Sunday 29th November 2020.

Today i have admitted the festive season of Christmas is apon me....time to put the old memories in the right boxes...some to keep the lids tight on, some to let out and rage in the night sky of the why's and why nots can i name a year of this, or is it a total blur rolled up in all my 65 years, a crazy snowball thrown against a brick wall to slowly melt down and dribble touches of life across each coarse of brickwork i can understand if someone hates the word Christmas and yet there are those that simply love it to death...as each year spits out distant memories..torn across befuddled memories, from childhood to youth ending in a pint pot of old age. I have spent time with a fem whom hated Christmas to death and yet have spent time with a fem where Christmas starts in November..both sing there own song from childhood...
Tonight Bing Crosby sang White Christmas through my I-Pod..i thought Wow and had to press repeat....did i think of family or did i simply think Christmas and the thought of others or was i selfish in my vanity and busted bra....and thought over the years of my own self....Oranges are not the only fruit...Thus...i draw today simply thoughts of the prickles of the holly bush in reality.

To all whom pass this way love and peace..take extra care during this festive season..So Goeth...x

Sunday 22nd November 2020.

My tiny red van and i will move deeper into Christmas Pressue this week time will mean many things, possibly gibberish might spread across this wide blank screen making no sense at all from a tired mind or possibly none at all until Christmas Eve...Should the Govt allow such a festival to be..aint half hot.....in some normal way..i might sit here simply blowing bubbles to myself or sat here not even turning on this here machine simply dressed in wrinkled stockings with a glass of wine thinking wow i have made it through the day and my 39th Postal Christmas...I have ready my Christmas hat which will make me giggle at times i picked it up from a supermarket on Saturday a woolly spiderman hat it simply whispered i dare you, please buy me don't leave me here forlorn on a rack..and thus Christmas 2020 begins for me the most strangest and madest i can recall in all my years...

To all whom pass this way love and peace take care...So Goeth...x

Sunday 15th November 2020.

And so i take on this Sunday eve the last sip from a bottle of Pecheur vintage 2019 white wine found on the bottom shelf of a supermarket for under Five pounds is taken... gosh, wow, thinks my teenage mind, as i reflect on my week away from my blue uniform, as the time has spluttered through my fingers in tiny grains of sand i could not catch to hold on to the crumbling hours..my small boy childish mind wonders indeed where has time vanished...my old age of 65 knows only too well the answer, as my to do list has simply curled even further down the poetic fork in the woods less taken....
I have at least also..thought on the lines " We have no time to stand and stare ".. this past week having time to ponder "What is life if full of care "...in the moors above Goyt Valley...to indeed stand and stare across the horizon giving thanks to the mass trespass across Kinder Scout in 1932...of those gallent few that felt fuck it..pulling on some walking boots tired of Factory smoke stacks rising above the seat of God....In the Cities and towns of Northen England. Giving a right for the working classes to walk across this green land in freedom to indeed stand and stare.
i have also felt doubts about arriving at the age of 65....my mind is still locked in at 18...but the body knows only too well just how old it is, therefore the last nine yards of life is a coal bucket of soft sandles tagged with a few well worn torn dresses with busted bras across the horizon....as i hear media news of some of my school boy hero's press ganged into a pine box with notes slipped into the history books filled with dust as they depart this planet...
Billy Bragg sings a"  Lover Sings " across my I-Tunes account...So To...The Isley Brothers..Who's that lady.... which means perhaps i should end tonight with a thought for the world and the word Hope....

To all whom pass this way..Love and Peace...Take care...So Goeth...x

Thursday 12th November 2020.

I am on leave from my blue uniform during this week, as always i had a host of golden ideas where i would do this,that, catch up on that which as usual falls by the wayside as other bits and bobs in life crowd out of the gutter crawl down from lamp posts tinged with Autumn weather, to fill my mind with bubbles and crisp or soggy fallen autumn golden leaves depending how many rain drops have cascaded across my brow.
It has also been a period of reflection poking out of the tongue on life in old loves, concert tickets, and a rash of CD'S...i have picked up either in new crispy wrappers or on dusty shelves from charity shops before Big Bad Boris once more drew down the blinds on freedom of movement during this month of November....I have reached two mountain tops which i have stood stared across the horizon wondering the old cliche where indeed time has vanished slipped through my fingers with only curled up photo's of proof to my mind i have foot fallen...I have reached my 39th year wearing a blue uniform...and i have almost reached 65 years walking on this planet.



This is a picture whilst tripping through New York in January 1991 during the Gulf War...when New York was almost at war with itself...the list of do nots whilst walking on the streets, pinned to the door of the youth hostel could read quite frightening thoughts if one stared long enough at the list, however i teamed up with an Aussie lad staying in the same dorm hence this Picture....



A young lady i follow on Lj...scribbled on her blog am i ugly.....a few days ago....this picture i had taken by a young blond girl half my age whilst sat in my tiny red van on reaching my 39th year in a blue uniform made me think hard on her words....am i ugly..the mind still thinks on its only 18...but the mirror tells the truth....but hey life is..don't look back in anger and don't let the bed bugs bite....

To all whom pass this way love and peace..take care....So Goeth...X

Sunday 8th November 2020.

I just want to on this eve of Remembrance Sunday of the Great War 1914-1918 across this land...to think on..Pete Seegar...and the " Banks are made of Marble "...Peter Paul and Mary..Where have all the Flowers gone....with a soft spot of the Grimethorpe
Colliery Band...playing the Old Rugged Cross...Yes indeed i have drank a few glasses of South African white wine...humble apoligies Australia...and i will leave this eve with...C'est La Vie..by Emerson Lake and Palmer...therefore Good Night.

To all whom pass this way love and peace take care and so Goeth....X...

Saturday 7th November 2020.

Drizzles of Guy Fawkes night fireworks splutter in the Saturday evening sky beyond this rooms window, perhaps a celebration of a birthday or perhaps fuck it someone just wants to see fireworks explode to cascade in the night sky such is the gloom which hangs over this country....on this eve...
I have myself become tired of the two old men spitting at each other and have thus not pressed any buttons to see what is on offer across the pond between these two countries, on whom will  sit in the white house...i wonder what indeed the Americas would now look like had the Mayflower had not set sail in those old school history books or indeed become blown by winds to South America instead what then for the world indeed. There would perhaps have been no American Civil War..no General Custor..excuse my spelling if you will and the greatest sigh for me no music spiriting over the vast horizon to splosh around my ears on this eve...
In stead tonight as being Saturday thus the weekend i have opened a butchered job of a wine bottle where two grapes have been mixed....Chardonnay being one grape the other at this eve of day i cannot quite spell which is quite a spilf..seeing i failed my 11plus school exam some 50 years ago...instead tonight whilst cooking the evening meal i pondered on something great coming across the american air waves...to the tune of Danny and the Juniors..At The Hop......A song which hits the repeat button perhaps to many times thankfully i sit here in silence apart from the ticking of clocks and the stabbing of these keys....trying in vain to fill this blank space with some sense....At The Hop...was a record played at the town fairs during my child hood before the Beatles took over bringing back memories of candy floss, pop corn, and girls with short dresses...as the fair ground rides biffed and boshed in the evening air...However i am going to finish tonight..with the tune, Hang on In there Baby by Johnny Bristol with a sense of hope we do indeed all hang in there...

To all whom pass this way love and peace...take care...and...So Goeth...x

Thursday 5th November 2020.

Usually on Guy Fawkes eve up to around midnight..biff, bosh. star spankled spanner fire works would light up the sky cascading colours up to perhaps the milky way, glasses would have chinked, bottle tops would have been popped, treakle toffee would pull out your fillings toffee apples would bring back childhood memories..Tonight there has only been a token, a half hearted few spurts a few grunted farts and maybe's, in rockets sent up into the sky, as i criss crossed the streets in the cobbled evening light tonight the thought of nothing more depressing in passing Pubs in the gloom of shutness, when usually a bonfire roar even in the carparks that thought to now carry a mask in the pocket every where one trawls the footfall through the urban sprawl has turned the word abysmal into a capital A..and lay heavy on my shoulders this evening riding my tiny red van.
The will,l the thought, might have been for tonight, especially as no rain has fallen across this basin of land, but the power of clamped movement rules, has brought WTF.. i feel for tonight. I do not think either, that people have sat through the bustle across the pond on whom is crowned into the white house i think really whom are we has sunk in as tiny ants in all this media hype about the White House and whom wears the comfy slippers in the near future..we are mere bubbles floating in the night sky.
I simply think people in this cool autumn light are also weary of the IT-Flu...with a wondering about the word Christmas, and sitting in a face mask on Christmas Day seems completely befuddled in an melancholy gargoyle tied with holly. Rather than the three kings following a bright star in the sky far brighter than all the fireworks across the land, to bring hope to all.

To all whom pass this way Love and Peace take care..So Goeth.

Wednesday 4th November 2020

During the last run of the evening, picking up mail from some small post offices across Greater Manchester, on passing the newspaper stand The Daily Star..a newspaper one should only read sat in a cuboard with the light out and never admit to having bought a copy ever..The Massive headline made me both laugh and sigh in the same gasp....with added sadness that out of over Three hundred million people across the pond in America the battle to have bacon and eggs for breakfast sat in the White house came down to Thus.....

We wanted to stay up for the result But we fell asleep. however, we can tell you this....

OLD FART WINS ELECTION

He's either 74 or 77. Either a lunatic or senile. And he'll probably be due a little nap right about now!

The British people going into a newspaper shop from 7am this morning would have read these words for a few seconds there minds could possibly be distracted from the IT-Virus as from midnight tonight once more we go into Lockdown until the 2nd of December...2020...a host of freedoms will simply vanish. How strange the Govt can find 30 Million pound for the Police to use drones etc but could not back in the day give one penny to save British Leyland.

And what an odd thought that we might hear the result during Guy Fawkes night tomorrow a traditional night when bonfires were once set alight around the country with the reason lost in history and probably to political correct to talk on, the whys and wonders so best to leave it there or else this current generation might just ban it...

To all whom pass this way love and peace and take care..So Goeth...

Wednesday 28th October 2020.

I have arrived at this blank screen,there is no glass of wine sat beside me, nor is I-Tunes whispering in my ear, i am fresh out of the shower in one of those over large bath robes that cover 60 odd years of creeping red viens up my legs and other bumps and colourings marking each decade with relish, having washed todays rampant trawl through the streets of Greater Manchester though endless traffic lights that always seemed red today, road works that make one screw the eyes up and screem WTF if no one has worked on them for days, all this whirls....inside the head enough heat to boil a kettle..whispering time for tea, trying to not let road works bite the mind inside out.
As i approach my 39th Christmas Pressure on the post...Usually its for myself a happy madness, making me so thankful when Christmas eve comes over the hill with wild Goblins coming down from the moor tops in pink frothing hob nailed boots in unison with myself giving a big sigh of relief....that indeed it's all over for another year.
This year is going to be something Else...i am hoping i will not be sat here to scribble in the same frame of mind as today, not sure if Christmas will be Christmas at all, i hope i have not got a snood in my jacket pocket and i will not meet people with an arry of face coverings and perhaps America will have woken up with S & G'S...songs From Bridge Over Troubled Water will be very much filtering across the air waves whilst they vote....however life is life...and i will leave all with fingers crossed for the future...Love and peace to all whom pass this way So Goeth and take care...X