A tough week…

My resignation from SWAST has been the gossip and prying of my town on Facebook. I wish I had altered my profile settings when I took a step back on my humanitarian work. What empty minds people have.

I am so fed up with people who argue the toss when they are wrong. And don’t bother to check facts. They are destined to crash and burn. And wreck lives. So to the gardener who was verbally aggressive to me about what I know as fact, here is my email to you referencing the Consumer Act 2015 Section 3.3


Services must be performed with “reasonable care and skill”[16] and also “within a reasonable time”.[17]

The Act also ensures that any statement a trader makes when a consumer is either deciding to enter into the contract or making a decision about the service after entering into the contract is now a binding contractual term. Previously such terms may only have given rise to an action in the tort of misrepresentation but now a claim may be brought for breach of contract.[18] This means that a claimant’s case will generally be easier to prove and expectation damages may be awarded rather than compensation based on the principle of restitutio ad integrum.[19]On top of the usual remedies consumers now also have the right to repeat performance[20] and price reduction.[21]
Civil Law on overhanging plant growth

Establishing Ownership of Trees

The tree belongs to the person upon whose land it has originally grown. Even if its branches or, worse still, its roots have begun to grow over or into a neighbour’s territory, it belongs to the landowner where the tree was originally planted. Even if the tree bears fruit or flowers on branches which overhang into your land, it’s an offence under the Theft Act 1968 to keep them or to take cuttings of flowers, for example.

Obviously, many neighbours will not tend to worry about that too much but should a neighbour, for example, see you collecting apples from their tree even though the branches have grown onto your side, they are legally entitled to ask you to return them.

Overhanging Branches

If the branches of a neighbour’s tree start to grow over to your side, you can cut them back to the boundary point between you and your neighbour’s property, as long as the tree is not under a tree preservation order. If it is, you’ll need to seek further clarification. However, the branches and any fruit on them which you may have cut down on your side still belong to the tree owner so they can ask you to return them.

I was so upset I could not get home alone. I cannot abide conflict and you refuse to deal with your anger. You need to because you have a child now and she heard your anger, That’s bad parenting.

I decided to visit as I had not heard from my real friend. Your back door was open. I needed to go into the park, needing healing from a mean editor.

I left your parent’s home very upset. I did not get home on my own.


Asked out on a date…

Today has been a day of getting nowhere. Until after business hours. I called the agency to do with the person spewed anger all over me. I got stonewalled.

This caused me much frustration. My cleaner came and sorted my life out, in that the cleaning I can’t do is done, my laundry hung, a birthday card to my cousin sent.

My cleaner is now going back to be with his wife because her grandmother is dying. He has had such a hard time with grief recently.

On things are going well. In a steady, slow way I am building followers and readers of my articles. It is quite tenuous getting started, but now that I write for a publisher, it gets a bit easier.

A friend has asked me on a date. I’m worried because I am not attracted to him. I enjoy him as a friend.

Tomorrow I must sort out where I get my prescriptions filled. The pharmacist I was using nearby closed and my records were sent to a huge supermarket of health and beauty products. They don’t deliver. I must go back to the pharmacy I left.

It’s all so much work. It is relentless it seems. Just trying to live.


Still not great…

Today is a better day, although I can’t say it’s been good. It’s pouring with rain and the wind is estimated to be around 80mph. They reckon a month’s worth of rain will fall this weekend.

I feel for the people in flood areas. Techically, I am in one, and I’ve had lots of flood warnings by phone. But the waves won’t reach me. The harbour wall was raised last summer, so now when one is out on the Quay there is a low parapet along the edge, instead of a drop into the sea.

Earlier, I realised I’m due at the theatre tonight. I thought it was in March. I don’t mind braving the elements, but I’m in no mood. On the other hand, it’s music I love, and seeing people, both of which are healing.

Also, I can get cash and some food. The pros outweigh the cons but I feel so ick and bleeeaaaagggghhhhh. As Snoopy might say.

I got some housework done, and ate something. The first I’ve eaten since Thursday. I find it hard to eat when someone spews anger over me. Someone phoned me about that, and I was aghast that the angry person had lied about several things in the last few months. I hate losing faith in people like this.

I will tell the truth to my own hurt.

My daughter came at some point. She helped with a few tiny things around the house. She did not present her best self, and said some hurtful things.

I just got an email to say one of my articles on medium has been curated. That means a publisher on medium has published it and now I am one of their writers. Live Your Life On Purpose publishes articles about slices of your life and how you live it on purpose. Not just going one day to the next, only having a job to pay the bills. Having no resilience or passion.

Meditation still works for the nerve in my leg. I have pain elsewhere, and I have a skin condition that is weeping.


A day that was a write off…

Today someone spewed their anger all over me.

I’ve cried a lot. I haven’t planted my plants. The postman didn’t come today. I wanted to apologise to him.

I have been writing. It’s supposed to be healing and cathartic, but I only wish today was over and I could go to bed.

The wind from the incoming storm is gathering strength. I can hear it growling and then dying, repeatedly. The harbour looks very rough.

There has been no more work on the houses that are meant to go up. I heard the name plate on the house of the garden where these teeny weeny postage stamp houses are going, has been pulled off and smashed on the ground. There’s a lot of anger about these plans.

So I haven’t achieved much in my car wreck of a day. I feel an utter failure as I’ve found no joy today, no gratitude and yet I’m not confined in a cell with no window.

It’s not lost on me that today is Valentines Day. I wonder if a certain man has given a card to the woman he left for me. Twice.

I don’t miss him anymore. I just want to stop thinking about him a few times each week. It’s wasted thinking.


This Odyssey

Time has moved on and I’ve been procrastinating. I’ve had two viruses, each following a day out. Teary eyes, earache, fever, sore throat etc. Is this the new normal at this stage in my journey?

These things are not the most difficult challenges in my life. When I had akinetic mutism I had to learn to speak again. That is, I had to relearn the muscle movements/tongue position for every sound I make. Every word had to be mapped in my brain again. I cannot tell you the frustration I felt making blurry, slurred sounds for what seemed years. People thought I was mentally deficient. They would talk to me slowly and deliberately and I wanted to punch them in the face. Even if I would have, I could not because my muscles all over my body were having to relearn movement and accuracy. It was anger that drove me on.

Anger is neutral. You can use it to accomplish tough tasks or you can let it eat you up. Mostly, anger got me learning to speak. When one is tired, some sounds are even harder to make. ‘Bah’ is the sound that takes most effort. How many times did I ask for my ‘mook’ or have a ‘marth’. The intense inner explosive feelings are impossible to describe. To be unable to overcome in the short-term such hindrances and confinements, the feeling of non-control of one’s body, the despisement of pity or non-understanding from others. The self-hatred and self-loathing which were only dissipated when I slept or was carried in my Dad’s arms. I cannot describe it. And despite such powerful feelings, one is passive in the face of the seeming futility of it all and the exhausting amount of energy it takes to simply try.

It took me five years to speak ‘normally’. Most people don’t notice anything about my speech unless I am tired or very upset. Sometimes people think I’ve had some drinks when I am tired. I can live with that now. It doesn’t fill me with joy, but I can live with it