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, 18 April 2018


Good evening peeps,

My arm hurts, the rest of me hurts, but not as bad as earlier.

Last night was a mad shift because the full time driver wrote his car off in a crash, so I hadn't done pain management between heavy gardening and a mad shift, and it is hardly surprising that I woke in pain in the night. But I slept again, and woke in the morning in some pain.

I had the farm first thing, so I headed for work, not looking forward to it, but I need to go on working as best I can.

When I got to the farm, the farm man was there to help me with the tractor, but he was on about me trying to stay in my temporary lodgings permanently and was on about how I should ask, he and his wife really care about my wellbeing, and although I like the lodgings well enough, I think the farm man is being a bit over-confident.

The tractor's battery was indeed flat, so the man took it to charge it and sent me to the petrol station to fill the jerrycan up with petrol.

So, time went on that, oh but I had fun, the petrol station is a few miles from the farm, and I had a lollypop in my car, so I stuck it in my mouth and went to fill the jerrycan, expecting the clerks at the petrol station to shout through the loudspeaker 'put that fag out!' but they didn't, they just grinned when I went to pay with a lolly in my mouth. The jerrycan is a big heavy one.

I got back and got on with the strimming, strimmed the other orchard, the verges the garden fences. Then without the tractor, I had to get the heavy push mower and mow, one orchard, the small grass areas near the greenhouse (no strimming there, it costs too much in windows!), and the areas round the veg patch. By this time it was coming up to 12 and I was in too much pain.

So I finished at 12, gobbled painkillers, let the farm know when I would be back to continue, and went down to the sea for lunch to see if I would feel better, but I felt worse.
So I called the next customer and postponed to next week, came home and went to bed.
It is bad being ill because of my work, I don't want to give up, but it is worse being ill just before the London run, I think you can imagine I am all in a tizz over that as usual. London. Ooh.

So, I stayed in bed the afternoon and tried to sleep, and had loads of fluids, painkillers, pain management and things. And got up this evening feeling better.
I have put my writer's hat and driver's hat on the shelf, and I have put my London hat on.
I did get calls earlier asking me to work driving, but they need to respect my boundaries, they took my work away at the end of January and left me destitute to give the work back to the full time driver, and now he has wrecked his car, they are asking me to work every day. Nope, Max is old and I am sick and disabled.

Anyway, I got my washing in, nipped out for some groceries, and am now just starting to pack for London. I am still aching, but not too much. The sudden hot weather hasn't helped, I don't do well with heat.

Oh guess what I am getting. I have the heavy machine for my neck, and have used it extensively, but today the pain is bone-deep, but I am getting a machine for my legs too, to hopefully help with the swelling in the joints.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.