The Doctor’s main companions have been gathered together for the penultimate episode of series four.
While the Earth has been taken, as part of the Master plan of his arch-enemy Davros, he finally locates Rose; to run toward her, down a debris strewn street.
He has found her.
The story throughout, with ghostly images of Rose shown in the background of several episodes has had led to this.
It has all led to him running to Rose, only to be shot by a Dalek.
Although Captain Jack arrives, just in time to kill the Dalek, he has not been in time, to save the Doctor, who lies in Rose Tyler’s arms.
..
Then those immortal words, ‘to be continued.’
“The Doctor is mortally wounded and he needs to regenerate… and there’s not really any going back from that.”
Quote: David Tenant.
“So at the end of the episode, the doctor is dying, he starts to glow, he starts to burn.
He’s changing into a new man. I’ve got no idea what happens next. And, I’m going to be sitting down next week as rapt and as excited as in the dark as everyone else. Honestly.”
Quote: Russell T. Davis, (Executive Producer) prior to laughing to camera.
"Well, I've got my space 'behind the sofa’ ready!"
Quote: Neil Kendrick (lifetime Doctor Who fan.)
I got home from Simon’s to find out that Anna had phoned, “Will you phone?”
Well, it wasn’t too late, so I did.
It had sounded like I’d just woken her up.
“My Mother,” (an estranged Mother, a Jehovah’s Witness) “says that while the court case is going on, I can’t have any male friends round.”
As the court case concerning child sex abuse, I can understand it. Yet, as her Mother was one of the main reasons for her going from one abusive to another, I almost resented the fact that she’s said that. Although, I guess as the police are involved and the court case is ongoing, I can understand it.
Just watered the front lawn again. This easterly wind that we’ve been having of late has really taken it out of the soil and to be succinct, it’s too humid, for me and I’m wearing my shirt loose, something I rarely do.
Saying that, the back garden is all in colour, just lacking water.
Water. It’s something I need a lot of right now.
I collected my coin from Andy yesterday, and then left it at Simon’s, as I went to call on Anna, bottle of Chilean red wine in hand, walking to Birkenhead, as a 411 had been cancelled. On the walk, I met Terry Coulson, a young man who was slightly inebriated and in need of getting to Birkenhead himself.
We had both walked fast, but once we got to Birkenhead, he encouraged me to go for a quick bevy. A couple of scotch later, we were off again.
By the time I got to the Bus terminus, I had realised that I hadn’t needed the last Scotch. Perhaps that is what led to me getting the wrong bus and ended up walking, yet again to Anna’s. Since her child-abusing spouse left, she has been re-building her life and she had wanted to talk, so I listened. And, we drank.
At about five in the morning, I eased the duvet down and got undressed and went back to sleep.
..
I’ll go get another drink of water.
Good grief.. gone a day and a half.. and the ammount of people who have me on their friends list has gone down radically.
Good to know people are so supportive, when you feel a bit low.. and cheesed off with fools, on here, as much as in Real Life.
COMMENTS
*Gives him a dig in the ribs*....what's up suasage ? x
fools are fools and they're everywhere.
not all of us left, however.
some of us just don't say much...
Dont worry about them.
smiles the fools you can live without.
don,t allow them to get you down just keep your head up
Before I think of going travelling, I wanted to finish working on my tidy-up of the radio Times cover I scanned, for the profile here.
Working pixel by pixel, I finally got it finished to my satisfaction after an hour and a half..
I think it was worth the work.
There’s a fine golden light outside, as I sit to write, the rain is still falling as it has most of the day and the ground beneath the privet hedge out front is still dry.
So I write, while it’s so bright.
Having poured my thoughts into my V.R. journal; put some new pictures up; and appreciated the comments on my new story; I picked up my camera and caught the train on a blue-sky day. I had to – there are still times, when the constraints of four walls me nuts.
I’d got to the bus terminus and went outside, to light a smoke. Needless to say, just as I reached into my pocket, for my tin of smokes, the bus arrived ..
And that had been the start of a good day; that had led to me writing some poetry, the results of which now sit in the poetry section of my journal.
Not only did I learn that on the 25th of July I’ll be having my operation at 7:45 a.m., but I made a few discoveries at the project.
We’d been tidying up and one of the regulars gave me a piece of paper to show Roger. The paper was an article, from the Liverpool Echo, about a young man who’d been on the streets for nine years and frequented our project at both our locations; the church where we are now and the community centre before then.
Phillip Crockett was his name, he’d been 38 and his funeral was the Thursday. An annoying fellow at times, yet, he had good heart.
They say he died of natural causes. (Pneumonia) It could have had a lot to do with being tied up, kicked badly and left for dead.
It is said he was beaten so badly over a pair of second-hand trainers.
His brother found him in a warehouse on Brownlow Street, close to the Post Office sorting office. His family miss him, according to the article and believe the police aren’t taking his death seriously, because he was homeless.
..
Then I learnt more of Lesley. A few years ago, when we had more volunteers and we opened up the church, rather than serve at the door, I used to get hugs from a girl name of Lesley (not supposed to accept hugs, I can hear them say). Then, one week, Lesley stopped coming for a meal. I asked questions of her, but got nowhere initially.
Finally I learnt that she dies with a needle in her arm, in the warehouse.
The police hadn’t treated it seriously, I was told, as she was just another addict on the streets, found dead in a warehouse, near the town centre.
Well, now I no the rest. Seems the fella was looking in a pit (like in a garage); for a spike (needle, used, or unused) to hit up with (“as you do”) and she wanted; which he’d not liked, so beat her near to death, then through a pallet on her to finish he job.
..
Ah.. FUCK.
..
You’re supposed to remain detached, in order to do voluntary work; I was told that years ago. Yet the very reason I didn’t get into counselling, was in that in my first term of training, I found that I got too involved with the people I work with.
Well, I don’t want to be less human than those professionals I’ve criticised in the past, for their detached manner. Too judgemental? Perhaps.
Yet I’ve done the no-emotions bit, after the first fiancée cheated with the best friend.
I don’t ever want to not feel, again. So because I do now feel, I tale on board what happens to those society doesn’t care for.
..
Which is worse, feeling, or not?
COMMENTS
Best of luck on your operation.
I agree with you...*hugs*
It isn't about not feeling, Angelus. It's about keeping a few emotional boundaries. I do feel for my clients and I relate to them from my own life and experiences. I hug. But I do not feed their stories...I feed their real need. Again, not the symptoms or what they necessarily ask for, but what the true need is and what I have available to give.
When a client dies, I grieve. You're human for that. See "Brenda is dead" in my journal for an example of that, and there are more. But you have to have enough of yourself left to function and continue doing the job you do and to live your life. I hate the word "detached." I prefer "boundaries." God bless. You're a good guy.
Both have their drawbacks...usually when you care too much you get your heart back, in a finely shredded pile. But dont stop caring, Neil :).
‘A tale of a car delivery man who falls foul of a gang of vampires terrorising the bywaters of the American Southwest,’ and I’ve never seen “The Forsaken”??
I woke at 8:17 a.m. one curtain open, on a very sunny morning. Got a phone-call about ten minutes or so later, to inform me of a date, for my operation July the 25th at 7:45 a.m. Heck-uvva a start to the morning. Then again, I’ve been waiting for the operation for awhile now, so early morning or not, I’m, looking forward to it.
But, the weather? It hadn’t been like this yesterday. Yesterday was a wet, run-around day, attending to the hassle of benefit agencies; and then, onto Simon’s. A friend had called round who has been on one Her Majesties holidays; a good guy, whose got bad press. Pete and Vicky were there and a few others who I like & drink and smoke were flowing (as it were) as was good fun. Once most had left, Paul called round, with a film to watch. Now Simon, doesn’t like copies, due to ‘their inferior sound’, but he does like Paul, so the film got played. Now I feel like saying, “If you like good fantasy films, watch ‘The Forbidden Kingdom.’
From the title sequence on, the film paid polite reverence, to a genre of films that we grew up with, the kung-fu movie; and the films of Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and the t.v. show ‘Monkey.’ It was a fantastic film, with the fight sequence part of the way through that everyone (like me and Paul) wanted to see, between Jackie Chan and Jet Li. I can’t rave about that film more: it was superb, definitely to be recommended.
..
Then, as I’d stood at the bus-stop on King Street at about 10:45 and the rain fell again
I was so pleased to see the slight smile on the driver of the last 411 of the night.
There are two drivers who do that late-night run and I know both now.
I’d boarded the bus, sat on the seat in the left corner at the back, brought my knees to my chest and relaxed, for the homeward journey.
The other day I went on my travels, to my friend Karl’s. On the way I made a little film~
http://www.dailymotion.com/kendrix47/video/9753592
A direct link can be found on my profile, if anyone wants to check it out.
I’m off to the darn benefit office again tomorrow, to hand in some forms, thatr explain my complaint with the hand.. it doesn't read well..
It seems my hand is a little worse than I thought, judging by what the Doctor handed me today..
“Awaiting arthroscopy for his left hand/wrist to debribe and repair his TFC”
and...
“..should refrain from my usual occupation when symptoms have settled post operatively.”
..with my hand the way it is.. I can't type as fast as some Transylvanians I might meet.
..she isn't gone!
**HAPPY CLOMP**
(two left-feet) ..seems she had a head-swap.
Profile update & a name change.. but the Ladies still chatting.. still the Lady I grew to know.
COMMENTS
Nope,still here,just new name,lol ;-)
really??? :D
I went to bed last night feeling pretty good about Life, in general. In part because of what you said before I went & in part, because this week has gone well, for me.
All in all, that’d been a damn good way to end my night and week. Thank you.
I'm currently having fun with forms, for the benefit agencies, about my left wrist. Gawd, they ask some silly questions. Then again, so far, they haven't sent me to one of their doctors.
Well, for a start, I don’t trust too easily, or I trust too easily and get hurt. There’s no inbetween with me, which isn’t even a word, according to Microsoft’s spellchecker. Says something, that dos. No inbetween for M. Gates eh??
But MissVampira, had/or has, wherever she is, (since she left VR) a very rare quality: the ability to talk and listen. She’d listen to me, as I would her, talking as I am now: and you got feedback, straightforward, honest feedback. I miss MissVampira and wish her well, wherever she is, whatever she is doing.
COMMENTS
*hugs*
I am still here,just made changes to name and profile ;-)
Sorry for making you think I left...
..and I can't stay too long tonight. I have been writing the last two nights: the proofs of which will grace these pages soon..
..
,,abd that's irritating, there's good company online tonight.
The fellow phoned well after 10:00 a.m. as arranged, to tell me he’d been waylaid.
So while I waited for him to call again, I edged and watered the lawns.
When he did phoned, I was knackered, but pleasantly so: and left him at the station, after returning his phone, with a reward: enough money for a whiskey, my tobacco and train fare and blank discs tomorrow.
The Doctor Who episode reminded me of a sci-fi story ‘Marooned’ and no-one I know seems to have picked that up. And, I have a Takashi Mike film to watch later, called ‘One Missed Call.’ Somehow... I’ve missed that. **Grins**
I never lurk.. cept on YIM this is the time of the night VR throws me off.. 23:52.. and Sinora thought I lurked .. me?
..
(Screech .. and, mad cackle.)
..
it can only cope with me for x ammount of time, it seems.
same as most people, particularly fiancee's. plural.
Sitting here half asleep after voluntary work, I thought I’d tell a story, or two and ramble a little of one or two principles, I have. Goes back to when I worked taxi’s really. Well, that and my folks. They taught me if you find something, you try to return it: like when I worked taxi’s and had to work out how to use a mobile, to return it. That time I got four bottle of imported beer. And there were other thing’s that were found in the cars, but trying to work that phone, I recall. Then there was the other day and the college application that I found on the bus. Lots of a young ladies confidential detail. But, I had no stamp. So, a week later, when I had a stamp, so packaged the whole lot together and sent it back, second-class. I figured, she might be more careful about such stuff in future, if I didn’t say whom it came from. So that’s what I did. All of which brings me to tonight and the journey home and the top of the range Samsung I found. It was new to me. Well, any of them are new, to me. But I got through to one person, by answering a text via voice, then spoke to the owners daughter later, then him. He’d just got back from a long trip and now, he can acquire his phone back. And, it could do allsorts. The camera is better than mine: and it can do video phoning; and, he’ll have it back on Saturday. He may live in Aintree, Liverpool. But, he works in Ellesmere Port and that isn’t too far from me. I think he’s a happy camper. It did sound like it, when he phoned after his daughter; after I’d spoken with is girlfriend.
..I am tired, next-doors burglar alarm was going 'wee' all through the night and only shut the frell up, a short while ago.
Tonight, as I was watching C.S.I, I thought Grissom was talking to me, when he said, “The best intentions are fraught with disappointment.”
I’d been trying to obtain Photoshop CE, or X, for a friend and me: particularly in lieu of the fact that I’ve just had a reinstall on the tower. Well, every version I had of Photoshop was fucked and as It may turn out, so are both of the disc’s my mate did for me and now, I’ve had to install an early version of Paintshop, which at least does much of what I want. That said, I’m so-disappointed, I couldn’t do what I wanted to do.
..learning contentment was hard.
..contentment of self.
..so many think that they're only complete in a relationship. it's a pity.
..
..it's like.. they're walking round acknowledging they are not whole.
COMMENTS
*Nods*
It doesn't seem plausable, but it's true...some people cannot function without a partner.
I agree. Also I can't see how people can think they can live with and know someone else when they can't be by and know themselves... all those people who are desperate to have someone else around to cover up the fact that they don't really like themselves deep down.
Only oneself can make oneself complete. To have a relationship means to give and receive that of which is sacred and not take advantage.
One has to be content w/themselves before entering into a relationship. It's hard work to make a relationship work and last. After the hearts and flowers are gone, one tends to forget why the entered into such. Be true to yourself and be happy w/who you are first.
About a month ago, we had good weather for a week. Well, this time it’s lasted longer and I knew what I was going to do this Monday, if the weather allowed.
Thankfully, it did.
I punished the hand, with a bit of heavy work. The darn thing needs to know that I'm boss. Not it. Just 'coz it's the one demanding attention… selfish thing.
(Remember, the operation?) Besides, it was adequate distraction from the problems I had in the morning with the benefit people, which left me frustrated. So I’d worked with a will on a very warm day. Now the front garden looks great and I can feel like I’ve achieved something concrete after my ‘good day’ at the weekend.
I was asked 'when's your operation?'
" .. tomorrow, next week, next year. pass."
I answered.
In other words, I don't know.
..
..and one doctor can't sign a sick note on behalf of another. I have that one to look forward to tomorrow.
.. sitting here with my 'new' copy of windows XP running before me, I having burning eyes.
Karl has had me wworking in group plocies and weird shit like that. And the buggerlugs disc he did of Photoshop, for me and Becy looks like it mightn't work for her, or me.. oh Sausages!
.. I mean, after all this, the dasrnm thing doesn't have Photoshop.
..grant you, it does have sound recorder, which had been missing.
..and, he has helped me acquire a 'new' scanner:
but.. I so wanted to provide what she wanted.. and I need .. and botheration, just remembered, I've got more hassle with the dole tomorrow.
..anyone got a hedge they want trimming?
..
..I NEED Photoshop: to resize pics, scan images, lighten images, purloin images
.. that sort of thing!!!
I ended up getting the train to Liverpool after the one I had gone for, ‘which had been cancelled, ‘due to late running.’
I was determined to have a good day and forget the letter I’d received from the dole, reminding me my sick-note was up on the 8th Meaning, that very day.
They keep saying one doctor can’t sign on behalf of another; but that’s what happened. Once on the station platform, I learnt I had awhile to wait. And, thankfully, it wasn’t showery, though it did promise rain.
When the train arrived, it soon became clear that we’d be doing impressions of sardines; and there was me, wearing Patchouli oil.
I met Pete in Liverpool outside Moorfields Station, calling his name as I came down the escalator and someone, somewhere, repeated me.
But, he didn’t hear either, as he was on the phone, hands-free, to my Mother, asking “… where was I?”
As he finished the call and looked up, there I was.
I had been all round the front of the building taking a few pictures of the building, turned art; and the whole turning round.
We toddled off to the waterfront and The Ark Royal.
Now although the weather wasn’t ideal at first, we had both taken quite a few pictures, as there was so much to see, like the passing crowds, the old building and each other, as we took our photographs.
As time moved on, the weather got better. But we had to leave.
So, from the riverfront, we meandered through town, taking a few pictures of the people and places we saw, comparing on notes, on how we saw things
We left the waterfront at eleven thirty and got to ‘the Jac’, The Jacaranda, on time for the reason a series of emails had prompted me to travel to Liverpool in the first place, from Erica’s, the lady who organised ‘Doctor Who At The Cavern.’
Well, we had settled ourselves into seats downstairs at The Jac and awaited the surprise, which had turned out to be Christopher Ryan and Gerard Murphy. Although I don’t know what Gerard Murphy did in Doctor Who, Christopher Ryan has been a Sontaran in Classic Who and ‘New’ Who and, played Mike in ‘The Young Ones.’
Although I’d taken over a hundred pictures already, it was then that my camera came to the fore, when Erica bid me taken pictures for her, for us the group. As it turns out, a young fellow from another Doctor Who group also asked for some shots to be taken of his friends at his table. At one point I had taken Christopher Ryan’s picture with Pete, who later took a photo of it and sent it to Vicky.
The amusing bit was when, to his chagrin, he’d called Christopher Ryan ‘Mike’, as in the character in ‘The Young Ones.’
The fellow had seemed to taken it it good sport.
Yet, I was looking to the end of my day, so left after a smoke with Pete.
On the way back, I saw a slim young lady in a shop doorway, in a figure-hugging grey dress, good-looking heels on her feet and dark hose on her legs. Her hairstyle and make-up were impeccable. I had politely asked her to taken my photo, with the milling crowds behind me. Graciously, she had.
By the time I sat down to write, the early evening sun was so bright, I had to half-close the curtains to type.
07:15 AM on a Saturday and I’m awake, after a good night at Simon’s. I awoke wondering ‘why?’
Then I recalled that I’d arranged to go see The Ark Royal with Pete in the morning, then meet up with Erica and the Doctor Who group at ‘the Jac’ at 12:00
So, that was why I was up.. and, address and postage for Becky and Photoshop.. aha.. so one can have a memory, when one wants.
..
So.. it’s print out.. and off to see the Invincible Class carrier, a floating in The Mersey.
..
It's not possible to get the whole thing in the view finder, except fonm the 'other side' of the River..
..my side. I noticed that on the bus today. It's a 'big mother.'
Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I cannot accept,
and the wisdom to hide the bodies of those people I had
to kill today because they pissed me off.
I just got in from voluntary work.. and I was delighted to see a few of the lads had left the church tidy today.. there was little to tidy.
And, Roger got the gospel choir of the Liverpool Harmonic, to sing 'Happy Birthday, to Mina, the Chinese girl on the project with us.
COMMENTS
If I’d been banging my head against a wall, for the past couple of hours, I doubt my head would hurt much more than it does now.
I got up early, to go to the bank (well, the Building Society) and yet again, no money.
It seems it’s down to the fact that I’ve changed benefit. There’s that, and the fact that ‘they’ say my sick-note for Incapacity can only be valid for one month, as one doctor can’t sign for another. Correction, this was my GP, signing for the surgeon, who’s going to operate on me.
..
Oh, my head hurt.
..
Then my P.C. and tower needed attention, at the same time: and, the last episode of ‘Reaper’, was on.
..
Oh, my head hurt.
It's sunny and slightly windy. Good drying weather. I should know. While the folks were out, I put the washing out. And, just now, prior to sitting to write, I brought it in..
After my Monday morning chore; dusting the corners up above, in the back, the lamps and behind the radiators, I made my folks bed, then was going to work in the garden, when I found out from the neighbour that his neighbour had died, who I grew up knowing as Mr. Jones, whose wife cared for dutifully, as they endured his senile dementia, which my late Gran had known.
Transpires he’d died a week earlier and knowing a little of what dementia can mean to a carer, I had to say something. So I’d taken a trip to the shops, which is when I’d taken a glance at the papers and taken onboard the corruption in the Home Office and anarchy in Zimbabwe that filled the leads of the papers of repute, then went home to write the card up, take it round and get back to my gardening.
Mr Jones had seemed to appreciate my thought.
A coffee and a smoke, I got down to the jobs that I’d set myself, edging the back lawn and trimming the bottom of the Beech hedge, after my Fathers work the other day.
It was just tidying up really, but after edging the lawn, it did look like it needed doing.
Anyway, just as I finished up, by watering the grass seeds my Dad planted, after having a go at the yellow patches the other day, I looked at the back of my left wrist, at a couple of veins popping up just shy of the joint, that hadn’t been prominent before. Then after deadheading a few roses, for my Mother, I figured it was time to stop, as the wrist needed a rest. So I came indoors, to start reinstalling Windows XP on the tower, as I had set out to do today, when the phone rang.
“About your sick note…”
It transpires, that though the notes made out for three months, ‘they’ can only accept it for such an such a period, as one doctor has signed for another.
Yeah right, try and get a surgeon to sign a sick note…
What with hassle over finance, thoughts of the op. and less people I like to talk to on VR, due to holidays and absence, I’m so pleased I have the gardening to do…
COMMENTS
*hugs*
*Hugs* some more
*hugs* miss you....
Gardening is a wonderful to relax and get away from the thoughts of everything. Just remember to come back once in a while. Some of us do so enjoy visiting with you.
COMMENTS
-
Sinora
11:49 Jun 29 2008
Yep did'nt see that coming....can't wait for Saturday to come round lol
xxEmaeraldxx
22:11 Jul 01 2008
It was such an exciting episode :)
vamfan36
15:23 Jul 05 2008
Best kept secret EVER!!!