Sailing 1

Although my initial interest in sailing came from sailing with the churchwarden, which was only a few sailing sessions, and he was usually sexually intrusive during those trips, I quickly progressed, while still living with him, to sailing elsewhere.

I joined a sailing group, and for a long time I didn’t know they met every week but thought that meetings and sailings were only as advertised, so I missed out a bit.
But I had my first real Big Boat sail with them, to Guernsey and overnight there.

Andeventually, when I knew sailing was available every week, I got enthusiastic, dinghy and big boat sailing, and lovely people who took away some of the pain of the churchwarden situation.

I was sometimes simply too tense to be on a dinghy with others, so sometimes I would go on the guard boat, which was great fun, a little RIB, high speeds and sharp moves of course! 🙂

Then there were trips to France and chausey on the yacht, I always knew with all my heart that I was very lucky to be able to share in these trips, and now that the distress has cleared a bit, I can treasure those times.

Dinghy qualifications:

I was delighted to be able to do the States-run dinghy training courses.
I was more nervous of the other people on the course so every evening I was wracked with nerves.

The courses were run a week at a time, every evening and at the weekend for extra practice, and though some of the others would go in the club for a drink afterwards, I had no interest in that.

It was a question of going down to St. Aubin’s harbour and either walking if the tide was out or waiting for the RIB if it wasn’t, for the course every day.

I did level 1 and 2, which were offered at St. Aubins, and would have done level 3 with the qualified instructor who I used to borrrow a boat from for my solo practice.

One of the complications of my course was that the churchwarden had a boat at St. Aubins, the boat I used to sail with him, and he and his wife and JM accused me of stalking him because I was down there, which was very much JM false accusation style and very upsetting, and I told JM that there was ample proof as to why I was there, but she wouldn’t reply. It is funny how many times she refused to read my side of things once she got in with the Dean and churchwarden couple, even though you have seen her emails about how the churchwarden had done wrong.
I wonder if she was told he had a history?
Anyway, I felt I was permenantly on trial with her accusations, hence my defensiveness and trying to cover every single thing with the disinterested diocese.

 Anyway, back to sailing, there was a bit of ego on the first course, but in the end we were all doing well and working well, and we all passed level one, and it was fun.

Level 2 was tougher, and I was frequently out solo sailing on a borrowed boat to try and ‘do my homework’ in my spare time,  I felt a bit useless and incompetent and not in control, but nonetheless, I survived level 2.

What amuses me to remember was that we had three people with huge egos on level 2, so much that they hadn’t bothered with level 1.

One was a girl who claimed she raced dinghys with her ‘partner’, but she couldn’t gybe, and I said to her ‘Is that how you gybe when you are racing?’
Now that sounds sharp but she had spent the course bossing the rest of us about and boasting, but I could gybe because I practiced frequently on my solo work, and she couldn’t.
She lost a peg or two and went on the other boat after that! 🙂

The other two who amused us all were a really very puffed up couple, never sailed but decided level two was a better boast.

they came onto the boats stating how they were ‘members of the yacht club’ and had been voted in, did they need reminding that all new members need voting in by a proposer and seconder?

And so it went on, and we had to hear of the foriegn countries and all of it, a bit like the Lihous, that desparate insecurity that attempts to belittle others. I guess it is human nature, we all do it a bit, as the instructor quietly said.
But these two were hard work, sandals showing not nice feet, and their real fear of sailing that led to them not wanting to do certain exercises so they let the rest of us do extra, which was fine, me and the college lad from level 1 were getting on well and by then we were doing a lot of the work, there was also a lovely tutor from one of the secondary schools on the course, and he was good to talk to, so it wasn’t all angst.

We used to finish when it was getting dark at night, and then we had the treacherous landings and berthings sometimes. 🙂

The weather was very tricky during level 1 and 2, with level 1 frequently becalmed and level 2 too windy, hence the Saturday exercises to make up for some we had to call off during the week.

The boats we sailed were Lazer Stratos, and they had lead weights to stabilise them, and the instructor said that this made them technically small yachts rather than dinghys, but they were dinghy enough. lovely boats but not singlehanders. The lead weight was supposed to make the boat uncapsizable.

I used to sail a Pico for my solo practice.

During the very windy spell, we nearly managed to capsize an uncapsizable boat! the gusts of wind were too strong and we were heading back in, a gust caught us and we had to go about, a bit out of control and with the inexperienced couple terrified and panicking, the rest of us brought the boat under control but there was a lot of water in it!

So, we passed level 2, and I went on to start training for level 3, solo, but 2010 with the collapse of my world and health meant I got into serious difficulties out on the water, and that was the end of my sailing.
I now cannot sail due to the lack of control and movement in my lower back and legs, I can’t make a boat go about and would be a liability.

More sailing posts another time.

Happier Times -The Island’s attractions, part 1

When I had been in Jersey a short while I was given a card that entitled me to free or discounted entry to attractions and activities.

I remember I was so keen to do everything. I had been in such severe poverty in Dorset that I had rarely been able to relax and have fun, in fact I had been rigid with worry so much of the time and without enough money for essentials, let alone leisure activities.

I remember going to the ‘Amaizing Maze’? In St. Peter?
I remember that the young woman overseeing it was Eastern European and seemed baffled by a lone young adult wanting to go round the maze.
And I remember getting a bit panicky in the maze and some of the clues not making sense, but nonetheless I came out the other side. 🙂

Of course the museums were a delight as far as I was concerned, call me boring but I love museums and find history fascinating, I can never learn or retain dates or eras, but I find it all amazing.

I went round Hougue Bie and the collections they have there, I went round Hamptonne and the War Tunnels, (which scared me a little bit) and the Maritime museum, which was of course my favourite, and of course Elizabeth and Gorey Castles.
I found Jersey History fascinating.

Other things that the card allowed were discounted water-sports, so  I had the joy of going jet-skiing, that was amazing fun.
It was a funny old day when I went jet-skiing, I was the only person going, and an ex-navy lad was going to go with me to instruct me, and then a teenage girl who knew the lad came along because her school was closed due to a contageous illness, so we went out there, the girl went with the lad,  jet-skis are very fast so I was nervous, but I started enjoying it, but the other jet-ski sucked up a jellyfish into the engine so they had to stop and try and sort it out!

Not all bad then, a reference sent to Bob Hill last year to clarify how I am

It is notable that less problems occur with friends who allow me space and do not panic when I can’t cope, and who do not get involved intensely or as a panacea for their own troubles. This couple are admirable in what they have done for me when everyone and everything else was hurting me as a result of Diocese actions

Mrs ****** *******

* ****** Road

******* *****

******** *****

**** ***

Tel. ********

Dear Mr Hill

A reference for ****** *****

I have known ***** now for over 2 years. We first met in St ******* ** church. she had come in for a warm. We chatted for a while and told me she was homeless. so I invited her to come home with us (my husband ******) for a bite to eat. Since then we have become close friends, she stays often stays over night.

During this time she has spoken of her past. It’s quite amazing that she pushed herself through College and

gained a certificate in Agriculture and Horticulture after such a volatile childhood, I so admire her.

With a combination of Asperges, Autism and Asthma there comes frustration of not being able to express

ones feelings and comprehend a situation which invitably results in anger and fear.

*******’s experience in Jersey  damaged her profoundly she is stuggling to cope. She desparetly needs a voice. Until the ‘Jersey’ incident is addressed properly and investigated in depth, I believe she will continue to be a vunerable and frieghtened young woman. Her plight is getting considerably worse.

******’s manners are first class, she’s respectful and never askes for anything, is totally trustworthy and honest. I know she’s very caring and gentle as she gives her fellow homeless companions a shoulder to cry on, she listens…….I pray that someone will listen to her

Yours Sincerly

Mrs ******* ******

Happier Posts, JM, the Village fete

Before JM started being sent curates to train, she used to take me to many services and events, presumably as a companion and assistant, as I had many little errands to run, such as fetching chairs from the church room and getting things from the car, fetching and carrying etc.

JM never actually prepared or told me when she started getting curates that she would stop taking me along for assistance, usually I would go and help her at the old people’s home, but she turned up with her curate and did not even explain to me that she would not be taking me to help, which caused a problem for me, more so that she maligned me to the curates, gave her opinionated opinion, which did not include me being autistic but did include how she ‘rescued’ me, she never told them or anyone else in the Benefice about her step-daughter and how I was the spitting image of her step-daughter etc.

Anyway, before she started getting curates, she used to take me to the fete or meet me there, and the fete became part of my life, in a smaller way than the show, but nonetheless, part of life. I first went to the fete with JM when I was at college.

Because I became friends with people in the village and people who worked at the fete, I became a helper in a small way, mainly helping with the tea stall, as well as accompanying JM round the fete.
In the early days, I was so ingrained in my background, where ‘respectable people’ would shun my family and say we were a shame, I was sure that no-one who spoke to JM would want me around, so I would feel unsure of myself and would move off while JM spoke to them.
JM took this as me being hostile, and when I tried to explain that I felt I was out of place, she said I was being an ‘inverted snob’, when actually, I did not know what that was and was simply acting on what I had learned from experience, in this wealthy district, most of the people were very comfortable and would not have liked my family, so I just thought I didn’t belong.
Although I grew more comfortable with a lot of these people, and some were very nice to me, it is true that a majority did not understand what was wrong with me, and how could they? In the early days I didn’t even understand, and even to this day, the puzzle of autism and other disorders is still being worked on.
Although now those people shun me because of the terrible reputation the Diocese and JM both gave me to cover up their wrongs.
And it is true that they would believe clergy and Diocesan staff over me, of course.

Anyway, let’s go back to those lovely sunny summer fete days.
I remember the trail of coins for charity, the village school dance display, the stalls and the bouncy castle, the book stall that was my favourite! And the tea stall, where I waited on tables, did cups of tea, cleared tables, washed up, it was great fun! 🙂
FM would usually join us for the fete too, with his camera and he would either sulk or be smiling, depending on if there had been a row with me or JM or her Mother or whoever. In public and church he was always smooth and smiling and talking in a gentle voice, so different from his violent shouting and slamming about in the house when he was angry.

I remember taking JM’s hat off her head one day, and FM was there, all dressed up in his sports jacket, and he said ‘The Vicar must have some decorum!’
But I did not know what decorum was, so I thought it was JM’s hat.

Long live those sunny summer days that are all gone!

The BBQs:

There were often garden parties and BBQs in the benefice, various people, including my friends and the youth group would have BBQs, and so I got invites.
As with everything, I was usually nervous and limited in communication, but I loved to be there and have fun.
If my friends were doing the BBQ, then I would often help. I remember how exhausted I got, helping at a BBQ and swim party and how I realised then that interaction made me tired. It was another piece of the big jigsaw, each little realization adding up to more understanding of my condition.

And there were several village and benefice BBQs every year, two of which involved a walk to get to the BBQ, and a big meet up.
One of those was organized by a family in one of the villages, and the other was a benefice thing, where the villages all walked and met up at a farm in the middle and had a service followed by a BBQ, I used to help set up for the service, putting hay bales out, and I also recall doing some form of reading or prayer for that service, and also sidesman’s duties.
In case I hadn’t mentioned it, JM would get me to do the occasional reading or prayer if she had a slot that no-one else had taken or if she was left short of a reader at the last minute, just as she would get me to do sidesmans duties if she was short-staffed.

I have loads of photo’s of one of the benefice BBQs, but I daren’t put them on here because of Identity. There are some of me handing out service sheets, some of me chatting to one of the Readers, some of me with my (then) friends and JM. Mainly these were taken by FM, who had been angrily and obviously ignoring me for months and that day decided to break his silence by offering me a glass of wine at the BBQ.
JM always said ignore FM if he is sulking, because he sulked with her and her parents and everyone, and he would stop when he realised no-one cared.
FM was always prolifically photographing church events.

I will stop there because things like Carol Singing and other Winter things cannot be imagined after such summery events and that will make another post.

MIND outings and socials- Happier memories, early 20s

I self-referred to MIND in my early 20s to ensure I wasn’t too isolated and to encourage myself to socialize.

Because, just as I have done now, I developed a liking for being alone in my home, alone, no company, just drifting, and I know, however much I like drifting, I need to keep trying to spend time with others.

The Social groups were overwhelming for me at first, too much for me, so I would hide in a side room, and a support worker would either keep me company or coax me out to join the group, she was  a very nice support worker, who remained supportive and friendly until she left to move away.

It took me a while to feel safe in that group, and at first I just stayed in the corner and trekked to the urn for more tea every few minutes 🙂

The breakthrough was when the male support worker, another safe, helpful person, took to sitting with me and drawing cartoons and playing noughts and crosses. This progressively grew until a whole group of us were playing noughts and crosses, drawing cartoons and making each other laugh by captioning each other’s cartoons 🙂 

We progressed to me being able to play pool or ‘killer’ with them as well, which was great! 🙂 These skills, simple as they were, did help me.

I joined some music sessions and various MIND things but was busy with work and other things and didn’t keep anything apart from social group and outings up.

I made a friend or two at social, but everyone had problems and some of them never got my name right, nor did I learn everyone’s name, but it was good to be in a social setting where I wasn’t the lone vulnerable person in a church of england church.

I made a friend with an excitable young woman who was so like my old friend at college, so similar, and as at college, we made each other hyper and silly.

Outings were fun, we had a number of outings to the coast, enjoying strolling, sightseeing, going out on motor boat trips, and the usual seaside things.

We had a look round a historic village one time, and we often went to a market in the next county, it all added variety to a basic hand-to-mouth lifestyle.

Some of the trips I found harder were the ones that included the pub, the driver, who was not really part of MIND, jeered because I didn’t want to go in the pub for a drink with the others, but back then, I had only been in a pub a few times in my life, when I was 18 and 19 for Birthday meals with the people I lodged with, and for two of my brothers’ wedding receptions, and those were meals, not drinking times, I did not want to go into a pub and drink, but during a MIND trip, we simply stopped at a pub, and I was unprepared and bewildered.

The other time I found difficult, which was otherwise a good trip, was when we went out on a boat, it was a boat that did trips for disabled people, and we went out, but I was with the nice female support worker, and one of the staff was flirting with her and chatting to her, leaning over us and leaning in, and even then, and even now, I cannot cope with being leaned over or stood over if I am sitting, because I feel too vulnerable, especially if it is a man.

So I was getting anxious, and I tried to get away, and the man scornfully said to the support worker ‘I suppose you are used to this’, as if I was an animal, no feelings, no ears, such a wrong attitude, and he was causing the problem.

Sometimes living with the conditions I have is like that, extra hurts from being misunderstood on top of the daily struggles to live independently.

Anyway, never mind the less happy bits, we had fun, we had great fun, and I am grateful for it, I am grateful to anything that breaks up this difficult life and gives it some colour.

We went to a football match once, now that was fun, although we had to stand up all the time.

We had a great time, and on the way to the match, we had to stop for fuel for the minibus, and there in the petrol station was someone dressed as Elvis, that caused us much amusement! 🙂

One time I attempted to play squash with another MIND client, but I couldn’t afford to keep that up, and I was too shy really.

MIND did a great thing in helping me to communicate and interact and socialize, but they didn’t help me towards further diagnosis or treatment, aside from the social side of things, they didn’t really notice me, and despite me speaking to them, they kept wrongly addressing my newsletters and paperwork, so in the end when they restructured without me knowing, that was probably because they sent the information to the wrong address or simply forgot me.

So I was not told that this valuable resource had been lost, and I was left with nothing to replace it.

Happier Memories, parties, outings and things like that

There weren’t many happy or stress-free times in my life with my family, there were a few, but we didn’t get to go out and do things like normal families do.
This isn’t anyone’s fault, we were a large family with no money.

When I left home and went to college, I had my first real outings and ‘fun’.

I remember going bowling for the first time, when I was 17, to me it was awesome, I was not sure of myself, afraid I would be shown up as I simply had no idea even about exchanging my shoes for bowling shoes.
But I seem to remember that it went well enough for me to want to go bowling again after that, and have always enjoyed it, although I had dire bowling experiences in Jersey.

Other wonderful outings were with Youth Group, we went ice skating and I developed an absolute love for that, I used to skate at every opportunity in my mid 20s, when I was living a few miles from the rink.
Youth group also went bowling, and swimming, and I remember how wonderful it was to be there, to be part of it, to join in, to be included, and they were wonderfully inclusive, they brightened my life.

Ski-Bobbing: This was one of the best Youth Group Trips! We went ski-bobbing on the dry ski-slopes in the New Forest, it was an experience, going speeding down the hill on the ring things, it was awesome fun! And we had a nice meal afterwards, what you call a basket meal, the others were used to all this, of course, and some of them watched the skiiers on the other slope, because a number of the youth group could ski, but it seems no matter how well off you are, fun is universal and we all enjoyed ski-bobbing and speeding down the hill on the ringoes.
Thank you for including me, it made life better for me.

Cinema: I didn’t go to the cinema until G. my lovely boyfriend took me to the cinema, and he liked action films, of course, all gangsters and drugs, and his dad was a police officer, so G’s dad, driving us home from the cinema, had to listen to us planning a drugs haul like in the movie we had seen, he was most amused.
G. Was a sweet well behaved young gentleman, I must write about him some time. We went out for a few years and never once did he behave improperly. Good man.
But once I had learned cinema and worked out how to get a seat on my own and away from others, I really enjoyed it and went when I could, but not to see gangster films unless I was with G. I prefer comedy and children’s films. Although in Jersey, my friend who had labelled me a vigilante, took me to see ‘Kickass’ because she thought it was my kind of film, and actually, I did find it interesting, I did not enjoy the sequel so much.

Parties:

Well, you have the 21st Birthday story elsewhere in the blog, so I wont redo that.

There were so many parties and events in the village, many of which I helped with, as best I could, I remember helping to do hundreds of bacon rolls and wash hundreds of plates and other things one Saturday at a fundraising event for Romania, run of course by our then Mission Support Leader, the one who was convicted of child abuse and porn, and who I am supposed to be the same as because of my disability, and who the Korris report churned out some incomprehensible nonsense about to cover up and condemn me.
Ah, but that was one of many lovely mornings spent on community events.

The main parties out of the many many parties, were the barn dances, and my friends’ parties.

The barn dances were another lovely time for me, having grown up without such events, it was all such fun! the music, the dancing, usually some of the youth group were there, and we had such fun, although they knew what a conga was, and I did not, so they had to teach me.

Two of the couples I was friends with, had Christmas parties every year and various garden parties in the summer, and I loved to help out.
The Christmas parties especially were part of my happier times and certainly part of my Christmas for 10 years or so.

One party would be on the Sunday before Christmas, I think, and I would stand at the door, greet everyone, because this was scripted, and the only way really, for me to be able to talk to people, and so, I would take their coats and put the coats upstairs in the spare room, which my friend referred to as ‘my room’ because I sometimes stayed over.
When the coats were pretty much done and almost everyone was there (there were always people arriving later on), I would hand round snacks and things along with the family doing the same, and generally I would stay by the door for latecomers and people leaving, finding the right coat for the right person was always fun.
Then the other party at Christmas was Christmas eve, people arriving in the late morning for lunchtime, I think.
Again I would stand by the door, take coats, respond politely to the usual comments about my ‘job’ of taking coats, and again I would hand out food as well.
Usually I would stay on and look at the tree with all it’s decorations, and then it would be Christmas and whatever the plans were for the rest of the day, night or whatever.

The Village also had a Christmas party, the day before Christmas eve, every year, it was more than a party it was a kind of talent and variety show, and comedy, acting and all kinds of things went on, really well done and well run, great fun, although in the end it kind of lost it’s magic for me. Again I would help in the kitchen, with refreshments and mainly taking trays of wine round and collecting the glasses afterwards during the interval.

It was a delight and a special time for me, to be part of all that, and although it is cloaked in the sadness of being defamed and driven out and shunned thanks to Jane Fisher and JM between them, the memories were real and remain.

Happier memories, the boat and the sailing award

I joined the other sailing club to get more dinghy sailing and training and more social activities.

They had an open day one day and were selling off the old club dinghys.
They were very kind to me as I viewed the dinghys and picked out one for me in reasonably good shape, they sold this to me for £50, and so I was a boat owner.

I was very proud of this little boat, and I got a place on the boat park for it, on it’s little trailer.
Although someone tried to shove it out of it’s place and park their boat there soon after, even though I had been given that space, club members helped to sort that out, and I started work on getting the boat into better shape.

The boat was a Topper, a white and blue one, and it’s faded name read ‘Crazy’, which made my friends laugh, so I changed it’s name.
I contacted the Topper Sailing association and got a signed book and a new mainsheet and other bits for the boat, which I slowly and carefully fitted, and I learned how to put the mast up and rig the boat where it stood on dry land.
I felt I had made a lot of progress as a result of owning my boat, just as I made progress with driving when I got my own car, see my earlier post about the car.

I had done my dinghy sailing levels one and two, but level three was more elusive, both in training costs and assessment, so I started to train when I could with one of the Pico’s that I had often borrowed for solo sail practice.
I saw the Clipper Bursary advertised, and it was for anyone who wanted to further their sailing experience and qualifications.
So I applied.

I didn’t win the main sailing award but won an extra award that they offered especially for me. I was stunned!

The award they offered was to help me gain my level three and I was very happy about it.

I suppose I had better explain that this happened during the grim death time, 2010, when, despite my stay at Maytree (suicide prevention centre, self-referral), I was going downhill, and the Diocese were still harming me and not dealing with my complaint.

Anyway, I went to meet the man who was offering the award, and he took some photos of me with my dinghy, he said that a condition of the award was that I was likely to be interviewed by the press, he said the photos would probably be in the JEP, and because of the church situation, which I explained without naming names, he said that my name would be omitted. But I was terrified because I knew the haters would react to me being in the press.

The reaction I knew about turned out to be Jane Fisher, she and I were on ‘speaking’ terms, although she was still hurting me and denying my complaints, this was 2010, we were on speaking terms because tracy wanted that, and Jane Fisher’s interference was trashing my friendship with Tracy and her church.

Anyway, Jane Fisher, I remember, kept on texting me and asking why I was to be interviewed by the press, she was so obviously only interested in the Church’s reputation, it was ludicrous.

I was in the JEP, but I delighted in ignoring BBC Jersey when they asked for an interview, after all, they had treated me appallingly and caused me a breakdown, a severe one.
Although at the same time I did contact them about joining the Springwatch beach clear up, which I very much enjoyed taking part in.

Anyway, so I was doing my level three dinghy practice but was quite unwell, and things came to a head one day when the boat capsized and I couldn’t right the boat or swim any more, I was exhausted, it is very possible that the full blown asthma had developed by then, because I couldn’t breathe properly, and I had to be rescued.
That was my last sail. That was the end of my dreams.
We were rapidly approaching the end by then.

My boat was moved to the garden of a Jersey clergyman, ‘for storage’, and while on the run in England when Jane Fisher and Tracy tried to have me sectioned and failed, my car irreparably broke down because I had had to use the repair money on the ferry ticket and looking after myself in England, and because the sheets, sails and steering mechanism for the boat were in the car, they had to be abandoned in England.
Then I lost my life and my home, my boat was left in that CoFE clergyman’s garden and the rest of the gear was left in the UK.

I lost my boat and my training and so much I had worked for and paid for, but did the Diocese care, no, when I arrived homeless in England they set about wrecking my life more than I could ever recover from, my losses already meant nothing to them compared to covering up for their wrongdoings, and they told me it was my fault, while I was homeless in Winchester, Bishop Scott-Joynt said so, from his palace, where he had refused to ever deal with any complaint from me.

Trying to get back to happy memories Tall Ships etc.

I have had a bad week of stresses and dead ends, I have got very distressed, especially with the States of Jersey bollocks, so I am trying to get back to feeling better by doing some more happy memories.

Tall ships:

It was one boat show day, I wandered onto a tall ship that was parked at the boat show.
They were incredibly welcoming to me on the ship, they showed me round and they were so nice.
I didn’t tell them what my learning difficulties were, but they obviously knew I had problems.
They invited me to do a Day Sail with them next time one of the ships was in Jersey, with a view to me joining them for a voyage at some point, and they would let me have a day sail for free and see about funding me for a longer voyage.

The daysail went ahead, although sadly for us, the sea and wind were almost totally calm, so the planned voyage round the Island or towards Guernsey didn’t go ahead as we couldn’t get very far and had to be under motor.
We trekked up and down St Ouens bay and St. Aubins instead.

We enjoyed looking round the ship and watching maintenance on the rigging. The only problem was that the skipper was so sexist and chauvenistic that he spoiled it a bit, claiming that us women would not be able to do the sheets, which simply wasn’t the case.

But my best memories were helming the ship, learning to help with great care because there was a delay between turning the helm and the boat changing course, and also having freshly baked chocolate muffins, which had been baked onboard. Yummy.

I had a lovely day, and was delighted when they said they would look into funding me for a full voyage, although it all got forgotten in the busyness of life.

So the next boat show, I ended up wandering aboard the ship again, and this time they talked again of funding me, and eventually they told me I was awarded full funding for a voyage, and I should look at the brochure and take my pick of a voyage that still had spaces.

Sadly as the Church continued to destroy me, I was left homeless before I could take any voyage.

Those little Easter Gardens, and other stories

See the bay tree 

How big it’s grown

but friend it hasn’t been that long

it wasn’t big

you laughed at me and I got mad

the first day that I planted it 

was just a twig

Now my life’s an empty stage

where Bonnie lived and Bonnie played

and love grew up

and I remember still 

how she pulled you up that hill 

while I laughed and clapped…

well that is not a very inspiring variation of ‘Honey’ by Bobby Goldsborough.

It is funny how my deep and loving friendship with JM and my community has been distorted into something it wasn’t, to cover up wrongdoings by her, her husband and others.

JM and I were very close. Even though a number of things were wrong, including the way she crossed professional boundaries by intervening in my college courses when she was my counsellor, and taking me to her home, knowing what her husband had been accused of by his daughter who looked like me.

And then moving me into her home and getting Council Money for keeping me for that month or six weeks, which the church do not seem to have any register of.

JM, in the early days, said she wanted to be a mother to me, and make up for what I hadn’t had, and for a year or two I called her ‘mummy’ or ‘mammy’, but it didn’t matter as much as the loving friendship that we had.

Anyway, the Bay Tree is still there, unless it has been chopped down since I was last there. It was in a pot, JM had bought it or been given it, for her herb garden, and it was pot bound and growing, so she asked me to plant it out by the herb bed, it was quite a job with such a root ball, and such shallow chalky soil.

I had to cut it from the pot and work hard to dig a hole, watched unblinkingly by JM’s mother, who seemed to find my work fascinating whether she was in a loving me or hating me phase. (she was like that).

The song ‘Honey’ also reminds me of when JM’s dad died, and her mum fell and dislocated her hip within days of his death, JM raged at the hospital because they had said the artificial hip was un-dislocatable, and so JM’s mum was moved to Sarum Road private hospital, where we went to visit her. I remember sitting in the car park in JM’s car, and she had the CD of Honey in the car and I listened to it on the CD player.

JM’s mum was still proud and strong in hospital, not emotional, she wasn’t usually, apart from getting angry or raging about things in the paper.

It was when she came out of hospital that she became emotional, she was able to attend the funeral in a wheelchair, and it was in the days after that that  she would get upset a lot, getting upset over me and giving me extra money for my tasks in the garden and around the property. 

But she soon became herself again.

The last bit, I used to meet JM for the dog walk each day, and I used to stand at the top of the hill and shout to the dog and make her pull JM up the hill, oh how norty, poor JM, she couldn’t run! 🙂

The other thing about the song, Honey, is it reminds me about how JM used to say how her inner child would play with mine, we were like children playing, I guess a bit like I playplay with Elle and Polo and people. As I mentioned before, trauma has stunted my emotional maturity, so I am a bit childish.

It wasn’t JM’s fault that her husband misbehaved, and I think it hurt her, and she did believe both of us were responsible, even though I was in no state to be thinking about misbehaving, but it was her fault that she got involved in Jersey and liased with the Dean and the churchwarden to blacken my name and cover up for her husband.

It was sad to go back and see the rectory empty, and then briefly inhabited by someone who had a sports car, the bay tree had grown wild, and it wasn’t the same place that was part of my life for so many years, back when there was sunlight, spring and daffodils, and a life full of occupation.

This is Honey    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZiEY3O-FWk

And this song reminds me of FM and how he told me he had fled his violent father and his story to me of how he was seduced into a sex act by a female when he was too young, FM was a violent tempered man, but JM excused him that it came from his background, even though he had never tried to change. His violent temper scarred my life from age 19 onwards and has contributed to my own problems and my anger and my fear of men, I was afraid of him, and that is one of the reasons he got away with what he did. (His daughter and his first wife also apparently suffered badly because of his temper, but JM could contain him, because she was a very stubborn woman indeed, always right and always got her way no matter how he raged).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=37GrbCUvZEM

The Easter Gardens:

After years of not knowing what Easter was, Easter burst into life for me, I had had no idea it was such an event in the church, and to me, just waking from the dirty ghettos, Easter in Hampshire was beautiful. 

Easter in Hampshire was big excitement, daffidils blooming in the spring sunshine with the clear blue sky and beautiful spring green of my beloved home county.

Easter was a busy calender of church events to help with, excitement, flower arranging and stress, Easter was invitations and services and time with friends, time off work, it was joy and glory and light and wonder, it was all new and amazing.

One of my tasks, which JM would hand to me every year, was helping the young children to plant the Easter Garden every year, we would have an Easter garden service in church, and then we would go out to where the little bedding plants were to be planted, where the little model tomb had been placed, and JM would talk, and then she would get me to assist the children in planting and watering the bedding plants.

The Easter Garden would stay blooming through and after Easter.

The sun will always shine on those memories, so pure, before the darkness came. I was alive and life was so full, I had escaped to my home county, and everyone said I had a bright future.

The Garden Party – Have I done this one?

It was another sponsored event, but more than that, it started with a sponsored walk, which ended at Wolvsley Palace in Winchester for a youth event, a ‘garden party’ with stalls and events and meeting in the marquee where we had a talk, from memory, the talk was about youth in the church of England, but I am not positive, but I do remember how all the youth groups were walking or travelling to Wolvsley to join the event, and we had one of the shorter walks.

I didn’t really understand the Church of England apart from knowing about JM’s grumbles and the cliques in church back then, I didn’t know how desparate they were to keep young people as they are a dying church, even in the Diocese of Winchester which is described as ‘so low church and evangelical that they are all limbo dancing’. (not my description).

Anyway, our sponsored walk was to raise money for one of the African countries, possibly for wells, I can’t remember now.
We walked happily into Winchester, carrying a banner, and the police slowed up to check us out, and decided we looked harmless.

We arrived at Wolvsley and set up our stall, we were running a maggot racing or worm racing game, and the freed worms or maggots ran everywhere but you had to bet which would get closest to somewhere on the board.
Bishop Scott-Joynt and archbishop Carey politely wandered round the stalls, I think it was the Bishop who had won a lollypop at one of the stalls and was sucking this lollypop, and the Hampshire Chronicle got a picture of this and printed it as a headline, but I cannot remember either the headline or the article, only the funny picture.

I had hid when the Bishop and Archbishop came over, because I was very shy and didn’t know how to address them.
I did know the Bishop’s wife vaguely, as she had been introduced to me by her friends, my friend Anne, who she sang with in the Wayneflete, and her friend FM, who she attended groups with, FM who had abused me when I had stayed briefly at the Rectory according to JM’s wishes.
But anyway, the Bishop’s wife was at this event, with the Archbishop’s wife, and she ignored me when I said hello, which was embarrassing, because I was shy.
When JM heard about that later, she said they were snobs at Wolvsley and that they treated her Benefice administrator the same. (JM was not normally at youth events and youth group, she was a very busy lady).

Anyway, we had fun nonetheless, and the weather stayed wonderful, and we had the talk in the marquee on youth in the church, presumably, and then continued festivities later.

A lovely memory.