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:

Sunday, 3 June 2018

Welsh legs

Morning peeps,

I have a wee cough. a wee cough, gettit? Must be this tonsillitis that is still plaguing me since I saw the dental hygenist, I get real bad tonsils because the NHS never did anything about them, I thought it was getting better yesterday, I keep treating it, but it has gone angry again.

Well I was all sorted and packed, struggled to get to sleep, was dreaming sad dreams when I woke with the first alarm at 6am. My landlord was already busy in the garden, he gets up at 5.

I got breakfasted and showered and off we went, he didn't just drop me in town, he dropped me at the travel terminal, which was great, saved lugging me luggage onto the bus and finding fares for old grumpy or Andrew. Ha, you got a mention, Andrew, shout me when it's next Pizza Night!

I was in plenty of time at the terminal, the sea was shining as I wandered along the walk.
We were in time leaving, but not coming in, I had missed the connection by three minutes.
I am camping happily in an old favourite cafe of mine, with strong coffee and my computer, while I wait for the next connection in just over an hour, I don't mind too much. My ticket is flexible.

Next stop isn't actually Wales, I arrive there tonight, but I made it this far, which is good. I am several hours from home now and I worry about Max and Rebecca being good while I am away. Will they be good? Will the crazy neighbours spray Max with gravel while they do mad reversing and turning?

What will happen? Will I ever make it home? This world away from home is very big and full of people and cars and things, where do they all come from? What if I get lost? Why are people smoking when it hurts my lungs?  Who am I? Where am I? What's my name? I'm P. Bailhache, reading documents on a plane!

Tonight my mystery stop en-route will be revealed and hopefully pictures as well.

No comments:

Post a Comment

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