The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

So the fine weather ended with the blood moon, which I hadn't seen because of incessant cloud cover. And, though it rained, it wasn't enough for Dad, who was back out with his watering can, while doing the washing.
And, come the Saturday I turned off the radio in the kitchen, bemused, having just heard Marty Wilde singing 'no more trams to lime street'. It struck me that few people would be aware of how incongruous it would have been for a famous rock 'n roll singer of the day to be singing a song which equated to that of a modern folk-song, of its day. So I began to write...
I had considered after a meeting “the other day”, – 'if someone you meet greets you with a smile, you've done something right in Life.'
A smile... My dentist has a sign that says 'look after your smile' and Mister Nolan, the dentist I see; a slight red-head, with more patience than most, has done a great deal for me since 'the fall', to enable me to smile again, with a degree of confidence.
And, on Thursday I'd gone to pick up my new plate, dash tooth. What had puzzled me is why it felt so cumbersome, initially. It had transpired that I had not only one tooth replaced with it, but also an ealier one that had come out from the side.
After his work I'd looked in a mirror, pleasantly surprised and, pleased to note, “A lines gone.” And its true, with the plate in I don't look quite so gaunt, which was... different.
'The other day' I'd been going up the road and heard a whistle coming from the footbridge across the railway, on the other side of the road. The whistle had been so tuneless and, well plain bad... that I'd immediately been taken back thirty odd years or so, when my Little Mother had illustrated how she whistled, by sucking in. The sound she made had been just as bad as I'd heard 'the other day' and, as I'd heard it, I'd smiled at the memories it brought forth of my Little Mother and her smile.
Talking of smiles, a chest infection led to one for me. I'd been going to the doctors for my Dad, as his chemist is right next door and, that's where I'd pick up his meds. And, on the way I called into my doctors and chatted with the receptionist, requesting something I'd wanted.
As we'd spoken I'd noted my doctor walking behind her and recalling how bad my chest and face had got and, that she had assured me all I needed to do was ask. So, I had asked for the antibiotics I needed.
“It'll take awhile,” I'd been told, “I might have to wait for doctor to be free.”
That's when I'd smiled, as I had informed her, “You won't have to, she's behind you...”
And the other day, as I'm making my Dad's bed I looked through his net curtains and there he was, watering the back garden and, smiling... seemingly content, as he tried to keep his lawn looking as good as possible. Then, as I'd paid a taxi-driver who had brought me home, he had noted, “Your lawn is the only one still green on the entire estate. Days later, I'd recalled what had been said and taken great pleasure in telling Dad, taking pleasure in the smile that had followed.
I got hold of a pretty good copy of 'The Meg' to watch, simply because I like Jason Statham movies in general. Well, this one was a pleasant meld of 'Deep Blue Sea', 'The Deep' and finally 'Jaws' on a grand scale. And, much as though I watch way too many films [or, just enough] and am often disappointed by what I've chosen to acquire to watch. This time I'd been anything but and found it so good that I'd felt the stress of each piece of action piece; even though the picture wasn't brilliant, the story and action was superlative. Furthermore, Jason Statham had been positively awesome... and yes, I'm a fan.
Come the weekend, I'd managed to get outside, to do some weeding and edging, noticing it looked like rain. Thinking on the promising inclement weather, I'd worked fast. Consequently, that night and the following days, my right collar-bone area and my lower right-arm ached, quite painfully so. As I'd said to my Dad, it just goes to show how little I'm used to hard-work nowadays.
That said, I'd enjoyed looking back to the work once finished, imagining Little Mother liking what I'd done. And besides, I'd missed the rain by mere minutes... And talking hard work, I'd gone to the bathroom, then realised I needed something, so went in my Dad's room, in search. While looking I had peered through the window, to see the triple extention- ladders against the Beech hedge at the back. I then cottoned onto what the snip-snip, snipping sound was. It had been my Dad cutting up one of the branches he'd cut down from a pretty big, tall tree, prior to putting the bits in the brown bin, for pickup. I went to see him later, “You're sneaky,” I had said: “You waited till I was esconsed in the bathroom before doing that, knowing full-well I'd have objected to what you were doing.”
I swear down, he has little awareness of the dangers he places himself, just to 'finish a job'.
And talking of Dad, both he and I have been confused by the actions of my neighbour next-door, in the detached bungalow. The fellow has had his white upvc frames and white sills painted with brown upvc paint. The thing is, they didn't do the back sills and the attached outhouse. But they had also put a brown plastic fascia on the front, also brown... Dad thinks it's pointless, as over time the paint will peal. I think its pointless simply 'coz of the cost and, it genuinely doesn't look any better. Anyway...
I sent Karl an email 'the other day', saying I wanted to be selfish. Feeling as though my week of difficulties had been too much, I'd felt as though I'd deserved a treat, no matter the cost.
Thankfully Karl had acceded to my wishes, although I'd been told he'd need help with the petrol money for travelling home. I'd certainly had no problem with that... He had helped me get onto the website I wanted, then showed me how to put the Doctor Who downloads I had wanted to buy, to listen to on my bad days... into 'the basket', ready to tally up and find out how much my purchases would finally cost.
A day or so later having put the tracks together, I had listened to one or two, then found one story that I'd found totally entrancing, due to its connection with a classic Doctor Who story from the eighties 'Remembrance Of The Daleks'. The story 'In Remembrance', the last of the stories of Disc 2 had Sophie Aldred in, as in the original story was set thirty years after the 'Remembrance Of The Daleks'. I'd found it a real delight.
Then on the Friday, I'd been listening to one of my stories, as I lay abed, waiting on the bathroom to call me again, when I heard a woman's voice in the house. I'd risen, to me my Aunty Marion and cousin Lesley, who were on a visit, prior to Lesley returning to America, after selling her house in Lanchester.
“How are you?” Lesley had asked and I had answered honestly.
“I thought you were getting better?” She'd queried.
“I never will...” I had answered honestly.
And although abashed, Lesley had maintained her usual bonne amie as tea was had, old photo's got out and discussion had about family, the past and present. It'd been good to see them both, I just wish they had called an hour later... When my Mum was with me, she used to have a hairdresser visit now and then, by the name of Joyce. Now Joyce and she would chat over tea and one day I learned of someone who played golf at the same place she did, by the name of Paul Waring. “He'll make his name one day,” she had said.
Well this August of 2018, Paul Waring won his first European Tour title at the Nordea Masters in Sweden, as he defeated South Africa's Thomas Aiken in a play-off thanks to a par on the first extra hole...
Talking of things skilful, Dad is definitely the ultimate Pisces and, stubborn as ****. 'The other day' the click-click died, the ignition device we use for the grill and hob. Do Dad stripped it down, to try and figure out what was wrong with it. Then mysteriously, its replacement died and it had become another stripped down casualty in Dad's missions of discovery. Yet, the funny thing was, as he worked away to understand the device, I imagined the third world worker who got paid a pittance, to put the thing together, in minutes. They would not know what they were doing, yet would succeed in making it. And, the thought intrigued me, as Dad had finally conceded defeat after two days and went to the village to buy a new one, that cost a pound.
The death of Burt Reynolds got to me, as does that of many of those who have died in the last few years. Yet, I do take heart in some things. I'd been watching 'The Wright Show' the other day and heard them saying that Paul McCartney believes his late wife Linda came back as a squirrel.
Well, I believed that my Mother came back as a Robin and, believed so since one began to visit our back garden regularly shortly after her death.

So the fine weather ended with the blood moon, which I hadn't seen because of incessant cloud cover. And, though it rained, it wasn't enough for Dad, who was back out with his watering can, while doing the washing.
And, come the Saturday I turned off the radio in the kitchen, bemused, having just heard Marty Wilde singing 'no more trams to lime street'. It struck me that few people would be aware of how incongruous it would have been for a famous rock 'n roll singer of the day to be singing a song which equated to that of a modern folk-song, of its day. So I began to write...
I had considered after a meeting “the other day”, – 'if someone you meet greets you with a smile, you've done something right in Life.'
A smile... My dentist has a sign that says 'look after your smile' and Mister Nolan, the dentist I see; a slight red-head, with more patience than most, has done a great deal for me since 'the fall', to enable me to smile again, with a degree of confidence.
And, on Thursday I'd gone to pick up my new plate, dash tooth. What had puzzled me is why it felt so cumbersome, initially. It had transpired that I had not only one tooth replaced with it, but also an ealier one that had come out from the side.
After his work I'd looked in a mirror, pleasantly surprised and, pleased to note, “A lines gone.” And its true, with the plate in I don't look quite so gaunt, which was... different.
'The other day' I'd been going up the road and heard a whistle coming from the footbridge across the railway, on the other side of the road. The whistle had been so tuneless and, well plain bad... that I'd immediately been taken back thirty odd years or so, when my Little Mother had illustrated how she whistled, by sucking in. The sound she made had been just as bad as I'd heard 'the other day' and, as I'd heard it, I'd smiled at the memories it brought forth of my Little Mother and her smile.
Talking of smiles, a chest infection led to one for me. I'd been going to the doctors for my Dad, as his chemist is right next door and, that's where I'd pick up his meds. And, on the way I called into my doctors and chatted with the receptionist, requesting something I'd wanted.
As we'd spoken I'd noted my doctor walking behind her and recalling how bad my chest and face had got and, that she had assured me all I needed to do was ask. So, I had asked for the antibiotics I needed.
“It'll take awhile,” I'd been told, “I might have to wait for doctor to be free.”
That's when I'd smiled, as I had informed her, “You won't have to, she's behind you...”
And the other day, as I'm making my Dad's bed I looked through his net curtains and there he was, watering the back garden and, smiling... seemingly content, as he tried to keep his lawn looking as good as possible. Then, as I'd paid a taxi-driver who had brought me home, he had noted, “Your lawn is the only one still green on the entire estate. Days later, I'd recalled what had been said and taken great pleasure in telling Dad, taking pleasure in the smile that had followed.
I got hold of a pretty good copy of 'The Meg' to watch, simply because I like Jason Statham movies in general. Well, this one was a pleasant meld of 'Deep Blue Sea', 'The Deep' and finally 'Jaws' on a grand scale. And, much as though I watch way too many films [or, just enough] and am often disappointed by what I've chosen to acquire to watch. This time I'd been anything but and found it so good that I'd felt the stress of each piece of action piece; even though the picture wasn't brilliant, the story and action was superlative. Furthermore, Jason Statham had been positively awesome... and yes, I'm a fan.
Come the weekend, I'd managed to get outside, to do some weeding and edging, noticing it looked like rain. Thinking on the promising inclement weather, I'd worked fast. Consequently, that night and the following days, my right collar-bone area and my lower right-arm ached, quite painfully so. As I'd said to my Dad, it just goes to show how little I'm used to hard-work nowadays.
That said, I'd enjoyed looking back to the work once finished, imagining Little Mother liking what I'd done. And besides, I'd missed the rain by mere minutes... And talking hard work, I'd gone to the bathroom, then realised I needed something, so went in my Dad's room, in search. While looking I had peered through the window, to see the triple extention- ladders against the Beech hedge at the back. I then cottoned onto what the snip-snip, snipping sound was. It had been my Dad cutting up one of the branches he'd cut down from a pretty big, tall tree, prior to putting the bits in the brown bin, for pickup. I went to see him later, “You're sneaky,” I had said: “You waited till I was esconsed in the bathroom before doing that, knowing full-well I'd have objected to what you were doing.”
I swear down, he has little awareness of the dangers he places himself, just to 'finish a job'.
And talking of Dad, both he and I have been confused by the actions of my neighbour next-door, in the detached bungalow. The fellow has had his white upvc frames and white sills painted with brown upvc paint. The thing is, they didn't do the back sills and the attached outhouse. But they had also put a brown plastic fascia on the front, also brown... Dad thinks it's pointless, as over time the paint will peal. I think its pointless simply 'coz of the cost and, it genuinely doesn't look any better. Anyway...
I sent Karl an email 'the other day', saying I wanted to be selfish. Feeling as though my week of difficulties had been too much, I'd felt as though I'd deserved a treat, no matter the cost.
Thankfully Karl had acceded to my wishes, although I'd been told he'd need help with the petrol money for travelling home. I'd certainly had no problem with that... He had helped me get onto the website I wanted, then showed me how to put the Doctor Who downloads I had wanted to buy, to listen to on my bad days... into 'the basket', ready to tally up and find out how much my purchases would finally cost.
A day or so later having put the tracks together, I had listened to one or two, then found one story that I'd found totally entrancing, due to its connection with a classic Doctor Who story from the eighties 'Remembrance Of The Daleks'. The story 'In Remembrance', the last of the stories of Disc 2 had Sophie Aldred in, as in the original story was set thirty years after the 'Remembrance Of The Daleks'. I'd found it a real delight.
Then on the Friday, I'd been listening to one of my stories, as I lay abed, waiting on the bathroom to call me again, when I heard a woman's voice in the house. I'd risen, to me my Aunty Marion and cousin Lesley, who were on a visit, prior to Lesley returning to America, after selling her house in Lanchester.
“How are you?” Lesley had asked and I had answered honestly.
“I thought you were getting better?” She'd queried.
“I never will...” I had answered honestly.
And although abashed, Lesley had maintained her usual bonne amie as tea was had, old photo's got out and discussion had about family, the past and present. It'd been good to see them both, I just wish they had called an hour later... When my Mum was with me, she used to have a hairdresser visit now and then, by the name of Joyce. Now Joyce and she would chat over tea and one day I learned of someone who played golf at the same place she did, by the name of Paul Waring. “He'll make his name one day,” she had said.
Well this August of 2018, Paul Waring won his first European Tour title at the Nordea Masters in Sweden, as he defeated South Africa's Thomas Aiken in a play-off thanks to a par on the first extra hole...
Talking of things skilful, Dad is definitely the ultimate Pisces and, stubborn as ****. 'The other day' the click-click died, the ignition device we use for the grill and hob. Do Dad stripped it down, to try and figure out what was wrong with it. Then mysteriously, its replacement died and it had become another stripped down casualty in Dad's missions of discovery. Yet, the funny thing was, as he worked away to understand the device, I imagined the third world worker who got paid a pittance, to put the thing together, in minutes. They would not know what they were doing, yet would succeed in making it. And, the thought intrigued me, as Dad had finally conceded defeat after two days and went to the village to buy a new one, that cost a pound.
The death of Burt Reynolds got to me, as does that of many of those who have died in the last few years. Yet, I do take heart in some things. I'd been watching 'The Wright Show' the other day and heard them saying that Paul McCartney believes his late wife Linda came back as a squirrel.
Well, I believed that my Mother came back as a Robin and, believed so since one began to visit our back garden regularly shortly after her death.

So the fine weather ended with the blood moon, which I hadn't seen because of incessant cloud cover. And, though it rained, it wasn't enough for Dad, who was back out with his watering can, while doing the washing.

And, come the Saturday I turned off the radio in the kitchen, bemused, having just heard Marty Wilde singing 'no more trams to lime street'. It struck me that few people would be aware of how incongruous it would have been for a famous rock 'n roll singer of the day to be singing a song which equated to that of a modern folk-song, of its day.

So I began to write...

I had considered after a meeting “the other day”, – 'if someone you meet greets you with a smile, you've done something right in Life.'

A smile... My dentist has a sign that says 'look after your smile' and Mister Nolan, the dentist I see; a slight red-head, with more patience than most, has done a great deal for me since 'the fall', to enable me to smile again, with a degree of confidence.

And, on Thursday I'd gone to pick up my new plate, dash tooth. What had puzzled me is why it felt so cumbersome, initially. It had transpired that I had not only one tooth replaced with it, but also an ealier one that had come out from the side.

After his work I'd looked in a mirror, pleasantly surprised and, pleased to note, “A lines gone.”
And its true, with the plate in I don't look quite so gaunt, which was... different.

'The other day' I'd been going up the road and heard a whistle coming from the footbridge across the railway, on the other side of the road. The whistle had been so tuneless and, well plain bad... that I'd immediately been taken back thirty odd years or so, when my Little Mother had illustrated how she whistled, by sucking in. The sound she made had been just as bad as I'd heard 'the other day' and, as I'd heard it, I'd smiled at the memories it brought forth of my Little Mother and her smile.

Talking of smiles, a chest infection led to one for me. I'd been going to the doctors for my Dad, as his chemist is right next door and, that's where I'd pick up his meds. And, on the way I called into my doctors and chatted with the receptionist, requesting something I'd wanted. As we'd spoken I'd noted my doctor walking behind her and recalling how bad my chest and face had got and, that she had assured me all I needed to do was ask. So, I had asked for the antibiotics I needed.
“It'll take awhile,” I'd been told, “I might have to wait for doctor to be free.”
That's when I'd smiled, as I had informed her, “You won't have to, she's behind you...”

And the other day, as I'm making my Dad's bed I looked through his net curtains and there he was, watering the back garden and, smiling... seemingly content, as he tried to keep his lawn looking as good as possible. Then, as I'd paid a taxi-driver who had brought me home, he had noted, “Your lawn is the only one still green on the entire estate. Days later, I'd recalled what had been said and taken great pleasure in telling Dad, taking pleasure in the smile that had followed.

I got hold of a pretty good copy of 'The Meg' to watch, simply because I like Jason Statham movies in general. Well, this one was a pleasant meld of 'Deep Blue Sea', 'The Deep' and finally 'Jaws' on a grand scale. And, much as though I watch way too many films [or, just enough] and am often disappointed by what I've chosen to acquire to watch. This time I'd been anything but and found it so good that I'd felt the stress of each piece of action piece; even though the picture wasn't brilliant, the story and action was superlative. Furthermore, Jason Statham had been positively awesome... and yes, I'm a fan.
Come the weekend, I'd managed to get outside, to do some weeding and edging, noticing it looked like rain. Thinking on the promising inclement weather, I'd worked fast. Consequently, that night and the following days, my right collar-bone area and my lower right-arm ached, quite painfully so. As I'd said to my Dad, it just goes to show how little I'm used to hard-work nowadays.
That said, I'd enjoyed looking back to the work once finished, imagining Little Mother liking what I'd done. And besides, I'd missed the rain by mere minutes...

And talking hard work, I'd gone to the bathroom, then realised I needed something, so went in my Dad's room, in search. While looking I had peered through the window, to see the triple extention- ladders against the Beech hedge at the back. I then cottoned onto what the snip-snip, snipping sound was. It had been my Dad cutting up one of the branches he'd cut down from a pretty big, tall tree, prior to putting the bits in the brown bin, for pickup.

I went to see him later, “You're sneaky,” I had said: “You waited till I was esconsed in the bathroom before doing that, knowing full-well I'd have objected to what you were doing.”

I swear down, he has little awareness of the dangers he places himself, just to 'finish a job'.

And talking of Dad, both he and I have been confused by the actions of my neighbour next-door, in the detached bungalow. The fellow has had his white upvc frames and white sills painted with brown upvc paint. The thing is, they didn't do the back sills and the attached outhouse. But they had also put a brown plastic fascia yo on the front, also brown...

Dad thinks it's pointless, as over time the paint will peal. I think its pointless simply 'coz of the cost and, it genuinely doesn't look any better.

Anyway...

I sent Karl an email 'the other day', saying I wanted to be selfish. Feeling as though my week of difficulties had been too much, I'd felt as though I deserved a treat, no matter the cost. Thankfully Karl had acceded to my wishes, although I'd been told he'd need help with the petrol money for travelling home. I'd certainly had no problem with that...

He had helped me get onto the website I wanted, then showed me how to put the Doctor Who downloads I had wanted to buy, to listen to on my bad days... into 'the basket', ready to tally up and find out how much my purchases would finally cost.

A day or so later having put the tracks together, I had listened to one or two, then found one story that I'd found totally entrancing, due to its connection with a classic Doctor Who story from the eighties 'Remembrance Of The Daleks'.

The story 'In Remembrance', the last of the stories of Disc 2 had Sophie Aldred in, as in the original story was set thirty years after the 'Remembrance Of The Daleks'. I'd found it a real delight.

Then on the Friday, I'd been listening to one of my stories, as I lay abed, waiting on the bathroom to call me again, when I heard a woman's voice in the house. I'd risen, to me my Aunty Marion and cousin Lesley, who were on a visit, prior to Lesley returning to America, after selling her house in Lanchester.

“How are you?” Lesley had asked and I had answered honestly.
“I thought you were getting better?” She'd queried.
“I never will...” I had answered honestly.
And although abashed, Lesley had maintained her usual bonne amie as tea was had, old photo's got out and discussion had about family, the past and present.

It'd been good to see them both, I just wish they had called an hour later...


When my Mum was with me, she used to have a hairdresser visit now and then, by the name of Joyce. Now Joyce and she would chat over tea and one day I learned of someone who played golf at the same place she did, by the name of Paul Waring. “He'll make his name one day,” she had said.
Well this August of 2018, Paul Waring won his first European Tour title at the Nordea Masters in Sweden, as he defeated South Africa's Thomas Aiken in a play-off thanks to a par on the first extra hole...

Talking of things skilful, Dad is definitely the ultimate Pisces and, stubborn as ****. 'The other day' the click-click died, the ignition device we use for the grill and hob. Do Dad stripped it down, to try and figure out what was wrong with it. Then mysteriously, its replacement died and it had become another stripped down casualty in Dad's missions of discovery. Yet, the funny thing was, as he worked away to understand the device, I imagined the third world worker who got paid a pittance, to put the thing together, in minutes. They would not know what they were doing, yet would succeed in making it. And, the thought intrigued me, as Dad had finally conceded defeat after two days and went to the village to buy a new one, that cost a pound.

The death of Burt Reynolds got to me, as does that of many of those who have died in the last few years. Yet, I do take heart in some things. I'd been watching 'The Wright Show' the other day and heard them saying that Paul McCartney believes his late wife Linda came back as a squirrel.
Well, I believed that my Mother came back as a Robin and, believed so since one began to visit our back garden regularly shortly after her death.