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...thinking about thursday and the young lady who chooses to mistunderstand, as it's easier to do so, than think about whether they might be right about their assesment of another, or not. Her attitude is making things problematic for me. And, what's irksome is that the young-un's are making it into an issue and, then again.. come Sept, it'll 'just be us, anyway.'

It was a sunny Tuesday... and pleasantly tiring: enjoyed doing the garden and, ate well, of a crumble and custard, after the soya mince meal.



Wednesday I went to visit Karl, which was cool, as he had seemed genuinely pleased to see me, after a busy couple of weeks. Thankfully, he did get the house.



Come the evening I watched the last ‘Fringe’, which I’ve followed avidly, since episode one of the first series. How often can you say he final episode was satisfying? Well, after watching that last one, I can say just that, it ended the story arc ever-so-well!



I went trundling on Thursday, just enjoying being able to, as the recent backache seems to have dissipated a little.



Come Thursday night, most seemed satisfied with what they got... ‘cept for the noisy pregnant girl, who'd been threatened with arrest for exposure. Easily heard her vice over everyone else.



After the weekly shop at Azda, I spent much of Friday and Saturday in the garden. And, whilst Dad does the Beech hedge, I do the privet and, I’m pleased to say, it looked real good, after I’d finished getting it into shape, as it were…

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SinginGhost88
21:59 May 28 2011

:)



This makes me feel so peaceful.

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I figure the fellow over the road committed common assault on my Dad on Monday.



’a common assault is a push or a touch’ or a ...



the fellow pushed him.



Now, all my Father wants, is access to his own drive and, for seven months that asshole over the road has had a series of building works done, often blocking a direct line to our driveway.



My dad had gone to confront him, politely and, got told, “I haven’t got the time for this...” and, pushed Dad. And yes, Dad had pushed back.



Needless to say, I had donned shoes and coat and marched on over the road, scowl in place; and the fellow swore at me, telling me ‘keep off my property’, with several swear words, as he called us, ‘nuisance neighbors’; this from the neighbors from Hell. My response, “Touch my Dad again and, I’ll rip your face off.”



I hadn’t felt much better for saying my piece though…

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Vidiana
00:15 May 25 2011

Ugh! I hate when people don't realize that they are the ones who are the shitty neighbors.

Isn't he violating some kind of code for not allowing access to your driveway?

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SevenDeadlySinner
00:15 May 25 2011

my relationship with father isnt good at all but I admire you for defending your family.

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Oceanne
00:47 May 25 2011

Thats crapp.Your dad isnt a young man.No one should EVER touch him!

Next time the jerk blocks your driveway,make a phone call to the cops.

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RedQueen
01:27 May 25 2011

I'm with Oceane on this one- the second they block your access again, call the cops. And I personally would have said the exact same thing to the bastard and made sure he understood me. AND I would have felt better fo rsaying so.

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The phone rings, so you stop what you’re doing to answer it.



You pick up the receiver breathless, expecting to hear a voice. Yet, for a second or so, there is silence, then a well-spoken voice with just a hint of accent that betrays the owner’s Indian heritage, as she says, “Hello, this is Annie. Am I speaking to the head of the household?”



“Yessss…” you drawl slowly, expectant of hearing something you aren’t sure whether you want to hear, or not.



“Have you heard of the government grants and, insulation for home improvement?” She asks and, before she can progress with her spiel, you interject, “It’s alright, we already have insulation…”



Yet, even though you have spoken, it is as though she hasn’t, as she continues to speak, so you repeat what you had said, then add, “So your records are wrong.”



And, having ended the ‘conversation’, you tell her goodbye, still pleasantly surprised that you were able to understand one of these callers so well.

Courtesy of a minds eye picture of what I've seen, I have been going through thousands of images the last week, that are discs in spindles, in piles, on piles.... haven't found what I'm looking for, yet.



But, it's been an interesting search.

After my travelling day on Wednesday, the organized chaos of a Thursday promised to be a luxury.

Except. I’d written down Karl’s Mums funeral and dole day walk on the wrong days on the calendar. There had been a consolation, or two; the first was the weather, as that faint breeze that blew gently ‘gainst my face, on a warm sunny day made the walk quite tolerable.

The second had been a visit to a friend, near the beginning of my walk to sign on. The fellow had some cool films and tv shows for me – all of the Bloodrayne films, including the third one; and Karma Café, which in turn seemed based on Nightmare Café, an 80’s show, starring Robert Englund, which he also had for me – “Ten outta ten, to the fellow.”

Come the evening and, a very busy night on the project, Amy was still being a drain to my emotional well-being, so I distanced her, successfully.

I went to bed early, for me, on Monday night, knowing full well I had to be up early Tuesday morning, to get to Birkenhead and Karl’s.



I awoke with a stressed and aching back, but arose; call it respect, or something, but I wanted to be there for Karl and, that even came down to my time-keeping, And, when I got there and gave Karl the plastic sleeve with the dvd’s that I made for him, of ‘No Ordinary Family’ with the retort, ‘Only from you, today’ and a grin.



He’d looked smart; there had been family, lots of it and, a few of Karl’s friends.



And, his Mother had been ‘laid out’ Now I’ve never seen an open coffin before, or to my recollection that is and, there was Karls Mum laid out, ‘If you want to see her’, and, I had. She looked good. ‘Younger,’ Karl had said to me a smile.



I had got a lift to Landican with Dawn, the Darryl Hannah look-a-like, driving a BMW and, needless to say, we arrived first, as I knew exactly where we were going, where my Ma had had her service, the year before, same chapel and everything.



And, like then, it was grey and overcast with light drizzle falling.



So, it had been kinda weird.



Anyways, we arrived earlier, as could have been expected, from Dawn.



At the service, I sat back with a couple of his friends, while Mike and Dawn, sat to each side of him, at the front, as the priest had spoken, directing his conversation toward Karl, which I’d liked.



And then, there’d ‘the wake’, held at the bar The Richmond, on Oxton Road in Birkenhead, where Karl held his graduation party – the spread laid out was awesome and I’d set my normal control aside awhile, to partake of a myriad tastes, with a whiskey. When I’d left, I was stuffed, most unlike ‘the Neil’.

Friday morning I was witness to the miracle of the shopping basket, wherein a lot of money turns into less and less each week; and on this occasion, I’d actually noticed a garage that we passed, where the petrol had actually gone down a penny in a week, rather than up one; quite surreal.



I spent much of Saturday gardening, just edging and suchlike; but I’d felt content with what I’d done and, the fresh air was good for the irksome sinus’s, which are irritating me again. Then, after a smokebreak, I had got the windows washed. Needless to say, showers had followed. Then, come the evening, I watched the third episode in the new series of ‘Doctor Who’. The episode was suitably gothic and suited to its writer, Neil Gaiman.



Then come the late evening, just as I’d been getting my act together to go on VR and, I was rooting through my discs and found, my copy of ‘Shada’ the episodes of which never became the finished story, by Douglas Adams. I had obtained the story, the missing scenes narrated by Tom Baker himself. I had lost ‘Shada’ awhile back and, lost it: “how ironic.”

And, so it was come Thursday. I had to be polite Thursday evening, so come the afternoon I went travelling, on train then bus, to Wallasey and a friends on a blue-sky afternoon, with a whiskey, or two.



His little dog had got injured and was a bit snappy of its injury, when pawed by the fellows other, somewhat bigge one; one a jacj, the other a rotty.



And, as afeared as I have been of dogs, ever since I was bitten by a German Shepard , I had put my hands before their snarling mouths, to break them up; and then, calm them down. I was stunned, at myself.

But, as the owner had said, it’s just as much his dogs and, my confidence in them.



I left his and Wallasey and, walked down in the last of the sun, wearing my leather, add hair slicked-back, with my photochromatics having darkened. I was done with shielding my eyesm, so the black cap was on the head.



And, that’s the image I then took to the ‘Pool and, a brief sojurn round the streets taking photographs, on my journey to the church.



The night was busy and, Roger was kinda like show some potential newbies around. And, much was done, so after seeing the to the doors I went out the side entrance, to sit on the rail of the sandstone step , calmly having a smoke. Amy had arrived about ten minutes earlier and, the atmosphere was frosty. [[Perhaps also momentarily, from me: although, again, I might be being polite?]] When it came to opening up and serving, I went into mister polite mode and treated Amy courteous and, acquiescing to her, on occasion. ‘After all, I’m there to feed the those who need, not have hassle’.

Anyway, we worked well together, as intended, though as I was tidying I her heard many plans for later, do sleft quietly. After all, I’d done what I’d inended and furthermore, there was stil some power in the batteries in my camera and, a sunset to photograph, as well as some fine building’s on my way to the station and the train home. But, before anymore travelling, I had a smoke and, a double whiskey at The Liffey, after taking a picture of the sign.



After eating, I began writing, while watching the last in the series , seemingly, of ‘Stargate Universe’ and a good new episode of ‘Sanctuary’.



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‘Anyway, what’s the point of having potential, if you’re not going to step, when you’re needed… ’ ~ Eli



*

I went to visit Karl on Wednesday evening: and, he seemed to be pleased to see me. His Mother is to be cremated on Tuesday next and, I fully intend to be at the service. And, as we spoke about a myriad things, many seeking distraction from the obvious, we still found ourselves talking of it and, the similarities between their deaths; far too many in fact, for me to feel comfortable with. As it was, when I left Karls, we’d had a few smiles… and, I’d left him with a few episodes of ‘No Ordinary Family’, while he left me with some of my favourite shows, like ‘Stargate Universe’.



‘There is no mission, other than getting these people home,’ ~ Colonel Young.



‘It was never about going home,’ ~ Rush



‘It’s about getting us where we’re going. And, that’s the mission.’

After all the sun we’ve had of late, the rain on Monday was most welcome, although there wasn’t enough of it. Yet, with the wind dropping, Dad was able to go out and trim the much of the Beech hedge in the back garden, as I gathered up the fallen leaves into one of two thick yellow plastic bags he’d been using; and then took them to the local waste disposal unit in Clatterbridge. As I’d tipped the bag up, into the large industrial mulcher, I’d said to the worker there, “Oh I do like that smell” referring to the small of the pine trees being ground down. And, the big fellow, in blue-overalls had smiled and said, “Yes and, I like the smell of Lavender. I’d grinned and told him, “I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Then once home, I washed and changed, before leaving to walk to the dole, gaining really sore knees on my return home. And still the fellow over the road continues his renovations to the bungalow, he bought over seven months ago, causing my Dad no end of hassles getting out of his own drive and, making a real mess of our end of the road. And, we’ve noticed, he’s concreting the front over, which infers more cars, to accompany the extension and the drive and, we’d thought the daughters of the woman who’d owned the place previously were awkward. He beats them easily. Damn sod!

Come the evening, I took my back for a lie-down, watching the last two part of ‘The Hand Of Fear’, a Doctor Who story from 1975, being shown as a tribute to the late Elizabeth Sladen, Tom Bakers Doctor’s companion in the story.

The story had illustrated one thing to me, whether it be ‘The Sarah Jane Adventures’, or those earlier shows, she was vivacious, fun and will be sorely missed.

Come Thursday I put tubi-grip on my left knee and dressed for the forecast rain, then took enough painkillers to manage my walk to sign on.



Well, it hardly rained at all and, I’d been late, due to the back and a well-needed sit down. But, the member of staff I saw under the ‘new’ signing system, is not as strict as she used to be, as she’s one of the six taking early redundancy in five/six weeks.



And, for that reason, I’d not had a problem… As it is, I can only imagine that it had been someone else, I’d have lost a days dole money, or something like that.



It did rain a little, on my return home. And, I had rested my back awhile or so, before making my way to voluntary work.



The night had been pretty good at first, with the girls Chloe and Sarah being young and bouncy, Roger being suitably bossy and Shirley being busy and efficient. Even Amy, was good to work with at first, then she came out with a remark out of the blue that just threw me, goodstyle: “I don’t like … just … curl up and die…”



With Karl’s Mum dead a few day’s earlier and, my backache, I really wasn’t in the mood for Amy’s games, so asked, “What the fuck do you mean?”



She had muttered something about it being a joke. Well, it and her manner was not something I found funny, so went quiet. I had wanted to walk, but there was an evening to be had, so could not. And, all-of-that, from ‘Ms Politically correct.’



As it happens, later she had call to complain to Roger that I’d ignored her panic, when there’d been a kick-off. Well, that’d been strange, as the kick-off had ‘happened’, whilst I’d been outside, talking to a crying client, scabbing a mobile call to his Mum, he’d said. And, that was just to the right of the supposed kick-off, as I had later explained to Roger. Essentially, she wanted to cause me trouble.



I went even quieter after that and, when we left the church, I left by the back way, refusing to walk anyone back to the station, except for my foul mood and myself.



Friday morning was The Azda and the weekly shopping and, an opportunity to note the small increases to our basic basket; each week, a few pence more.



Come the afternoon, on a coffee and tobacco hunt, I met Graham, the street-cleaner and my friend, who invited me round to his come the evening, to de-stress, after seeing me lose it with a driver who went passed me, using a mobile phone.



So, I took round one of my favourite films and we watched ‘Machete’, on his big screen teevee and smoked and come the end of the night, I had felt suitable de-stressed.



Saturday morning was an up early sort of day, again; as I rose to prepare my windowsill, prior to Dad painting it, after doing the washing. Needless to say, no sooner had I hand-washed my net curtain and got it on the line, it began to rain.



Thankfully, I had something to look forward to, new ‘Doctor Who!’

It was good to see Lucie on Wednesday, who’d called in the evening to get her ‘dose of Neil’, as she phrased it, which in turn was a paraphrase of something I say of my few friends.



Lucie and I went on a confidence course together. To this day Lucie acknowledges I’d done better on the course than she did. This time I saw her, she told me that it had been a ‘bad time’ for her back then…



As we’d spoken I’d talked of the negativity I’ve encountered of late, which was something that Sylvia our confidence class tutor had taught us to look out for, as we try to wring positive change for ourselves.



When she left we’d exchanged a hug at the door, which reminded me, I do welcome physical contact still, albeit ‘just a hug.’

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xxEmaeraldxx
11:05 May 07 2011

Really? you needed to go on a course like that? You certaintly don't sound like a man lacking in confidence! :)

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DestroyingAngel
20:34 May 07 2011

Hugs are great!

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vr hates me, keeps throwing me off; my bestfriends mother died yesterday, in the same place mine did last year...

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DestroyingAngel
08:30 May 06 2011

Im so sorry *hugs*

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xxEmaeraldxx
11:04 May 07 2011

That is sad for you and your family, sorry for your loss Neill..

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I heard from the one who disappointed me, didn't read it, but forwarded it back, as she swore~ with the subject line changed to 'fucking language.'

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xxEmaeraldxx
23:06 May 02 2011

Mm, maybe its French?

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DestroyingAngel
16:02 May 03 2011

God damn potty mouths lmao :P

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reason I'm so wary 'bout what was said to me, is someone has shown me a way to get published and, I'm feeling nervous and insecure.

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SinginGhost88
18:43 May 02 2011

Publish away!!!

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DestroyingAngel
16:01 May 03 2011

PUBLISH!!! Sheesh, man lol :P

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hellkid
20:57 May 05 2011

you really should get published! ^_^

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Come Friday, whilst everyone and their dog seemed to be full of the old patriotic fervour, I took myself for a walk, on a fine beautiful day, thankful that the inhaler and the antibiotics seem to be working. And, all-in-all, I had a blinkin marvellous day, ending the evening off with two episodes of ‘No Ordinary Family’, with the last one of the two having a really upbeat ending. I actually had a much-needed early night.



Saturday was spent gardening in the sun, a light breeze playing on my face. And then, there’d been part two of last weeks Doctor Who story…