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, 11 July 2018


Good morning peeps,

I still don't feel much like blogging, it is still way strange to type without my left hand.
Most of you will be aware that the Bishop of Winchester had me violently beaten  by police and imprisoned to try to silence me, and the result is loss of some of my hand, which is a shame because if I was to live, I am going to lose my legs eventually due to the broken spine, because the funding I needed to save my spine, has been taken, so I need both hands for a wheelchair :)


So, the situation is that I am homeless and with no choice but to remain that way  and as a complete fugitive this time, no friends, community or anything that will enable me to be found. The oppressive hot weather continues, although last night was surprisingly cold, I had to wake and find warmer apparel. As I write, the police have failed to communicate with me after the police attack described in the appendix of Cathy's blog.

I hope that you have seen Cathy Fox's blog.

But I have an unrecorded story to share, that may make you chuckle, although it was far from funny at the time, very serious indeed.


A week after the police attack, I was homeless. Literally sleeping rough. But none of my remaining clients for gardening would accept my resignation and all were trying to ignore and override it, which is both strange and callous, considering that I was ill, injured and homeless and not in any state to work. A good gardener who charges a low wage because of her disability is apparently rare, idiots. 

But as a result, I ended up in serious trouble with poison. 
It was the farm, refusing to accept that I wasn't in a position to work. I was there, working. It was a very sad time because not only was I going to override their determination to keep me on, but the poulty, ducks and geese were getting a disease that was killing them, and I was heartbroken. The farm, as you know, had been one of the lights of my life during the tough times, it had given me pride and responsibility and happiness. 

Anyway, a gardener of 17 years career, even if it was at an end, I knew my plants, but I was distracted and distressed, and I wiped the tears from my eyes, after cutting back a very toxic plant.
I am sure you can imagine what happened.

Only it didn't happen immediately. It was a bit later, when I got into town, I was trying to work out where to sleep when I realised that my sore and streaming eyes were not just caused by upset or hayfever, I could hardly open my eyes.

I wasn't sure what to do, although I remembered the time I got that wasp sting above my eye. So I went to the chemist, but they were too busy chatting and then they were just bumbling around and muttering about eye wash, and by now I was in agony. So I left.

I didn't know what to do, I was homeless and outcast, no one to turn to, everyone had turned away because of the police attack, and I hate asking for help.
In the end I collapsed on the steps of a Catholic Church. Haha. 
The Catholics got me water and tissues to bathe my eyes, and I think that really helped to save my eyes, I still didn't realise what I had got in them, or I would have gone straight to Casualty.
Then one old Catholic woman tried to 'Move me on', thinking I was a 'homeless', well I was, but she got the sermon of a lifetime from me, and I think she actually learned from it especially as I wrote to the priest the following day!
Ha. You know how it is. 
Anyway, the Catholic Server told me to try the other chemist, it was getting into evening now, so there was a late night chemist within walking distance, so I walked there, blind, opening or closing my eyes was agony. But I got there.

The chemists were at a loss, they gave me eye drops but they hadn't seen anything like this and didn't know what to do. They told me to go and bathe my eyes in the toilet and put drops in. I did, but it was agony.
I knew I had to go to casualty, even though I am terrified of the NHS and had only been in casualty a week earlier with the results of the police beating, and it was not only a weekend night but a very crazy one with a local festival bound to be supplying casualty with many drink and drug related emergencies.

I managed to walk blind to Casualty, about a mile and over the main road, God must have been looking after me.

Weekend and festival evening with casualty already doing brisk business, it is never the place for someone with autism, but now it was utter hell. 
The blurred shadows on the desk were too busy talking to turn and speak to me, so after a few minutes, I left. But I knew I was in serious trouble, so I went back in.

A paramedic came and spoke to me, random but at least someone did. I told him I was alone and had Aspergers and that I had got something in my eyes and they were agony.

He told me to hang on a few minutes and they would book me in.

Eventually they did, but I was cold and sick and they gave me a hat to be sick in, I am terrified of the hospital, so I was sick with fear. They repeated their stupidity of a few years ago, when I was there when Bob Hill collapsed, they read out the lies and inaccuracies. 

Hours went by, casualty was swamped, and they told me it might be six hours before I was seen. Yes, really. And I had realised what plant sap I had got in my eyes and I knew it was dangerous and the result could be blindness, God I was scared. I want to die because of the church and police, but being blind as well while they kill me, it doesn't bear thinking about.

The two casualty departments had a dialogue because of the effect of me waiting was not going to be good, they shunted the conversation up and down between them and made a decision to have me sent to another hospital.

I was nervous, had never been there, but I was greeted by the most happy nurse and receptionist, they got me water to drink and made me stay awake, the hospital was less mad and stressed and I enjoyed listening to two ladies who knew each other and who had both been brought in as precautions. 

It didn't take long to see the doctor, he looked very grave, he told me it was very toxic sap that had got into my eyes, and the affect could be delayed and serious. He told me that there was no eye specialist available and that I might have to travel some distance, he also said he was tempted to send me back to casualty at the other site for an in-depth, but I told him it was a six hour wait and that I was freaking out up there, so he said he would do his very best with my eyes.

He put drops in my eyes, you will hear more about the hilarious result of that later, the drops turned my eyes and the area round my eyes orange and gold :) but wait and I will tell you. Anyway, he examined my eyes carefully, because that sap can cause ulcerations and destroy the cornea and eye, eventually he said it looked as if I had got away with it, the agony had begun to ease a bit now, he said that the damage can be delayed and that if anything happened within the next day, I was to rush to the big hospital, 10 miles away as the eye specialist was there and I would have no other hope of saving my eyes. Easier said than done, how would I rush there, blind and without help?

Anyway, he made me read a letters chart, and I could, so we decided I would probably be OK. And it had meant casualty had one less person to worry about, he did also check my mental state and asked if I was suicidal, as it was obvious that all was not well, so I told him that I wished I was dead but that is not the same as being suicidal - never tell a medical professional that you are suicidal or you will be imprisoned or beaten and locked up.

Anyway. The doctor said I was OK to go home. I hadn't told the hospital I was homeless, they had my old address as a result of the police beating the previous week, so I let them use that, so I went out into the night with a raging headache and sore eyes, but just sore now, not agonizing. I felt relieved and shaken. And now I had to go and find somewhere to sleep. I slept under the clear starry sky, wondering if I would wake up blind, but I didn't, and my eyes recovered. It was a narrow escape as that toxic sap has a particular warning that it can cause blindness.

I missed something out, about the eye drops turning my eyes and around them orange and yellow.
The local festival had an orange and yellow theme, and when I left the hospital and went to the late night coffee bar, everyone thought I had come from the festival!
Apart from one man who worked there, who could see how swollen my eyes were, he was very sympathetic, and the man who was in the next casualty cubicle from me the time the police beat me up, he is always in the coffee bar and always says hi when he sees me, he must have heard every word about the police beating me up.

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