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Saturday 17th August 2019.

It...a word that my mother once said i should never use in English Grammer...to working class i presume now i am well past the it stage of youth with time over the years to think why some words my parents said never leave my mind they seem to pop into my head at amazing times.
It seems to be a week of big anniversary's...today in 1969..Woodstock..was waking up, i would have been on school holidays and probably did not even know it was happening..there would be no wireless turned on in the house and the T.V. would not be turned on until late evening it was still a time when the T.V. was a novelty which sat in the corner with a jar of flowers on top perhaps. Family life was that good i cannot recall much of what was going on as i have said i think i am not even sure which house i was living in during that summer wishful thinking now would had have me keeping a diary. A strong ask at the age of 13...a time when spiffy was happening in my underpants and pulling on female clothes was not the order of the day it was simply summer and Woodstock was a word spoken on the evening news in the same tone as man walking on the moon.
It has also been a week where i have wallowed in nostalgia wondering why i took particular forks in Robert Frosts wood and not fumbled in others first. It does not help when i take Fernando Pessoa's book " The Book OF Disquiet " as my bible on life, and perhaps would be good if i entered once more the modern world of dog eat dog and the last tango of boris and donald however weekend first...Love and Peace to all whom pass this way have a good weekend
So Goeth...x

Thursday 15th August 2019.

My old friend this here blank screen whispers..Well,...i wonder that word too is this my second time or perhaps third time this week i have come for a quick scribble, or is it just one of those weeks when questions simply cover the soul in thorns why this and that and what happened.
Today is the 74th Anniversary of the end of the second world war in Asia it will not feature on any of the media i pass through during the coarse of the day. I once delivered post to an old gentleman whom spent time in Changi Prison Singapore as a POW....in his latter life i used to watch him walk down the village streets with a pair of sugar tongues picking up litter....he cried once when someone had thrown out old food for the garbage man to collect....all these tiny morsals of human touch make up daily life....thankfully small children stood at bus stops playing ring a ring make me smile it kinda washes away all the sadness that creeps over the world always blown into some grab a headline story to be read over the morning corn flakes. I wonder what people think when the last cornflake is eaten.
Today it is raining the month of August is not what it once was...i asked some one yesterday of my age was it my imagination that school school holidays summer back in the 60's were wall to wall sunshine or had i clothed those days in a bed of tinted roses, sadly he told me so, of his adventures down in the fields sent out in the morning with a bottle of water and not returning until tea time.
Just to rub it in...my blessed I-Pod clicked in...Here Comes Summer..by The Undertones..which is fitting, as time to pull on my wrinkled stockings grab my rain coat and out into the wide world in my tiny red post van go i..so Goeth.

Tuesday 13th August 2019.

Somehow i feel slightly lost this morning, i cannot quite put my finger on it, perhaps simply waiting for the ticking clock to release me forward to work where i am trying out a new route into the mad traffic of down town or simply because it is simply Tuesday...So Goeth.

Sunday 11th August 2019.

Another rainy week passes through this tiny blot on the land scape..if i never had webbed feet before than i have them now. Its been a week of highs and lows bubbles have burst across my mind as well as falling out of a wine bottle...at least i have had not had to water my plant pots dotted around the garden and i have managed one night simply sitting there watching the grass grow, to that old poem.. who's opening line " What is life if full of care we have no time to stand and stare.. " whom i thought was written by the poet John Clare, however not so..which thankfully did not stop me from buying a copy of selected poems and prose of John Clare from a charity shop for the sum of £1.49....the first inside page has inscribed...
Peter Feb 90....does this mean Peter has passed away, or is now tired of reading prose, or it does not quite fit the newly decorated front room of his dwelling, then again does not know someone has slipped this book into charity..for good measure, so the curtains match the colour on the walls...and he really does not know it is missing at all. Such words written on old books always makes me ponder about whom, for a good few days about whom they really are and why such a book has slipped from their fingers..i could not possibly let any off mine do such a trick and i do hope when i have reached my last nine yards my collectin is not riding in some dustbin truck to oblivion.
I had to cross town early dawn Thursday before work .on thrice the public bus a text the night before with a demand from him...can you make short notice with a hidden demand make it...the slut inside made sure i fed him his delights, this did not stop the age old question why did the three fates make me wear pink panties... Whilst i passed hordes of people popping into pie shops on a mission to work, taking free newspapers from old cocks standing on street corners, thankfully oblivious to myself, life is as they say. Love and Peace to all whom pass this way and have a good week ahead....Especially if your in the pet mode, i shall raise a glass of Australian bubbles to you all..So Goeth...

Thursday 1st August 2019.

Is it really August will have to sit down talk to my old friend Winne-The-Pooh....to confirm that the said month has already started...today i am a damp squid in wrinkled stockings so much rain has fallen i feel as if 80 million rain drops have fallen on my head...
I sit here with a glass of white wine to soften the blow just incase i forgot to count any raindrops falling on my head and thus could be more than 80 million falling on my head today..i think of time past to Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid film, one of the first films i saw without daffy duck, in as a part of growing out of pubity or was it into..to Katherine Ross for whom i kept a small picture which reminded me of a girl i luved and whom i left behind when i drifted off to boarding school all those years ago...the girl still sits in my soul even after all these years when perhaps she is now staring across at the big seventy years old playing field..and there was no way that we would have been together that was far to deep in the lucky bag of life,simply one of those school boy crushes that always remain as part of your soul.
The weekend is but a few hours away to to bend and chill blow bubbles to the world Thus..Luv and Peace to all whom pass this way...So Goeth..x

Sunday28th July 2019.

Tis but just past the hour of the famous blue rain coat, for myself perhaps the best tune to contemplate after an evening wearing a blue suit waist coat and red tie. The suit now hangs airing before being put away until the next time life expects, it could be never as i march down the last nine yards of life. Perhaps it is not so much the suit but the tie that last button at the neck and the turning of the collar that sometimes presses the panic button on life, as to whom am i and should i really wear a suit.
The suit went on a journey to Lach Dennis Village Hall..Cheshire England some 30 miles outside the Manchester Basin, with an invite from an old working buddy from way back when working on the postal service was not so up yer bum thrash and mash it has become today with modern tecno and managers whom have forgotten article 19..or perhaps do not know it exists.
The village hall was an add on to a quaint small church the sort you see on old postcards with curled up edges posted when stamps were still penny blacks it was nice comfortable standing there.
I could feel the suit whispering where are we, why is home town not like this, where is the spray canned paint on the walls, why are there no empty coke cans lay in the gutter, discarded Mcdonald wrappers blowin in the wild hedgerows...in fact why did you wear me to this place of postcard life giving me a glimpse of what life could be.
Drinking ice cold bottled water whilst my favourite bottled beer in the bar fridge Newcastle Brown which i have not seen for so long in public view, unable to pass my lips as Johnny taxi driver was mine for the night....where these days this beer is far from the maddening crowd as the great push by those whom know best force tasteless european beer almost down ones throat i could not answer the suits whispers, simply hugged anyone whom wanted a hug...smiled when the new weds had the first dance thought inwardly all the best for the future had five minutes with my old friend as usual we talked old post office days...a one man band was the singer which felt rather cool...and fitted this tiny village hall atmosphere most of the songs i hummed too he sang Oasis " wonderwall " felt the suit becoming used to being worn and we both agreed why is living in the cities, towns, of this land so tongue twisted but never found the answer in those few hours only the hope that all uban life should be like this.
As the clock ticked a nudge from the suit although nice evening i need to be back in the wardrobe soon was the whisper a touch more hugs some kind patter for thanks for coming keep in touch which he much deserved, the suit and i went out ino the wild night, falling rain, spray on the motorways as thick as sea mist back to reality with no looking back, the heavy sigh from the suit was a relief for both of us, as i pegged it up standing in front of the mirror naked wonder where all the years had gone a wrinkle for each year though perhaps for every month over these 63 years would be more correct.
Love and Peace to all whom have read this far...So Goeth...x

Saturday 27th July 2019.

After all the screaming from the protesters of the hottest day on earth on record on Thursday past which i do not believe at all, just full of media hype and who's eyes do we believe any way these days after all we now have Boris as prime minister which means we have batman and robin in charge of the pond and across, which seems today as if voters are dressed only in their cotton socks between their ears.
..Those that live above us in the heavens have thought sod it bollocks to your English summer and the whimpers..and thus the day opens up to rain all day and a temp not climbing above 62F...This evening i have to pull on the dreaded suit and red tie over my wrinkled stockings whilst she inside screems indignation and all other frothy words. I have also drawn the short straw as i am playing johnny taxi man thus no chardonny on a saturday night how dreadful i think with a smile. However i have not attended a bad wedding reception quite yet.
Tomorrow is very much the same weather wise and its but the local town's pride day i am going to try and make the effort and go minus the lipstick but with a full heart..i must end these words early evening by saying i passed a busker today..whom had laid out some sweets with a note please take and was singing an Oasis song in the rain i was quite taken by that a touch of warmth in these angry days bless him...So Goeth.

Friday 19th July 2019.

I would like to think last night 50 years ago the BBC the programme Top Of The Pops...played the song in the year 2525 by Zager And Evans...50 years ago since Monday past..a space rocket has been heading for the moon in a few hours time it will be the 50 years ago since man landed on the moon.
All this week nothing but the year 1969.has been floating inside my head trying mostly to think what pop songs were in the charts during that week....and where i was and what i felt all those years ago i can recall songs from 1969 but sadly not the day month etc...and had to resort to various pages on the big wide web...to at least give me a clue.
In 1969...i was a mere 13 years old and had been sent to a small all boys  boarding school on the south coast of England at the age of 13..it was bed at 7.30..lights out at 8.00pm..Therefore during that timeTop of The Pops was on at 7.30pm...and thus not for us juniors....the female form was that far away and out of touch they may as well been on the very space ship which was in the night sky during that time. There were of coarse nightly talks between our selves sometimes they lingered over what girls looked like. Some of us sneaked in tiny wireless's and tried to hide them under our pillows if caught they were removed until the term time finished. The outside world to us back then was on another planet..
Strangely the Headmaster 50 years ago tomorrow gathered us all into the school canteen and we sat and watched the BBC coverage of the moon landing i had thought back then it was the actual time but i suspect it was recorded highlights...however that day time has always been with me for those few hours all that hope for the world was on those few foot prints on the moon....it was going to be like a new dawn for man kind....tonight as i road home on the bus sat through all the shite on the floor,watched the empty cans roll across the floor, heard every conversation a mobile phone could perform quite why people wish us to know every breath they take is quite beyond me perhaps its old age or perhaps i am simply a loner at times...however as sit here now its as if the moon landing is a figment of my imagination. No one this week whom i have talked to or passed has said wow..50 years ago this was it...Normal services will soon start if anyone has missed me thank you.. to all whom pass this way love and peace...x...So Goeth.

Sunday 7th July 2019.

Sometimes it is good to trip the light fantastic away from the adopted town where one pulls on the panties each day, trawls through the daily angry traffic with a box of frogs with a heavy sigh. Just to climb aboard a train sit back and give a heavy sigh of relief that such thoughts can be slipped into the pocket for a few days...Down to the big smoke city for a few days ride the tube which must be the biggest blind spot in health and safety laws on the planet and could i live amongst that each day No...but for a few days it was glam rock all the way must have walked a hundred miles stuffed with all the foods God says one should not eat..took a ramp of pictures as usual...here are just two for now i have a very soft spot for buskers always dropping a few shilling in the box tin hat in whatever is lay before them spoted this lad in Covent Garden...it was also Pride Weekend and this young lass was stood in Tottenham Park Road all day outside paperchase....So Goeth...must dash shopping and washing to unpack....

Saturday 29th June 2019.

80F...has been predicted for this small spot on the planet today this means for one day only summer has arrived..i will spend at least half the day teaching a fellow postman a Saturday letter box collection in the old mill town of Stalybridge..where once the Film Yanks was fillmed when i had hair on my head and the transvestite inside me was a mere pimple.
The other half will be in the solitude of my garden where i will talk to my old friends the troglodytes, saccharine turtles and curly leaf wood  nymphs, as the BBQ..puts strange taints of smell in amongst the herbs i attempt to grow each year...helped by a bottle of fine Australian wine to wash away the weeks work thoughts.
I am next week on leave from my tiny red van and will vanish to London for a few days to dainty about in parts i have not stepped through before i will be in sane company so the slut inside me will have to simply scream and make do with a small treat rather than kick'um to death in a busted bra sort of thing.
Hope all whom pass this way are enjoying their summer luv and peace to all...So Goeth...x