Riot is the language of the unheard…

My cousin has written down some notes about Minneapolis.

I feel like rioting. At our council building, at a certain letting agency. All my neighbours for 15 years, have at some point behaved criminally toward me. Except the Slovenian lady. Even the owner. He was not a good neighbour to have.

I could riot at the idiots who have flocked here and jumped off 200 ft rocks into the sea and needed air ambulances, the 2 who nearly drowned at the beach and needed paramedics. A forest fire is still smouldering because idiots took one use bbqs and were careless, and then a second fire with another disposable bbq.

This is the problem of living where there is beauty. I met some on the quay from Birmingham!!! They’ve come from London in droves. All local police and every other emergency service is stretched to breaking point. The crime I reported hasn’t been looked at.

I gather trolls daily, it seems.

I didn’t water the garden this morning. I didn’t wake until after 7 am. I’ll do it this evening. I know why I started the mornings – I am not tired out by the pain in my ankle or ribs. My ribs are much better though. Just very tender.

It seems so noisy out there now that people are doing too much too soon. Our death rate is still in triple figures while the rest of Europe is below 34.

What a mess up.

But I have my gorgeous garden. My haven.

Bees are there all the time. Butterflies and moths. A refuge for biodiversity. I will taste my strawberries again. They should be really sweet by now.

A poem published…

Outrage

Riots are the language of the unheard

If you are silent you are the oppressor

Broken glass is a thing, not a life taken

If you feel outrage at the riots

you are deaf to the pain

not mattering is agonizing

Too many murders of black people normalized

the rage sears a brand on my heart

I will riot with them, they are unheard

What did you expect? Quit the outrage

murder is not OK, never ever

your silence enrages me, condemns you

A surreal day…

This day has been long and surreal. My ankle and leg hurt. They should be getting better. The bruising on my back is reducing but is still tender very tender.

My breathing is fairly OK but has been wheezy once or twice.

Realising the reason my life has been so stressed for more than a year is so devastating. It has impacted my health, given me anxiety, and it so from a very sick mind. I know how sick one’s mind has to be to do stuff like that.

I got plans for my neighbourhood yesterday. They want to turn the whole neighbourhood into a smaller Manhatten Island. I am sick to the stomach and everyone I know wants to move away.

I already want to for other reasons, but I’m not well enough to move. And my garden. I love it too much. I could not live in a flat. It would need a roof terrace or something for me to even consider it. But I can’t make a move. Coming here 15 years ago, it took me two years to recover.

I have contacted a local news station to come and do a story about how the planning office screwed me over and I’ve launched a campaign to get planning law changed.

I am so weary. I watered my garden at daybreak again, but dozed afterwards.

Someone tried to get into my Amazon account again. I haven’t used it since I bought a thank you gift for ex neighbours, one of whom spends time writing malicious letters about me.

So I gave it to Michael, but I’m sure it got chucked out. She even wanted to read our emails to each other. That comes from a very sick mind indeed.

And someone is using my Apple ID which I have never used . I keep getting emails about this. One just arrived.

And so it goes. I am enjoying the weather. My brain feels like it might belong to a goldfish. I forget everything within two seconds.

I wrote two articles about George Floyd and how Minneapolis should be a reckoning for the US. The executions of black people by shooting, by suffocation etc has to stop. Long ago it should have stopped.

The Statue Of Liberty should sink her knees weeping, and Monument Valley should crack and crumble. Darkness should cover the sun, and the moon should hide.

It Would Have Been Better

Poem published.

You should have pushed my skirt up

it would have been better

you wanted to, you told me after

half expecting you would

my panties were removed while you came home

My legs wrapped round you, carry me upstairs

it would have been better

my reserve chokes me, I wanted to be ravished

as you did when I took my skirt off upstairs

so conventional, I prefer haste and heat

like we always have, if you’d pushed it up

it would have been better

you like my skirts and my legs, tanned, long,

you love ravishing me but less in bed please

because it’s better


Poem published.

I have a new troll…



Yep, a new one. They get more stupid as time goes by.

They think I confronted men who are earning on Thursday. No no no.

I was peacefully protesting when these builders started harassing me, filming me, and generally acting like idiots. They slandered me down a phone.

The police told them to shut up and walked home with me while I sobbed. They made me a cup of tea and listened while I explained my reason for protest. They were completely on my side.

Yesterday, I got a call from the office who employs the builders. She told me that no woman should be near builders and she was concerned for my well being.

So, Nigel, mind your own business.

Treading water and less pain…

This morning I got a phone call from the construction company office. She was concerned about me. She told me to stay away from the builders as they are ‘vile’. I already am not going back, but I so appreciated her humanity. No ‘this is not my business’ and she directed me to the appropriate place and said she would phone the site and tell them to not speak to any one. Few managers are like that, eh Helen.?

My cousin phoned for our weekly chat. It’s always good to chat and laugh with her.

Apart from that it’s seemed a long day. I watered the garden just after daybreak.

On waking, my ankle hurt so much but it is less now. Also the bruising on my back is less painful. This is much welcomed.

My protest…

So this morning I heard activity on the houses going up opposite me. I went over to protest. They are so incompetent that I easily got inside the site. No one objected. There was a saw lying on the ground. I picked it up and pointed out that I could get hurt with this thing lying around. (One of them later told police that I had threatened to cut my wrists.)

I called out to people and told them the effect it would have on my life. Some people really cared and others laughed and sneered. I stopped a bus, and they were lovely which I appreciated. Then, moving off, they became putrid.

I could not get through to the press. So in due course two female cops arrived. They told my abusers to shut up. One walked home with me while the other drove round the block in order to park in my road.

I was close to hysteria as protest is a right in this country. The police were lovely. They were on my side. One made me tea, and joined in a chat about all sorts. They were angry that I had been abused. When they left they went to give the builders a piece of their mind.

I had an x-ray. Five in all, a senior radiologist was consulted twice. Nothing is broken – it was not immobilized.

I’ve been writing and crying. I have contacted as many people in the council as possible. I will contact my area news station, radio and TV.

I have poppies in bloom. I ate a wild strawberry this morning and they need a few more days. My tomato plants are huge, I will remove some leaves so sun ripens the fruit.

I’m thrilled. I have purple/blue nemesis, red geums, white gypsophelia, forget me nots, Mexican daisies, osteospernum. I am thrilled to bits. My figs are thriving. My rambling rose is growing well and also my jasmin.

X-Ray and hot pain…

I’ve lost a few pigs. Only a few are welcome back.

So I contacted my surgery and a doctor I’ve never met phoned me back. He kept cutting me off, and I noticed he did it with the paramedic he sent out.

Yes. There are paramedics at my medical centre. But she carries no equipment. So not that impressive.

But she decided what I already knew. An X-ray is a good idea. I may have a tiny bone fractured or broken.

I said I will only go to an appointment as I’ve protected myself since March 7, and I’m not putting myself at risk in bug city.

So I was to phone a number given to me. I did. I told I had to wait until they heard from my doctor. They would call me.

Except they didn’t. I asked my surgery when the doctor had contacted X-ray. Two minutes after my call to them. Yes. I know.

About ten days ago, my gum was bruised by the edge of a banana chip. I love them. It hurt for about four days. I was surprised. My magical tongue just found that it cut the gum just where tooth protrudes and my tooth needed dental care. Now I fear the tooth may need major work. If this is the case I shall have it removed. I cannot cope with dental work. I had one removed years ago because I was told I needed a ‘bridge’, whatever that is. She said, I can’t take out your tooth. I said yes she could because as she rightly pointed out it was my tooth.

I never had a problem with my teeth until first became pregnant. I gave all my reserves of calcium to my baby. This is said to be a myth, but one gets free dental care for the first year after giving birth. And I know other mums who experienced similar.

My back is still like a sponge. It still hurts a lot.

I got almost all my gates painted on the outside. (very painful but sitting). I was so happy. Then I realised it needs a second coat. ***** bleep bleep bleepity bleep.

My blog is read by nosey parkers looking for stuff they won’t find, eh Helen???

Still suffering and the rudeness!!!

Yesterday evening I was coming home from looking for my friend, and yet again my neighbours had a visitor’s car in our shared access. I was cross. I”ve put up with a lot and smiled.

I went in to ask if it could be moved as they don’t/can’t ask for my consent.In lockdown that car was there all day one day. Which was illegal.

And it turns out that last night there were two visitors in the house which is also illegal.

So a door was slammed in face. Rude. The illegal guest came out and started bossing me around in a thick foreign accent. Rude.

I come into my garden and I hear them talking about me. A language I don’t speak, but obvious. Rude.

They have repeatedly turned up their TV so loud that I cannot think. I suppose they think that having it louder makes it easier to understand. Stupid.

Their dog has yapped maddengly.

What is it about that house? Oh well yes, they were written to by a very malicious former neighbour but she threw stuff over my fence with no provacation.

The only one that was never rude to me was Anya, a lady from Slovenia. And her departure is blamed on me to with a lie.

The owner gave me problems too, a very rude man. A neighbour across the road told me he has mental health problems or learning difficulties.

I had to call the community police a few times when he was intransigently threatening. I was terrified him.

This morning I awoke with pain from ankle to hip. I somehow got myself out to water my garden and watched the beauty of water sinking into the soil.

It was 5am. I used watering cans that I had filled yesterday.

I called for a doctor at 8.30 am. I slept from just before 10am until 1.30pm.

I am waiting for a call back from X-ray for an appointment. I kept myself safe since before lockdown as it was too late. I will not compromise myself now.

I think I will go and sit and paint my gates.

I know some lovely people. Why do I get the horrid ones next to me?

Foxes in the neighbourhood…

This meme made me smile.

So now my whole left leg hurts from foot to hip. I took a nap and woke to pain in my foot and leg. Hot and throbbing.

My daughter was firing questions at me while on the phone. I don’t wake easily. At first I dreamt it. Then didn’t understand where I was. I see my daughter on her phone and think I’m in hospital.

It dawns on me that I need to reply. But her question makes no sense. She wants the name of my medicine. She should know. I sorted out my prescription last week.

I tell her my medicine through a fogged brain and dry mouth. I don’t understand anything. She asks about painkillers. I’m not understanding why.

She starts reading medicine from my nightstand. She ends the call.

She tells me the pharmacy have had no prescription for me since March. No… I remind her she got my script from them last month. She starts telling me she’s solved it for me. Solved what…?

So my leg is hurting like mad. I’ve got a freezing cloth on my ankle. My thigh I took a painkiller.

Painting gate was worst idea ever. But I need to save money. My daughter has left.

I may need an ambulance, I have no other way to get to hospital.

We have a family of foxes in a neighbouring field. They leave poo in my garden. There’s a fox vixen further afield. She had to be destroyed.