside the capital city of a country, especially when regarded as unsophisticated or narrow-minded.

Caroline Venables is provincial safeguarding person. 

"a town populated by money-grubbers, philistines, and self-satisfied provincials"

synonyms:(country) bumpkin


I think I should record this one before it goes.

It was quite fitting. The mind is a remarkable thing.

As I prepare for destruction, the dream spoke.

I dreamed it was show day, and everyone was there.

But even though it was show day, I knew, I felt, that something was wrong, I was out of place.

We were all waiting, of course, for the judging.

But we were all there, and I was being who I was, the multi-tasking helper.

Probably most clear in the dream for some reason were David and Pam Langton. David was limping, as he did, as they walked round arranging their exhibits.
Everyone else was there, the children were playing, and running in and out of the stalls.

At the end there was a kind of strange collective question about why I never came back, this was their thought not mine. My answer was that it was no place for me and I didn't belong. But I could feel my own grief, which rose above the reality of what actually happened, the way Jane Fisher and Juliet slandered me to the whole community.

The dream ended with Juliet trying to talk to me outside the hall. And it is funny that although I only dream of my estranged community rarely, the same lie jumps from dream to dream, about me trying to contact her since she left, I never have and never will, but anyway, in the dream this lie came up, and in the dream I am not even sure what she was saying but I was sobbing, and she wanted me to talk to her but I said I would end up killing myself if I did, and then I was worried about the church trick of setting the police on me because I had said that.

I turned away from Juliet, who was little more than a grinning ghost, but the grief as I left her and my old community was overwhelming, and I woke up.

The mind is a clever thing, it has just taken my thoughts and memories and what is about to happen and created that, and it is no bad thing. I never got to grieve for the life and community ripped from me by slander. I never got to grieve for show day and the real me that was taken by slander.
I never got to grieve for the sunlight and the joy of what was, and yet it has been gone and sleeping in that churchyard for many years now. Frozen in the dark and frosty grass, killed by my abusers.

Goodnight Littleton, it is time to lay you to rest.

Sunday, 5 February 2017


Hey peeps,

'The Girl and the Island' just got a nice review.

Well I am doing my best to overcome the depression, and the terror of the Church of England.

Yesterday I went out on the red bike, I felt quite vulnerable both from being on the bike and from being out in the open, my agrophobia returned with a vengeance when the Archbishop and Bishop destroyed me.

As I biked slowly alongside the rushing brook, I realised that there are some nice houses up there who might want a gardener. I have had a parcel of flyers made up for my gardening business in preparation for the new season, so I may go out and deliver those. I had better not do that too soon though otherwise people may save them for later and lose them.

Anyway, I got home last night and watched Self/less on DVD, I did feel better.

Today I haven't felt too bad really, despite everything.

I have been working through my task lists, which helps to stave off depression, and I keep watching self/less, which calms me down for some reason.

I have got plenty of stuff done, writing, other tasks, housework, washing Max, and I did  diced turkey with garlic and herbs and rice, I did enough for today's lunch and tomorrow's lunchbox. My lunch and everything for tomorrow is in the car and I am just watching Self/less again.

I am going to do some reviews now, because The Girl and the Island reviewed well. And then some studying.

Saturday, 4 February 2017

By the branches broke like bones


Good morning peeps,

Well at least I had some sleep.

And this morning there was some money in my account, so I managed to struggle through the Saturday crowds and shop for food.

I am still battling against depression.

Last night the gales blew things everywhere but the raging tides ebbed, leaving big puddles on the roads.
I went down to the sea last last night and tried to work out what to do, I feel like I am in a dead end, and I probably am. The Church of England don't like the fact that I survived to shriek at them.
Would you believe something? Lambeth Palace phoned me for the first time ever on Thursday evening, and probably the last because I screamed at them. Bastards. It is too late for them to even try to lie to me. I am done for, and their lies and pretences make sod all difference now, it is too late.

Anyway, today I have food and I am depressed. I don't have much money to spare for petrol for Max, so I am going to borrow the red bike, the blue bike's stable pony, and go for a bike ride while the sun shines.

Island home reviewed well again. But people keep trying to tell me to change the characters in Goodnight Anna, which isn't possible as they are real people.

Is everyone ready for the upcoming destruction?

Oh that reminds me. I am working on 'The Devil's Hole' which is on 46,000 words, and 'Destruction's Flame' on 2,300 words.

The Devil's Hole of course is the Jersey book alongside the churchwarden books, and Destruction's Flame is the three year leap from 'Destruction' and tells of Bishop Dakin's public attack on my life. Those of you who haven't kept up. Very Cuttings is already published.

I am not intending to promote the books today due to something that is about to happen.

Friday, 3 February 2017


Good Friday, peeps,

I am very depressed, but I am trying hard to get on with life. I am transcribing 'The Devil's Hole' The book that runs alongside the 'Churchwarden' books. It is a slightly different style to the Churchwarden book and 'Destruction' and it gives you a better glimpse of my life in Jersey.

The weather outside is wet and windy and I had a bad night so it has taken all day to get up, get showered and dressed and get something useful done. I have tidied my room, it looked like a bomb site, and I went and got the rubbish out of Max and I was going to wash him, but in this weather it would be silly, especially as he is parked in a massive puddle and I have no wellingtons.

I went and rescued our dustbins, which were cantering off up the road yelling 'You won't see me for dust!' They are subdued and safely in the garden now.

I did some sausages for lunch and did my meds, so I should be alright, it is nights and mornings which are hell.

Anyway, I had better get some work written and then I am off to writer's group tonight.

Thursday, 2 February 2017


Good evening peeps,

Well the Archbishop has been masturbating on abuse victims and doing his peacock show at their expense again, which has been profoundly traumatic for me, as it always is, not least because he and his filthy church have been asked to show some respect and decency and stop doing this, repeatedly.

Anyway, we went to see Lala Land last night, and as I said, I didn't enjoy it really.
It was quite disjointed and it didn't really have a strong plot or conclusion.
It starts off with people getting out of their cars in a traffic jam and dancing on the road, but that doesn't completely relate to the film.

The film is about an aspiring actress and a struggling musician. But it is too cliched.
There is simply nothing outstanding about it, the characters were nice enough and they weren't highly polished as some lead roles in some films are, but it was a long waste of an evening, which is a pity as I rarely go to the cinema these days.

Then today I had to deal with the man who destroyed me, Justin Welby, shooting his mouth off and beating himself off for publicity.

But I did publish 'Destruction'. It is already available to order.
If someone said to you that they had published 21 books, what would you think? Anything but the fact that they were publishing in order to be heard in death when their destroyers killed them despite years of cries for help.

The rain continues and the wind is galeforce and I can't get any work done, so money has been very low, and again, thank you to those who have helped me out.

These are the prayers from Destruction

From my new book 'Destruction' and very fitting for the renewed narcissism display by the Archbishop

I pray that each and every individual involved in harming me, clergy, laity and support services, have the grace to take responsibility for harming me and bow out of life where they have contact with other vulnerable adults who they may harm but who may not gain a voice through writing as I have. In the Name of Jesus. Amen
I pray that under a new Archbishop, and very soon, the Church turn from their narcissism and power-abusive control of the press and authorities and grant a full, independent and impartial investigation into my case, from the abuse that started when I was in my late teens and early 20s to the horrific cover-ups, press and media smears and million pound whitewash of more recent years.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen
I pray for all the people involved in harming me. I pray that they repent and learn to have a conscience. I thank You Lord that though I am shattered, destroyed, branded for life and dying, that I am not one of the people who have harmed me, for all their stability and good things in life and assurance of meals and a roof over their heads. I would rather be me and be destitute and alone.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen
Lord help and protect other victims who are voiceless in the face of the Church's Evil. I have only a small voice in my writing, but they have no voice, I speak for them.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen
Lord please forgive me whatever perceived evil that the Church and my old community hold against me to death, that they think I am worse than them in their unchristian condemnation of me and all their acts of evil and deceit in my case, although I carry all my shame and guilt as a heavy burden and even baptism, confession and repentance has not stopped these people from binding my sins back upon me until I fall under the weight of this cross.
Dear Lord and Father, please take from me the burden of the condemnation of me by the Winchester churches, community and Deanery on behalf of the Scott-Joynts, Dakins and Fisher. The condemnation has never been withdrawn nor has a single person shown impartiality or an ear for my side of things. Please bind the condemnation back upon those who condemned me and let me walk towards my grave free from it.
God please forgive me my sins and help those who condemned me to repent.
I ask all these things in Jesus' Name. Amen

Wednesday, 1 February 2017


Well Tuesday evening I went and had some good music coaching, and then when I came home the pain I was in went, and I got an upset stomach instead.

I slept but woke at 3am this morning. I couldn't sleep so I got on with the book.

Most of what I did Today was the book, while it rained and rained.

I also did the washing and ironing and went back to bed for a while.
I do not like sleeping during the day, I hate it, but I was due out to the cinema in the evening so I needed more sleep.

I went to the cinema. It was a bit of a let down. Apart from the prices, because we went as a group and got various discounts. But there was no hot sauce for the ice cream and the film was poor.
The film was Lala Land, and it wasn't brilliant, it is the first film I have been to see that I didn't want to buy the DVD for.

I will review it properly tomorrow.

The book is pretty much ready but I am too tired now, it will publish tomorrow.


·        I have no speech, no name. I live in the action of death. The blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction, absolute, alone. - Buffy the Vampire Slayer