"you can fix my daddy's house" part 1

now... for 15 years i have maintained a very accurate diary...digitally bolstered even if as now EVERY smallest click is a pain the bum.. takes energy

from 0500

And only the ultimate 'dance' - a real one....gets one through the digitals

Much to do 

Now..it will be very hard as to get bits of film up from 10 years ago and mix them in

is many clicks

And...what with all those rather messed up "chicks" 

And then there are parables about reality, of sorts - i want them to be parables but that takes time walking and bouncing for the parable dimension to crystalise and as usual digital destroys ALL creative thought whilst doing it...

unless you go into silly hyper poetical drive, i rather like..

but not for now so many holes to fill in

and i cant even use notepads just too much to juggle in mind...

now... these are here to remind me later to do the BIG parable.. a few months later

And of how she was the first no not her my mentoree on outdoor working and how fine she was! 

BUt the first "you [pl in that instance] can fix my daddy's house.."

His mum

that of course never happened..

We discover is the lovely word, gibber.

Except there are so many more dimensions to our lovely (semi adopted) boy's life...

His Indian dad blocked seeing him... the usual false allegations

And then the biggie... how his step dad, well... never saw his children abducterated to Portugal by the ( she will be hustling again at Hay Festival as i write) yoga / reiki lot

who colonised Garway Hill... the first trustifarians

 

I spent 6 mths pleading and even arranging the rich swiss gran to offer a living wage whist just hanging around...while dad died...seeing his kids one last time...

nope... i guess reiki energy healing and yoga elevates you above the human need to ...be "human" and let a dying dad (never drank or smoked random pancreatic cancer age 39ish) see his kids he hadnt seen 4 years.. taken by Horroroirdshire 'aware' shamanic women to their cult (come bask in the 'radiance' of our new divine land... retreats available at the cost of a sitar a week') in Portugal...

 even then...

BUt even more important nan aide mempoir

THE American... my mistake

I trusted her...as mentor to the young woman i mentored having helped her remain drug free..

just their prozac as she was puritain

within 3 months of spending time with her new 'friend' i had fixed up

she's in the whcky ward...and i know why

that prozac pimped upon her when we had manage dit all no pills

basica;lly killed her

but it was the YAnks reaction to just petting the saved lamb

one day...

it's recorded

A story...well, many, of  how.. 'why' really

Every single (well in the 90s we would call them merely 'space cadet')  emogree into the rural lands..

Didn't know the SIMPLE rules of life

Not fancy new fangled mindfull of shamaniac ones and crystals and tarot and astrolottery

Just the rules: ask a bloke or "bird" to do a job..

It started with HER jobs

And as she saw over a year...not one could be trusted to have meant one word they said

And hurt her...REALLY hurt her inside

But that's for her maybe one day

Me i got so much Monty Python slithering gibber stuff to share it's daft

But it must be funny...ish

Anyway sad to say (even if i far prefer outdoor jobs especially fixing rotten wood in their sheds and fences..)  

It became the norm - i had NO idea that by 2019 it became THE default " you can fix my daddy's house" a mournful lament as if Gorecki was sat on ones shoulder..

parroting... dreams...

or more rather faerytales

Problem is a worker needs to make schedules and plans around his customers ...wishes...so so so effervescently expressed... for certain, too

I can chronicle the NPD that became default, not 'too', but in parrallel with... The Jobs...

All done with love despite the fake 'love' professed at every twist and turn by the ... 

well, just punters... friendship has to be earned....