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Come eleven forty-five Monday night; there I was lying there, when Dad woke me up, gently. I’d had the remainder of Sundays wine with Dad and then lain down, so ended up watching episode eleven of ‘Burn Notice’ Series two, as I typed away, as it rained outside: The air feeling cooler, for the first time in days, nay weeks.



I’d got up shortly after eight and, all too soon Dad and I were doing the housework, prior to me leaving the house to acquire more discs, coffee and blackcurrant and liquorice sweets, the essentials of Life, as it were.



And as I wandered back through the village, slowly, meandering with my headphones in as I listened to the radio, I saw someone with long hair across the road toss their head, in a manner I recognized: “Andy!” I bellowed out.



He’d been escaping hassle in Wallasey and got on a bus to Chester and, remembering I live where I do, chose to get off the bus and give me a bell. Needless to say, I’d been out. And, as it turns out, after learning that, he had decided to hang awhile, before trying to contact me again.



Well, we’d gone walkies and ended up at the common, sitting smoking and talking amongst the green awhile, before heading to mine, as the rain had begun to fall.



I’d introduced him to ‘Star Hyke’ with Claudia Christianson in it, while we talked. Then I saw him out, explaining that when I cook with Dad, it’s kinda our time and that meant ‘time to go time’, which had been okay with Andy, fortunately.



I cooked the mince, making up my stock as I stirred fast and Dad saw to the vegetables and the potato: The red wine that we’d enjoyed with meal had certainly helped me relax somewhat, until eleven forty-five Monday night; there I was lying there, when Dad woke me up, gently.

I went to Karl’s then left shortly after. It turns out that although he’s not an avid football supporter, he likes ‘big matches’, or ‘world matches.’



He was kind enough to help me acquire what I wanted, as well as provide me with a cable for the new external drive. The pity was that when I got home I realised, albeit a bit late that I needed to update the drivers for the PC.



And unfortunately, I found my got home, I found my Dad watching the England versus Germany: which had been pitiful. Granted Ghana beat America, but that was merciful compared to the trouncing England received. And, as for Rooney, that namby-pamby, over-paid prima-donnas: he wouldn’t sing the national anthem; and when he gets fairly tackled, he lay there looking to the camera, as if to say “Ref, look at me!”



Aye, I used to go watch football, in the seventies; and I’ll swear down, this bunch of overpaid [rhymes with bankers] couldn’t hold a candle to those I used to watch.

Early Saturday afternoon saw me sitting on my bed, typing away on one laptop, whilst ‘Burn Notice’ series two played on the other.



I’d been up since early morning, watering the front lawn while the shade was on the lawn, with the mother of all hangovers: and, I’m sure my liver needs to take a small vacation, for a month or so.



After a day that was about seventy-eight Fahrenheit in temperature I’d been on the whiskey Friday night, watching the first two episodes of series three of ‘True Blood’, which Mike and I have waited months for.

I woke up Wednesday morning, sitting in front of the PC at 3:00 a.m.



Mike and I had obviously had a good night.



As I watered the front lawn I thought a lot: “Why is overseas aid ring-fenced, whilst the abolition of child poverty in the UK is ignored?”



Re: The Budget – 22/06/2010



I then thought back to the evening meal and what I’d been planning to do when I got back from Mikes. It was something that had started the two days prior, when once again I’d been going to his.



I’d passed a lady garden, with whom I’ve passed the time of day several times, as she came out of her driveway, with an armful of rhubarb.



I smiled at her, much as I did the first time we exchanged greetings.



“Used to grow that myself,” I’d said, “I love that stuff.”



“Here,” she had said, then handed it to me.



“Are you sure?” I’d asked.



“I was only going to give it to…” She’d told me, pointing across the road.



Needless to say, I’d said ‘thank you’, then continued my way to my friends.



And that is how I ended up stewing rhubarb for Dad and myself Wednesday afternoon after a walk to the Azda on a pleasant day, for mustard and blackcurrant jam.



After the evening meal, which Dad cooked I cooked up some custard, to serve hot with it, as Dad wanted. And, though it had nearly boiled over, a dash of milk and a quick whisk and a good recovery had been made.



The taste of rhubarb and custard was a pleasant taste, recalled from childhood, with my Mum and Dad, both at the kitchen table; and I couldn’t help but smile at that thought as I’d done the dishes.

Lasy Thursday, Rainbow said, I'll see you in two weeks: Rainbow, the hippy AustrianMuslim on the project, who Roger goes ahhhhhhhh after has gone to Glatonbury.



[Names actually Nadia, but she brings a Rainbow to my Thursday evenings. So.. Smiley.]

I woke up Monday, flung my arms and, the mug flew, creating a case of overall coverage. In the evening, I dwelt, as I scrubbed at the stain I had made.



I thought of last Saturday and, one of the best cliff-hangers for a Doctor Who episode I’ve ever seen, that led to me looking forward to the season finale something rotten.



I also thought on the news about one of the two killers of James Bulger seventeen years ago. The two of them were tried and jailed after taking the toddler from Bootle Strand shopping centre, just down the road from where I used to live.



They took him to the railway and cruelly and mercilessly tortured and killed the lad.



They were tried and found guilty, and then at nineteen, freed and given anonymity, which many argued against.



Then in March, Jon Venables was taken into custody whilst on licence, although still given anonymity. Now a senior judge has said that the crime for which he’s been charged can go into the public domain: 57 counts of downloading child porn and something else nigh on as serious.



Now, the crack is, he’s been doing what he’s accused of while on supervised licence. And could ask, ‘what benefit their anonymity to the public now: when the treatment he received after his initial trial cost as much as it did?’



What price his freedom, to Mrs Bulger who for months now has wondered at the crime he’d been taken into custody for.



Gawd, I feel so sorry for her; and her husband… They have been treated shabbily by the law, as was that poor tot.

With the tingles from the Raynards far worse in my left hand than usual, I sat cross-legged, with my white robe on, shirtless as Dad had prepped for an early wash come Sunday morning. It was 10:10 as I began and, still light outside, it being the longest day tomorrow,



Saturday had been another hot day, with Dad and me watering the lawn where he’s re-seeded, as well as my Mum’s borders and plants.



And while he beavered away all day, as only he can, I made my way to and from Azda, seeking a card for him and DVD discs to help make a friends present, buying Cumberland sausages for him, for a treat.



When he finally relaxed, after our evening meal, I relaxed myself awhile, then watched Doctor Who, which left off with what has to be the best cliff-hanger for many a year. That said, this season also produced the ‘Doctor and Vincent’ episode, which I’d thought so wonderful, talking of his depression in the allegorical manner it did: so beautiful.



And, as I finished writing, I found the tendonitis had kicked in as well: so there are advantages to sitting as I do, I was able to support my left writing with the instep of my right foot, which worked well, for me; thus allowing me to type without pain.



[Try doing that in an office Neil!!]]

Friday saw us out early to the Azda, ‘n the sun wasn’t as bright, thankfully, as it was a full shop.



I went wandering in the afternoon, ‘n returned home to cook omelette for my Dad, who saw to much of the rest.



Mike called round later and for the fourth time I watched ‘Solomon Kane’, this time with him.



Solomon Kane is a 16th century anti-hero created by Robert E. Howard (creator of Conan the Barbarian).



Solomon Kane was played by James Purefoy of 'Rome': and seriously, I so like that character that I’ve now seen that movie four times, all the way through.



I grew up reading those pulp novels and later the comics associated with the likes of Solomon Kane, Conan, Carter of Mars, and enjoyed them as much as I do the stories of Robin Hood and Tarzan; King Arthur and The Saint.



And, I saw Mike out at 10:15



Outside it was the lightest I seen for ages, with an dark ominous sky at the back. I went in to tell Dad about it and, standing in the living-room doorway, I said eagerly, “Dad, come out you have to see this!”



He had politely declined, his head on a cushion at one end of thee couch, his feet in his slippers resting on the arm at the other end.



“Dad,” I’d said, “if that were the Apocalypse, would you get off the sofa to see it?”



“It’s comfortable here,” he told me, with the hint of a smile.

I got in from the homeless project at about 9:30, got a hot chocolate down my throat, and then went out to water the lawns, where Dad has re-seeded, prior to the soil going as dry as it had.



Dad’s been going nut’s with the lawn of late, we’ve had so much dry weather, so a little hard work, before finally cooking for myself wasn’t too much of a hardship, particularly in lieu of all the work Dad’s been doing on it of late.



As it was, by the time I was thinking of going on the computer, my eyes were closing and my toes were throbbing: but, people had eaten well and that was the idea after all.

I went for a walk onna pleasant afternoon, returning to home to find Dad cooking.

“There’s nothing in,” he’d said, illustrating how little we had in the cupboard, after he’d got inventive, with a tin of chilli con carne, potatoes and mixed veg. from the freezer. After tea, on a day when they’d had eleven inches of rain in twenty-four hours and floods, in France: I watered the lawns. I spent the evening playing with images and writing…

Dad used to go to Ellesmere Port every couple of weeks with Mum, to get all those little items that otherwise would cost more elsewhere. And, for weeks after she was gone, it just didn’t happen. Little by little he found a new routine and, going there on a Wednesday has become part of our routine now. This week’s trip brought some really amusing comments from the assistants we came across: a new pair of jeans for me; and a pair of non-cotton socks, for the cold-footed one. Then it was back home, still dressed smartly, to pad around the back, pottering in the garden, much as She would have done…

I was thinking about two of the threads I’ve been contributing to: So the question was about technology and is it good or bad? Well, There’s a fellow in Tokyo who now has a product that’s now selling on the internet, a frellin Lightsabre!



Now okay, it’s called the Spyder lll ProArtic; but it produces a blue laser and its owner is provided with goggles and what about the person at the other end, the one it could blind or burn?



Someone thought it was a good idea to make this thing, just think of it’s potential; it is classed as a weapon; and is to be stored under lock and key.



But, it was made, it will be bought; and, here will be accidents and deaths. That is the nature of human beings. Creation and destruction: with imagination, of course.



And as to being bullied? Well. Being bullied is a weakness. It is also a strength. In hindsight, I think a bully is weak, as they have to be as they are to feel good: and it is possible, to find strength, through adopting a persona to suit, which will last as the needed mask, till one allows it to slip.

I had a strange day, but pleasant: didn't get half the things done i wanted, yet wrote.. an that was satifying..

..oh yes, had a good argument, with someone in authority, about my Mum.

I’d spent Saturday with Nadia an Austrian who I know from the project and shown her my thinking place down at Raby Mere on a lovely sunny day; and cooking for a veggie wasn’t made too bad, as all I had to do was leave off the fish and, she was waaay tolerant. And, to my amusement the chocolate treat she brought as gift had translated a kittens tongues.



Sunday was a Karl day, with me obtaining new ‘Burn Notice’, as well as the new episode of ‘Doctor Who.’ And, when I got home there was a meal waiting for me much to my pleasure…



Come Monday morning I was up at 8:30 with my Dad awake and, making kitchen noises on the other side of the wall. It’d been a good weekend all-in-all, but he was awake so it was time to join him, preparing the back of the house, for his vacuuming.



I recall saying to him, as I went to dust, “Don’t take your jumper off, please?” I’d said this as everytime he removes the grey jumper the sun goes in, in much the same way as when I’m out with him in the car, the lights turn to red on his approach.



Sure enough, when I’d gone to edge the back lawn after doing some proof-reading and writing, the sun had gone behind the grey clouds.

Going to the Azda with Dad is like going on a mission, military style, with the list of essentials being honed to perfection.



And, after the bank we were ‘doing the Azda.’ Well, I don’t like rushing, never have and so come Friday I was up early, for me of late, as I wanted to be at the bank for just after 9:30 and, their opening.



Other than a Saturday, or perhaps a Bank Holiday, the place was more packed than I’d seen it. And, I always like that bit where the cashier says to my Father, “Do you want hep packing your bags?” And, he just smiles and says, “No thanks.



He has the whole thing organised, with bags and practises precision he packs them, ready for me to put into the trolley.



And, we still get the red lights against us, whenever I am in the car with Dad.



Finally got the see the episode of Doctor Who, ‘The Doctor Who and Vincent’. The end of the episode: where the Doctor showed Vincent how he would be appreciated in times to come had me in tears. For a depressive, to be understood like he was at that moment would mean everything to them; and I know and understand that only too well.



Heck, as I write this the tears pour down my cheeks, at the thought that just the other day, I had a similar sort of thing happen: I’d sent a couple of video’s to a few.



Someone messaged back, telling me in her words, that she’d seen that moment as I had and, I’d wept then. In my return message I’d told her how I had responded and I’d like to think again, she understood.



And, still on the same lines my Father got a ‘thank you’ card from my Aunty Anne ‘coz he sent her a Birthday card. He couldn’t understand why. So I reminded him that to a lonely person, to be thought of, can mean ever so much. That was why the card.



To anyone who can’t understand either: I’d say, “It’s like that moment when someone teaches you it’s ‘safe’ to allow another to touch you, after you’ve been hurt; and, that’s it’s not only ‘safe’, to hug again; but it’s a wonderful thing, both the receive and, be able to give.” I call such events ‘Mandy Moments’, after the Lady who taught me that I could hug again, ‘safely.’



And then Saturday morning I learnt that the Lady who’d organised the Cavern and Fab café events I’ve enjoyed so much, is to retire: I was shocked.



All I can say is that she brought me so much pleasure, by giving me the opportunity to ‘come out’, as a ‘Doctor Who’ Fan, to other Doctor Who Fans; and give the chance to meet the Doctors and assistants from the show that I have.



Sylvester, Peter, Colin, Sophie, Nicola and Debbie, heck I got to know them all by first name. How lucky is that. I’d so like her to know how much I’ve appreciated her giving me that opportunity: “I think she’s a lovely woman! Erica’s her name and, she gave me many, many Mandy moments”

COMMENTS

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WaitsForTheMoon
13:26 Jun 12 2010

This is your best side my friend.

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NoctusAngelusProcella
16:36 Jun 12 2010

YOU are MY mandy moment and I thank you for that.

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ladyofdragonrose
20:34 Jun 13 2010

i have always loved seeing things through your eyes... or read your stories. takes me to a place I never would have gone without you... your a roller coaster of mandy moments...:)

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After a busy night on the project my left knee hates me. and the fellow who I had been proof-reading for is being a pain again, after annoying me over my Father.. sheesh, time for bed soon.

… it’s good to feel useful, needed. you know? f'rinstance, it's Thursday and I'm lookin forward to chaos later on..

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Invidia
13:28 Jun 10 2010

Shit man, Angelus



Long time no read (See)



I'm not sure you know I'm back but here I am, IN THE FLESH BABY!

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While I was out on my walk Tuesday, I took loads of photo’s: and there's an awesome sequence taken inna garden when the caravan was bein sold and I was standin in front of the cannabis plant, as the fellow buying it was/is a policeman.



The plants a Sativa Indica mix, like last years, that’s a tad early. I do hope it’s as nice as last years. The photo looks just like the Green Man.



An I’m a bit miffed this Wednesday evening. I sent some video's to people and lost track of what I was doing. an, the storms brewing outside: just waiting for a time-bubble to form & John Connor to step out.

went a walk to sign, on. in the rain; that light drizzly rain, with an old-style head-set on, playing seventies sounds: an old style complilation. 'n boy was it sunny coming home.

I’m bit miffed with the ignorant. I got another email from my Fathers fascist pig twat of a mate. I still don't know what to do about him. I don' t like giving in, ever: but then, if I do as he wants.. it feels like I've been bullied, again.



And till just now and seeing the comments on my stuff in the comments section, I didn't know I'd written so much.

Reticent to open Yahoo I went on the PC eventually on Monday. I was still irked by the annoying email from Dad’s mate in reference of his book, after I’d left VR, still irked at the non-appearance of someone I really like. And, thanks to ‘Burn Notice’ after exercise watering the back lawn, prior to rainfall, I felt relaxed, enough to think about going on Yahoo, with the prospect of another email, from the twerp who was impolite about my Father.

Friday was a bugger of a day, simple as. It started with a response to a letter I sent, after I’d gone shopping with Dad, really early for us: an I got to pass the psycho-hose beast twice, quite conscious of the enmity directed my way.



We’d got back, put everything away an, the phone rang. Now awhile back, this brochure came through the letterbox, extolling the virtues of the hospital where my Mother died: ‘eighty five per cent of people being seen to successfully within four hours.’ And I had got annoyed, as my Mother had waited twenty-six hours to be seen to and shoved from ward, to ward, to ward.



So this lady had rung, on behalf of the fellow I’d written to: and she sounded genuine, until halfway through, she asked the question I’d half-expected, “…will you be contacting the newspaper?” Oh there’d been other things said, but that was the one to be noted, really. An when she heard my voice croak, I’d got this “I am sorry to have upset you…” “Told you,’ says I, “no more so than I am every second of every minute of every hour of every day…”



Well then it was time to seek a second head-battering of the day, when I went to the Halifax in the village, an hour early, as it happens.



Turned out that ‘as this is only a satellite office’, since earlier in the year the manager there can no longer open new accounts. He tells me this, after developing frozen face, when I’d mentioned that I wanted a passbook, sort of account. In other words, just as I’d told him the previous day, I knew what I wanted. So ‘why oh why couldn’t he have told me all that then?’



And the little Dell got part of the way through episode five of ‘Burn Notice’, when it stopped, ceased and, I’d thought it was a Dell long gone, so let it cool down.



I’d blamed the weather, for it’s heating up like that. Well, that and that model just having one fan wouldn’t really help, now would it!?!



After that, I had needed distraction on a major scale, which was supplied by Jackie Chan, in the kid’s movie, ‘The Spy Next Door’, which I loved; and augemted it with 'Revenge Of The Fallen.'



In the early hours, I awoke in front of Yahoo and the PC, so went to bed, pleased the little Dell had opened up successfully, before I did so.



After Friday’s events and removing the weight of it all after starting an account with the Post Office, I took myself for a walk to Raby Mere, with my camera on Saturday afternoon…

COMMENTS

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dabbler
01:25 Jun 06 2010

a fitting response to such a day indeed, I would have pulled tufts of hair from my head.

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... too damn warm and sunny.

been gardening and how voluntary work, to look forward to.

Woke on Thursday morning in front of the PC, so went to bed. It’s good I hadn’t been counting units while I’d been out the previous night. I’d gone to Mandy’s after tea and she had let the Isla Negra flow for me, as if it were water. And boy I was fortunate when I left hers. She walked with me, going to the corner social to meet her fella, then I walked quickly to the busstop and, from across the road the driver noticed me rushing to try and cross the road. He’d given me a wave, as if to ask ‘do you want this bus?’ and, I’d nodded madly, then crossing the road, ran to the busstop nearby and, caught the bus, to Birkenhead and my train home.

I got to the dentist for 3:30 and, waited patiently as receptionist chatted to sister about the new ring, with the boyfriend looking on. Then minutes later, I faced the fellow from Holland whose name I can’t pronounce and, the young pretty thing with smile and spectacles and looks to be 14 while, wanting to know all he does. And, the needle into my jaw was massive and, I’m sure nearly made I, to the other side of my head. And then, it was reinserted, just to finish me off, it seemed, as I clenched my knuckles white. He removed the temporary filling, scraping it away with seeming relish, Then the drill and, again and finally it stopped and I relaxed a little until he said, “This is probably the last time you’ll be coming here for a filling.” And I nodded. Then when finished he pointed out that gum recession and a case of pyorrhoea left me needing the work he’d done. Well, with a dead mouth, I watched ‘Pig Hunt’ with Mike. And as I saw him out, it was almost light, with birds singing. And then, just as I was going to go online and, eventually VR the pain, in the area around where the needle went in was sore as was the gum area, which was very sore indeed; on one tooth that had really needed work. And perhaps it was the remnants of the injection, or the whiskey I’d been drinking with Mike, I felt very woozy, as I went to bed early, wondering which was worse, ‘backache, or toothache?’ And, ‘could I swill a soluble painkiller on top of the exposed root safely, on top of the whiskey that is!?!’ As it was, the pain got to me and I had decided to try and find out.

COMMENTS

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ladyofdragonrose
15:19 Jun 07 2010

it worked didnt it? smiles...

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The first of June brought light rain and a dental appointment and, the prospect of a good film and the contents of a bottle of whiskey.