Friday

Good evening peeps,

Well, it was a better day in a way, if you ignore the cat poo and thorns.

It was a garden clearance for some people I used to know, they moved house a few years ago, then I have moved a few times, but they emailed me and asked if I could do a garden clearance as they have sold and are moving a very long way away.
It was so nice to see them again, they are such nice people.

The garden was very hard work, and after horrible cigarette bins at work yesterday, today's aroma was cat poo. Have you ever emptied cigarette bins by the way, full and wet, they smell like sewage.

Anyway, I worked hard, and had lots of coffee.

And as they are moving, they gave me their gardening tools and barrow. It all helps me, they also gave me a box of chocolates, which are on the kitchen table if you want them, (not for long!) and they also gave me loads of advice and leads on possible work, and phoned people about things for me.
It was a very helpful and productive time.
But my hands are still full of thorns.

Forgot to say, 'Lala Land' is on Netflix now, and it is still trashy but I watched it anyway. It really would have benefited from the characters having some depth and a bit more happiness. It drudges.

Thursday

Good evening peeps,

Not much to say.

I have been doing winter pruning and clearing today.

And all the housework.

I got bread and donuts from the welfare. And crumpets.

Gorst reading my blog as he swans off on holidays paid for by the poor in Jersey, as 'Christian' he should be in Jersey, making sure that those poor, the real Jerseypeople, get a better deal.
Or rather he should be resigning for his destruction of me to cover up for the Jersey Deanery.

Wednesday

Good evening peeps,

I went to the welfare earlier, they were kind, I had a donut and some tea. No one can mend what the church have inflicted and won't put right, all the welfare can do is pat me on the head and feed me, feeding me is always a good idea, I am good at eating, skilled in fact.

I am really struggling, It has been some time now since the Bishop and Archbishop publicly destroyed me and there has been no justice and the national safeguarding team who set it all up and didn't have any answer as to the differing statements of the duplicitous Bishop and Archbishop, continue to do nothing except destroy me.

Things don't get better as the church continue to deny me, make me out to be nuts, condemn me and try to pray me away, their prayers are contemptible, do they think their God approves of them?
Here's my prayer.
God of the Church of England, cast their prayers back down on them with violence and destroy them for their destruction of me, may their prayers ridicule them. Amen

The Bishop doesn't like me telling people he abused and destroyed me, because he wants to pretend that that isn't reality, Which is another reason that the church of england needs to go, the church isn't about Jesus or Christianity or even integrity, which is a part of Christianity. The Bishop's dishonesty and hiding behind lawyers and PR firms isn't Christianity, or integrity or humanity.
Remember that when the Bishop tries to have me put away to silence me.

yak yak yak.

Febreze.

This afternoon I did some satisfying work, clearing borders for the winter, cutting things back.
It is cold and clear and I wish I could go out, but I can hardly walk or breathe.
I got worn out by walking and working earlier.
I wish life had a point.

Tuesday

Good evening peeps,

It has been a rainy day, and I have been buried in deep depression.

I did publish some things though.

The more I look at that post on the other blog, the one someone else did, the more I am amazed at how succinct it is.

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/i-cant-for-life-of-me-remember-who.html

The Bishop's camp is rumbling, they want me wiped out to silence me.
The Bishop's camp? Yeah, he is actually.
His police are after me, so I am nearly at the end of my life.

I have had tuna and rice.

I feel very low.

Hollyoaks is on.

My dream last night was a wonderfully blended mixture of being bullied by my siblings and being destroyed at Canterbury, so many similarities.

Monday evening

I get so tired, so tired, I have been so tired.

Today was mainly leaf sweeping and cutting spiky things that bit my hands.

Max needs repairs, the bill is the last thing I need.
He will be done on Wednesday but I have no idea how I will pay the rent.

It is winter hours now, and without sub contract or a car fit to earn extra through delivery driving, I don't know how I will get by.

I am so tired all the time, I just want to sleep, and not have to wake up to the horror of everything.

Monday morning

Good morning peeps,

Not too well right now, I could sleep again, the after-effects of the trip to Winchester are worse now because I didn't do proper pain management yesterday.

I have tried with my heavy neck thing, but I just want to go to sleep, my head is bursting and I can feel the strain.

I am updating before I forget my dreams.

I dreamed that I was driving near my old house, and the stupid lady with the blue car was blocking the road and I overtook her and went over the junction but my car turned into a bike and I went into a cemetery that isn't usually there. I thought it was a closed cemetery too, but I found new interrments and graves.
There was one grave that was rainbow colour and it said on it 'The world will have to take me as I am'.
And even in my dream I wondered why such a life statement was on a dead person's grave.

Then I dreamed about beautiful boats.

Then I dreamed that the church were flinging me into court without a voice again and they wanted me to be forced to plead guilty as they had done before.
But I decided that their time for having me forced upon while I had no voice was over, and I was going to tell the judge exactly what was going on.
In reality, the church will get away with what they have done as many times as they like, as all the authorities are on their side and I will never be recorded as me or have a voice.

I feel sick, I really want to go back to bed.

Sunday

Hey peeps,

I slept most of the day.
Not in terrible pain but certainly feeling the after effects, and struggling to walk.

This evening I staggered to the welfare, and they patted me on the head, fed me roadkill stew and some sort of hot drink, and sent me on my way with a substantial food parcel, much needed.

The trip to Winchester had been booked in advance, I can't afford trips anywhere except the expenses paid ones that I sometimes make. But I have very little money, it is winter hours at work now and people keep cancelling and it keeps raining.
Not good.
Combined with the bleak situation of recent events, it is hard to cope.

Anyway, so I went to Winchester yesterday, it will always be my home town, even if I am exiled, but my people are gone.
It is funny, I recognize so many people in Winchester, a lot of them I can't remember where from, some are church people, so I cheerfully flip the bird at their departing backs. So many people living the lie of the church of england.

I am watching Goldmember and trying to type out another Circle post on the other blog.
The Bishop is trying to set his police on me.

Norf Wolls

The brands early on, Winchester High Street dow to the Broadway.

I can't get the North Walls Videos to upload and play, sorry.

The brands are on the move. Buttercross. Sorry my cheap smartphone camera isn't the best for this.

From Jewry Street, the brands are still all the way down to the Broadway despite me filming from the Buttercross for some time.

North Walls 2017 - briefly

I am on my way home, with a bit of assistance from a few kind people.
I couldn't really stand or walk any more, so I am grateful for the help.

Well it started at 4am this morning, so I am tired. I live a long way from Winchester, for my safety, not because I want to be exiled from my home town, although it is a sad and useless home town since the Bishop and his personal pit bull estranged me from my friends, churches and community there.
There isn't any way of ever putting that right, which is why Jane Dodds' stupid comment about making things 'like they were before' made me so angry. She really didn't have a clue about what I had been though.
It always annoyed me that Bob Hill didn't take in or understand any of what had happened, and thought I still lived at Winchester and kept telling people so. I was driven violently from Winchester by Jane Fisher and the Bishop in 2010/11 to protect the Bishop's reputation, and they didn't stop but kept driving me when I fled.

Anyway, it was heavy rain as I set off this morning, and it rained until 10am.
I had a spare jumper and spare socks with me and I was glad I did.

It was nice to see my Southampton again, my special precious Southampton. Southampton is like a hug, a hug with too much walking, but a hug nonetheless.

Then it was on to Winchester.

Winchester was dozing, so I poked it and it woke up, coughed and said 'Oh, JJ is home'.

I had breakfast, as it was now 8am by the time I had kicked Winchester into wakefulness.

The morning went by peacefully, and I enjoyed tea in a favourite cafe at lunchtime.

I enjoyed popping round to St. Peters, who helped Fisher and Scott-Joynt to destroy me, just to scare the hell out of some of their old gossips.

I wrote a nice letter to some of the people who aided Fisher and Scott-Joynt in destroying me, and wished with all my heart that the Winchester of before then could still be my Winchester, my home town, the Winchester of rolling down the Arbour bank with Poppy in the snow, that was my home town. But it remains the stained and shamed and unsafe Winchester of the church destruction of me.

Here is my nice letter

http://www.opnlttr.com/letter/open-letter-complaint-winchester-churches-nightshelter-and-trinity-centre

I would not have been a rough sleeper and open to rapes and assaults if those people had not aided the Diocese of Winchester in destroying me.

At some point the police turned up, so I strategized, legged it, and watched with great interest as they didn't find me. They continued to not find me until they were busy with North Walls.

An addict collapsed in the road outside McDonalds and the police were there as well, trying to revive him.

I sat on the wall by the site of the old police station, the police brutalized me and abused me there and behaved appallingly, nothing will ever heal that, but if I sit there and pray, it helps.

I found some really good tea before going to North Walls, I didn't have drinks and snacks with me, and it is my last North Walls, so it is no good saying be better prepared next year.

I walked down, I used to be there for hours, like many people, getting all hyped up and excited. But now I am too tired and can't stand, so by 6.15 I was playing with the light sculpture rather than down at the Broadway. There were a lot less police this year.

I splatted happily at the light sculpture for a while, and cried a bit, the light sculpture, the 'pillar of light' is interactive and if you splat it's middle, the lights dance and play with you and I love it so much, I adore bright LED colour lights.
But some children came along and they wanted the sculpture, so they were using the text service to choose the colours and light patterns. I just watched.

Then I had to go and join North Walls.

But I didn't even try to get to the Broadway, it was packed. I stayed up by the Buttercross.
It felt funny, I was doing North Walls differently.

I stood on a bench and I did photos and videos of the brands. I didn't have a brand this year, to symbolize that the flame has gone out and the light is fading.

The crowds and brands grew and grew.

I couldn't believe it when the blues started to move, they have never in my life started North Walls on time!
But yes, the marshalls were shouting everyone to move, and the fire engine was coming through.
There was little by way of bands and parade following it this year, but never mind.

I stayed where I was for some time, the crowds were so thick and I just didn't feel able to walk, normally I would be at the front, and would look back from Jewry Street at the brands all the way to the Broadway.

I videod from the bench for some time and then joined the brands.
And even when I reached Jewry Street, the brands were thick back to the Broadway, it will never get old, that sight, the pride of Winchester. The sight that a terrified seventeen year old saw for the first time and overcame her fear of fire from an upbringing of petrol bombs and malicious fires.

'Winchester! My heart! My Home! My Heritage! Nothing they do will take you away from me!'

As I did the video from Jewry Street, some lovely people, new in town, asked for directions, I had to tell them with a grin that they would have to walk against the crowds to get to their destination, the crowds remained thick and solid down to the Broadway.

I walked Jewry Street, and stopped at City Road for more video and pictures. The usual trapped traffic on City Road was fuming.

And then it was onto North Walls.

Down to the Fire Engine.

And down past River Park.
Someone fell over, but they were OK.

In the old days you didn't have to hold your wristband up on the bridge, because there weren't wristbands, back when I were a lass.

Oh, the strangest last North Walls for me.

I had made an effort to be later in the parade so that I wouldn't have to stand and walk around on the muddy field, it is such a stress, and now alone, there is no excitement or party atmosphere for me in waiting. No.

There was still some time, as the bonfire was late being lit!
Another bloody tradition.
And then they did this stupid disco stuff, making the fireworks really late.
I was hopping mad because I was sure I would miss the fireworks now, as I had to start heading back.
Eventually the fireworks started.
And they were as good as ever.
I had actually got a seat, on a step, which is a never for North Walls. No seats.
But even so, I had to get walking up the road part way through, and watched as I walked.

I hoped to get a train before they got too crowded, and hurry on home, but no such luck, the points and network failures meant it was chaos, and the crowds poured in from North Walls.

I was panicked. But Passenger assistance flung me into first class on the first train that was running and I had a nice journey thus far.

I am still on my way home, I have maybe 90 minutes or so of travel, and I am utterly exhausted and aching. I am worried about falling asleep before I get home.

Tomorrow I hope to transfer some of the photos and video, maybe, there is always a first time, then you will see what North Walls has been.

And when I am dead, they will still march with their brands, and the pride of my home town will echo, but that seventeen year old who overcame her fear of fire, will no longer be there with them.

Winchester

Please believe me and don't let me down. The Bishop is using the police to hound me and try to silence me again. He was quite happy to destroy me publicly for three years, but he doesn't like a teeny taste of his own medicine when I have reported him for his remorseless destruction of me.

http://bobhilljersey.blogspot.co.uk/2015/11/jerseys-dean-letter-to-archbishop-of.html

http://www.opnlttr.com/letter/letter-questions-dioceses-winchester-and-canterbury

http://www.opnlttr.com/letter/second-letter-questions-dioceses-winchester-and-canterbury

http://www.opnlttr.com/letter/1st-open-letter-bishop-winchester-0

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/JJNP

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/formal-letter-to-bishop-dakin-2.html#.Wf2KG1u0Pcc

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/third-formal-letter-to-bishop-of.html#.Wf2J11u0Pcc


That last letter contains an incredible bystander's observation, but I can't for the life of me remember who wrote it. I can't for the life of me remember. No, I can't. But it is pretty sharp.

Friday

Hey peeps,

The Diocese of Winchester have the police after me, again. I did say last year when the police attacked my home without charges, that now the church-police harassment had restarted, I may as well be dead, as it wouldn't stop. I was correct.

Anyway, it has been another day starting with trauma, and going on to work.
I washed the bed linen as well.

I went to do a garden and they hadn't phoned me to cancel, very annoying, then I was doing the care home, and was extremely surprised when one of the directors, who was visiting, came out and shook hands and said they were delighted with my work on the gardens there.
Sometimes the care home drives me nuts because I have a time budget there and there is so much to do, so it encouraged me a lot.

This evening I have been watching Hollyoaks and films.

Thursday

Good evening peeps,

Well it has been a quiet day, my old lady is away so this morning I didn't work, I was battling depression and trauma anyway.
This afternoon I did the care home. I have had to rethink my winter bedding, the new hanging baskets have small clips so they don't fit, so the winter pansies are all going in planters and tubs.
That made my mate laugh a bit when I grumpily told him.

This evening I have got on with writing the circle blogs on the other blog, yes the full horror of the violence aged 12 is on there now if you are feeling in the mood for horror.

I have watched two films this evening, and Hollyoaks, the first film was a sweet little film about a black couple who adopted a white baby, it's called 'He has your eyes', the second film, just finishing, is Titanic. I recommend the first film, beautiful.

It is cold and foggy, I like fog but it is dangerous.

I dreamed about Jersey last night, and the islands, clear and sharp again, that I was dying and was allowed to come home in peace. I hope I will be allowed.
Do you know something I never mentioned? When it was early days into the massive press stunt that the Bishop and Archbishop launched on me, a number of people offered me a home in Jersey.
You have no idea how much I wanted to accept those offers, but I knew better than anyone how unsafe and untenable it would be.

My letter to the Bishop has statted 1,111 in the past 10 days.

Wednesday

Good evening peeps,

Not much to say, I was struggling with heavy mowing today.
Continued to write the circle story on the other blog.

Just watching Airplane! Before Bed.

I still get some Jersey premonitions at the moment.

Tuesday

Hey peeps,

It is harder to update these days, life has even less point to it than it did. The trauma has been too much.
The public discrediting of me by the Archbishop and Bishop with the help of their complicit and unquestioning media last year was the last straw, then they had my home attacked and destroyed by the police six months later, and of course it just hasn't stopped.
I cannot imagine the minds of those psychopaths who have inflicted this suffering on me while they continue to officiate and use the name of Jesus all the time, although you may have noticed that the Archbishop avoids Jesus Name and says God instead.

Anyway, I did some work today, but I am having trouble with pain, and nowhere to go for help with that.

I have been watching movies this evening, and Hollyoaks, the drama in Hollyoaks where the school blew up.

And I have been writing, using the other blog to write chapters of a last account of my background that led to the church being able to abuse and destroy me.

Sunday

You know what they say about the clocks changing?
You get an extra hour in church.

One of my phones updated, the other didn't, but I got up anyway, it was strange going to the farm in the light rather than the dark.

I finished the farm duties and headed for church. I don't normally go to the earlier service but I did today, they thought they knew what had happened, that I hadn't set the clocks, but no, it was the farm duties, not the clocks that made me early.
So I survived two services and a hell of a lot of talking to people.

I came home and watched 'The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas', the film is the same as the book.

I did the housework and then went to the welfare.

The welfare cheerfully fed me slop and mash and something resembling tea, and checked that I was being me and possibly alive. They do that, as you know, you will remember I used to go there regularly to be fed, patted on the head and booted out with a food parcel of dubious quality. Bless them.

This evening I have continued housework, had a pain in my side again, and watched 'Here Comes the Boom', but I have been battling trauma, as I do.

Saturday

I have enjoyed the early mornings on farm duties, I have had the farm, morning and evening this week, and I have enjoyed it.
I have loved getting up in the pitch dark, 5am, and going down to the farm, waking the sleepy hens in their clouds of fluffed feathers and startled clucks.
The ducks seem to find the torch bewildering, and they do mad dances.

Tomorrow is my last farm duty, and I was too tired today to finish the mowing, so I will have to scandalize the CofE hypocrites who don't know their Bible, and finish the mowing tomorrow, Sunday isn't the Sabbath anyway.

Anyway.

Today I was up at pitch dark o'clock, my mate 'A' was up, drinking tea and worrying about his situation, so we drank tea, it is always good to drink tea and worry with someone else at some unearthly hour.

As I said, I was tired, and had a headache from recent challenges, so I did the farm and came home to bed, Saturday is the only day I get to do such a thing.
I lay down and was asleep, I hate sleeping in the day, but I knew I needed to.

Recently the premonitions from Jersey have been loud and clear, almost screams. Premonition from Jersey indicates trouble, and it usually comes in the strange form of clear pictures of Jersey accompanied by a feeling of deep sorrow that seems to be someone else's sorrow and not mine. Anyway, Jersey premonitions always signify trouble.

But as I slept, I dreamed of the Channel Islands, very clear and sharp dreams that seemed to go on forever, I was there, I was home, and I was happy, home at last. The dreams were comforting, joyful in the midst of my despair, but unfortunately they were, the same as the premonitions, a bad sign, something harmful to me will happen from Jersey again.

When I was battling whooping cough and pneumonia in that cold February of 2013, I lay there as the snow fell, and I dreamed of Jersey, sharp and clear, and then the massive-scale press and media hate attack was launched against me by the Bishop of Winchester and Archbishop of Canterbury, with a bit of help from their friends.

My letter to the Bishop of Winchester has leaped 500 views in the last few days.
Hm, if they can kill me to silence me, they will, they have tried so hard, and yet I am still here, destroyed, but here. I want to see my abusers removed before I die.

Stepping out of the circle was a recent profound experience I had. I hope to write about it somehow, and eventually it may make a good book title. Authors always look for new ways to present work, and actually that was a great way to present my life, and it may work as a book, it will take more thought though.

My friend who emailed earlier, yes I am coping, not great but coping, just get those cups back at  and I will come and have a cuppa. No cups, no me coming round for tea.

It has been one of those weeks, the warm wet weather has led to rapid grass growth, everyone wanted mowing done and the grass being long and wet, with rain still falling, has been a nightmare to mow.

I have been watching Rain Man on repeat this week, great film.  I am now watching Hancock, I like Will Smith, my favourite of his is '7 Pounds', which as well as being very emotional, reminds me of my story and how I went on living after life ended.

I will post on the pages section of the blog at some point, the statements recently about the damage to me by the church and police this month. Yeah, while I am alive, they will go on destroying me.  But I won't shut up, because what they have done is a travesty, Bishop Tim Dakin and Archbishop Justin Welby should not still be in their positions, and using other survivors, Macsas or the police to destroy me and drive me to death won't change that. No amount of church lies flung back at me will change that. Attacking my home with the police and leaving me homeless again didn't change that.  Nothing will.

The attacks on me and discrediting and smears of me have had a profound and lasting effect, I am sure any of you subjected to a complete undermining of your lives, with nowhere to turn for help, would suffer. And if you had a background like mine rather than a solid foundation, you also may not survive. I wouldn't wish what I have suffered on anyone, except Jane Fisher of course.

Another thing as well as the Jersey premonitions has been troubling me and causing flashbacks, the horrific damage to me by Jersey Police in their dishonesty and brutality, nothing has been done about it, and the church and states did that terrible 'serious case review' whitewash of it so that I can be terrorized and never see justice and thus never heal.

Some of the bad memories at the moment are about the illegal actions of Jane Fisher and the Korris report, Fisher and the Diocese had no right to liaise with police and social services to destroy me and create an inaccurate report, they also had no right and were told so expressly, as were autism Jersey, that I didn't consent to interference and liaison.
There was a wonderful lie in the Korris report about the police sending me a nice letter. If they did so, they knowingly sent it to the wrong address, and the church of england had no right to know about such a letter and I certainly didn't tell them, as I never received it.
The Korris report was an attack on me, publicly, and the church spewed it's lies internationally, destroying me, but why? As yet I have no explanation as to why they had me branded and destroyed to the whole world, and proceeded in that vein for three years before culminating their attack in attempted murder, and nothing whatsoever has been done, as no-one holds them to account.

For me, the nightmare will never be over, there is no sign of justice, all there is is suffering.

Friday early

Hey peeps,

I didn't feel loke blogging anymore after the church used the Canterbury protest to catastrophically destroy me, but this blog is my voice and my life while I wait to die, and hopefully after I die it will mean I am heard.
I shouldn't have let the nasty little shills do the damage that they did, but to be honest, I took a leap of faith and I trusted, and that is what happened.

Two of the protesters at canterbury were church employees, acting for the church and harming me, one was a member of Macsas, the organization which helped the church to destroy me, and between them, they rubbished me and my story, left me destroyed, and acted with the church to try to set the police on me.

The police complaint is currently with the IPCC, the protest was a sham, mainly just attended by church of england employees, and they destroyed me, and I managed to preserve my life, shattered and damaged, and go on living and asking for justice, which the church don't like, of course.

I am just waiting to go and do early morning farm duties, hence the early post.

I still don't feel much like blogging, but as you know, the church have tried to silence me before, destroyed me, and eventually I sellotape the gaping wounds and crawl on, each time is harder, but never mind.
The church-police attack last year left me walking in the dark, with nothing left, they took everything, and everything since then has seemed like nothing.
But now I am escalating the matter, each police attack now has to be fully explained, names named properly, and no lies or excuses, and each attack makes a formal complaint.
The church tried another police attack last week, and I immediately told the attacking officer that I would like to make a formal complaint against the church - you couldn't see the police for dust when I said that!
So there is a complaint about that too, and a number of statements have gone to the police and their overseeing bodies.
The church are down to the dregs in attacking me now. They have to record their attacks, and when they lie about them and a complaint is made, it looks bad on them.

None of this brings me any sort of happiness or satisfaction, when the church harm me rather than take responsibility for harm already done, the damage is forever.

I will, before long, post in depth about the Canterbury attack,

Wednesday

Good evening peeps,

Still pulling thorns out of my hands from vicious rose bushes.

I was lucky. Two purple polo shirts, £5 each, new, end of season sale at Marks and Spencer.

I got some work done today, and the wind picked up.

I am just sorting stuff out to do with moving house, I am still in this prolonged house move.

It was interesting to see Stats from Canterbury on the blog today.

I have no doubt that whatever the UnGodly have in store, it won't be nice.
Even a pretence of care won't be nice. The UnGodly are scared and too powerful, whatever they do will either be a flop like their attack on the BBC or catastrophic.
But there is no choice any more. And Tilby still has two days, and isn't going to do a thing.

Do you remember in 2013 I did my series Comparing the Church to Efrafa in Watership Down, and the story of Hazel and Woundwort's meeting on Watership Down?
That whole chapter applies.

“At that moment, in the sunset on Watership Down, there was offered to General Woundwort the opportunity to show whether he was really the leader of vision and genius which he believed himself to be, or whether he was no more than a tyrant with the courage and cunning of a pirate. For one beat of his pulse the lame rabbit's idea shone clearly before him. He grasped it and realized what it meant. The next, he had pushed it away from him.” 

― Richard Adams, Watership Down

‘ “Ah ha,” said the fox, “tell my fortune, eh? And what do you see in the water, my friend? Fat rabbits running through the grass, yes, yes?” ’

‘ “No,” replied El-ahrairah, “it is not fat rabbits that I see in the water, but swift hounds on the scent and my enemy flying for his life.” ’

Tuesday

Good evening peeps,

High stats, but not a lot to tell you.
Hard work, tired, hens, assessed new work, lots to do there.
scratched to bits from pruning roses and strimming.

Washing powder, laundry.

Oh, I got new pyjama leggings, very nice, and reluctantly threw the holey old ones away.
I got new jeans as well, charity shop, perfectly good.

I am having trouble finding a decent polo shirt, but I will try again tomorrow.

Just watching TinTin before bed time.

Tired.