the bonny experience …….

life is tough, so much so that its proving difficult to smile, and that’s how i know that things aren’t right … smiling has always been an enjoyable pastime for me, but right now, i can’t seem to pull any out of the face

even when this was on offer, a welcoming gesture upon arrival at my wonderful baby sister’s home

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admittedly, it was a sunshine moment at the height of despair and it was definitely cheering.
But so soon afterward, more grey troubles presented themselves.

I’m thinking there’s just something de-motivating in the energy down South, having lived so long and pretty much happily up North for over a decade…

I’m here to find a motorhome, as nothing so far has presented itself as ticking the boxes to my requirements.  Am i too fussy? do i want too much? obviously so

there’s no internet at my sisters so i head for the parents house, having to get the timing right because there are a couple of monsters (siblings) amidst and they definitely require the widest berth you could ever imagine …

so i gets on the internet and i commence yet another lengthy search via e-bay, preloved, gumtree, and any other google search i can think of ….. suddenly a Winnebago Brave presents itself and the pictures look pretty good, the number plate is enchanting and its only been up for sale for 59 minutes .. i dial the number

the bloke on the other end talks very very fast so i ask him to slow down, and it’s quite funny that he slows down to a very strange and warped ‘grave’ tempo … (this, i should have taken into account as an omen)

anyway, we manage to understand each other and i book a viewing for the next day, out near Wembley …

from the parents house me and my sister go off to do some errands together, i’m feeling a bit sick because my life is an upside down mess, my possessions scattered around Merseyside, my home is currently my van with a suitcase and guitar and dog food in it … one of my dogs is with me, one is with a friend up North … my head is battered and bruised – i’m usually an organised, neat ‘place for everything and everything in its place’ type o girl .. and here and now, it looks nothing like the calm and tranquil lake in my mind – in fact it looks more like the landfill experience i had two decades ago where all the shit and rubbish from all over Essex, Middlesex and Hertfordshire was dumped …

anyway, we find ourselves in Hertford, both hungry and thirsty, so we decide to treat ourselves to lunch and our feet take us to a nice little number in what is called ‘Saloon’

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and so on a personal selfish level, i get an hour reprieve from the monsters in my head, and i feast on good food and wine (but of course, over indulgence comes back to kick you in the head, as you will find out as you read on)

thus, being in the mood to continue drinking and dining, the mother parent wants to spend time with her daughters and granddaughter so that very same night, we prepare to go out for a meal … and this we do, to a rather posh and nice restaurant

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another glorious break from reality, an expensive meal, but that’s what expensive taste buds do for you ……..

and then we get home

and then we drink another two bottles of red wine, and a rather rotten white!

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it was off! uurrgggghhhhhhhh, took it back to the late night off licence and advised them that it’s shelf life was most certainly over

and then the next morning, there’s a density in the air, or is it in our  heads?

and i have to meet up with the female parent to go and view a motorhome that i am to potentially purchase and travel by car to a place outside of Wembley …. i pull myself together as we pull into the farm where the motorhome is parked.  we meet the seller, a gypsy looking man with two gold bottom teeth and a large scar from top lip cross ways, looking like at some point in his life he may have taken a baseball bat to the mouth (possibly?!) … anyway, this man chats away, using coin of phrases over and over again … i’m in a part desperate position (cos i’m homeless) and i’m pinning my hopes on this motorhome …. and it looks pretty decent

it has almost everything i need (other than a kennel for the dogs!) … it even has a full on bike rack on the back, for a scooter to be carried.  we agree a price, shake hands on it and i say i’ll be back the following Wednesday to collect … so now i’m beginning to feel hungry so me and the parent make haste toward a feeding venue, we’re in a little place outside of Wembley so unknown territory to us, and then i catch sight of a garden centre and there’s a cafe within its grounds – quicker than you can say ‘full english’ we’re in the wonders of the tinsel lined aisles and into the cafe…. we order salmon and scrambled eggs on toast and tea and orange juice whilst we wait … i’m waning, feeling pretty empty, thirsty and deflated from the adrenalin rush of looking over my potential new home.  Breakfast is served and it looks fantastic … i tuck my fork into the scrambled egg and savour the first mouthful, next forkful in includes the salmon, and then another polite mouthful, alas, my nightmare continues as the blood drains from around my mouth and my lips begin to tingle … i feel like i’m going to fall off my chair and within seconds i’m doubled over, my parent still merrily stuffing their food and then looking on in distaste and weary shock too.  I feel as if my world is crashing in and i just want to get out of the place and curl up featal like somewhere under a rock or a stone.

can’t believe how ill i have become so quickly

i spend the rest of the day doubled over, trying to sleep, knowing that i have to make a three and a half hour journey back up the motorways to Liverpool, to no home, to have to collect my other dog …. feeling sick as a dog …. can life throw anything else at me?!

yep, it sure can, it comes gratuitously by way of torrential rain for three hours (200 miles) of motorway driving, by this time i haven’t eaten or drank anything for almost 24 hours and i’m battling nature, arctic lorries, speeding cars and mile upon mile of cats eyes ……….

maluka, the beach & life modelling …..

Tuesday brings with it the fact that i have to get off my recovery sofa and get back into the brutal world.  I’m still under par but i have a commitment made and unless i’m dead, i always try to honor my engagements. Firstly I walk the dog (i only have one dog for now, as my other is being tended to by a friend, giving me an ounce or two of reprieve) and lucky for us the sun is out and it’s a bright autumnal morning. Once Karma is sorted I then jump a shower, freshen up and get into some comfortable clothing.

I’m hungry but have no food in close proximity and i’m decidedly going to treat myself to a breakfast of egg n bacon, that’s all i want and so i jump in the Boogie Bus with Karma and we begin our journey toward the tunnel (i have to be in Hoylake for my engagement).  I’m looking for a cafe en route but for some harsh reason, one does not present itself.  I’m waning with hunger but decide to get across the water and find something that side.

Oh and I do … as i drive toward Hoylake I espy a couple of little cafe’s but nowhere easy to park, and then, i see the chalkboard on the pavement, like the peripheral view i see of the ‘brasserie’ and shake a quick left into a side street and park up fast. Any longer and i reckon i’d have been chewing on my dog’s tail!

I walk into the beautifully quaint brasserie at about 11.40am (the chalkboard having said that breakfast is served till midday) so luck is shining for me and i ask the girl if chef would be kind enough to just cook me eggs n bacon.  She’s helpful enough, although it did seem for a moment that perhaps they couldn’t swerve from the set menu, however there’s not one single other customer in, so really, they’re glad for the meagre custom i bring.

Anyway, breakfast is ordered ….

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(cost = £6.60 / maybe expensive for a breakfast, but worthy of it)

and i am delighted !!  the best eggs i have had cooked for me, ever! probably!   oh joy, i felt as if someone was definitely looking down on me and saying, ‘there you go girl, enjoy’ …. and i did

The place is called Maluca (which in Portuguese means ‘crazy’ supposedly) … it’s a fantastic little place with an amazing bathroom …

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the size of the tap had me in awe!

and it’s child friendly i’m reckoning….

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Now i’ve got about 40 minutes to kill before the Art commences …

So, i take my beautiful Karma to the beach …

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she absolutely loves the beach!

it’s a fair bit windy and chilly but it’s sure getting rid of the cobwebs.

We walk as far toward the turbines as i could and then i espied a wonderful boat and just as i was about to photograph it a man began walking all over it, at first i felt he would ruin my shots, but then he added to them, and then it turned out he was the guy who made it … we spoke and he filled me in on a couple of bits of its history … it’s known as the ‘The Grace Darling’ …..

https://www.facebook.com/TheBlackPearlNewBrighton

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an exhilarating experience, and one that i would certainly not have enjoyed had i found a cafe in Liverpool …. the winds that blow you off route are definitely some of the best …

A quick brush down of the sand and i head to the hall where the Life Art Session is to commence …

I’m well looked after, always, by this group and there’s always some fantastic results emerging..

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Now my quest is to find a bed for the night!

the after bubbles ….

waking up four hours after falling asleep constituted another safe bet that hard partying had occurred…

with everyone going their separate ways it was just me n Jo left as we returned to Liverpool

and for every drop of fun you experience, there’s always a hard hitting back down to earth waiting in the wings – mine being a last minute call in to go for a pre-op appointment, couple of bloods, few questions, blood pressure being taken etc etc … a day before last minute check in!

turned out to be pretty painless, lovely nurse, lovely private hospital where i received a very dignified assessment … still doesn’t take away the fact i don’t fancy going in for the operation tomorrow …

anyway that aside, the appointment was done n dusted n then me n twoeey were back on the road heading her homeward bound – no homeward bound for me, i still don’t have a home

we stopped off for a quick drink at the White Horse and then headed to the ‘Bubble Room’ for a scran …

lamb hotpot was on the menu for us both

bubble room 1 bubble room 4 Price = £10

at first we thought it looked a bit weird, arriving in a cup! but under the mash (dumpling) there were huge chunks of lamb and it was very very tasty!  8/10 compliments to the chef – The Bubble Room, Woolton is definitely worth a visit …………. then,

we went back to Hobson’s thereafter and had a couple of swift scotch’s and a smoke and then turned in, with sweet dreams of a gig gone good – roll on the next one!

futurejack visit manchester …..

Me and Two Pints wake up around the same time … 11am, so we’ve managed to get about six and a half hours kip.  We sort ourselves out pretty sharpish as i want to get on the road for about 12.30pm – i’ve arranged to collect my mate Mr Corner and head to Cheadle Hulme for about 2pm to go check out a racetruck before arrival at the Victoria Warehouse Hotel in Manchester for around 3pm…

Me and Twooey need a proper start to the day so after walking Karma we then stop off at the Whistlestop for …..

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breakfast done we jump back into the Boogie Bus and head for Mr Corner Pickup and then the M62.

All seems good and timing just a little behind. I’m heading for an Industrial Estate on Cheadle Hulme without a Sat Nav or even A-Z, possibly a recipe for disaster?  Ok, so i get a bit stressed and smack my steering wheel a couple of times, my passengers becoming a bit quiet, what can i say, i haven’t practised any Yoga for a couple of days and my patience wanes. Together we get through it and finally find the location, only to have a near miss crash by another less than capable driver who doesn’t check their mirror and turns a left into the front of my vehicle.  I scream out loud and reckon it’s my scream that they hear and therefore apply their brakes, by this time i’ve applied my brakes and Two Pints, who’s sitting in the rear of the Boogie Bus ends up getting a Bass guitar, Electric Guitar in hard case and a couple of drums in the back of her head.  Luckily enough she still had a bit of scotch in her from the night before so felt no pain, only a tad of bewilderment for a nanosecond.

We all pile out and check the racetruck (it’s a very quick viewing as i’m running behind on time by now)!  immediately i know it’s not for me so i shake hands, tell the sellers i’ll be in touch (which i did to tell them it was a no) and we all pile back in the boogie bus and head for our gig.

A bit more stress in finding the way back, note to myself to practice Yoga again very soon. Lucky for me my friends are very understanding.

We arrive at our destination pretty upbeat considering my earlier stresses.  Now onto the good stuff, we unload, set up, soundcheck and all is very very good. We check in, undo the scotch and have a swift nip or two before going back down to the bar to meet up with the rest of the crew.

Futurejack are ready to gig!!!

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We all had an absolute ball

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Stayed up all night and the three of us even done an impromptu cover of our own song ‘in my way’ in the shower!

Breakfast was at 7am to which there

was Goddess Naomi and myself only present

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8am … the single bed was calling, and so too, the Sandman!

You can check out more photographs and video snippets on our facebook page

http://www.facebook.com/futurejack

wednesday wednesday …..

So i wake up Wednesday morning under the warmth of my trusty parka jacket on my mates’ faux leather sofa and i’m feeling better than i did the night before! well, the full moon eclipse has well waned by now and i’m on the other side of its effect.  My good friend makes me a lovely strong coffee and gives me his spare keys so i can leave any time i want.  His chauffeur arrives and then he’s off to work.

Meanwhile i try planning the day ahead. Not got much to do today really, it’s the day before our big gig in Manchester and because i was such a disaster last night at rehearsals we’ve decided to get together again tonight at the Lomax, and put in another session. So, i decide to go into town, do a couple of errands and then maybe pick up something to wear for the gig.

My mood is still a bit of a damp squib, until i pop into Soho and, staring me in the face is the perfect item of clothing for the gig – a ‘psycho ward’ bright orange hoody!!  until that is, i turn 94 degrees to the left and spot something better, something even more purrrrrfect!

Shopping done i treat myself to something from Bold Street soul cafe!  my appetite’s down but definitely not out ………..

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from here on things can only get better….. marshmallow and creamed up to the nines i get back out on the street and smile.

I’m off to meet the rest of the futurejack pack @ the land otherwise known as Lomax and we get on with it and put in a good rehearsal session. After that, me and Jo head on back to Hobson’s for a bit of our a la carte, no messing about, late supper which consists of  :

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a very artistically pledged assortment of cheese and Marmite, a couple of glasses of Jamesons and a sneeky rolly or two ….

JO also presents me with 2 gifts, finely wrapped by her very self, i gets a bottle of JD Honey Whiskey and a James (My Ma) CD …

crabwall manor hotel …..

Even after a hefty night of mixed drinking there were no hangover problems in the morning.  I woke around 9am, took the dogs for their morning walk and returned to drink hot water and fresh lemon.  It’s a wonderful thing to not have to contend with the hangover and i put my ability for this avoidance down to the fact i made a disciplined effort with my general health and well-being from an early age.  At 18 i began swimming regularly and continued this for 13 years and at the age of 24 i found Yoga and i know it’s this combination (along with 30 years of dog walking) that have given me the opportunity to enjoy drinking without the shitty next morning syndrome, well for some, it can last more than a couple of days to recover after a boozy night.  Anyway, check out Yoga and the art of breathing (Pranayama), it’s crucially amazing.  So, my Sunday starts positively and, it being the eve of my 43rd birthday i decide to book myself into a hotel/spa in Chester.

A bit of surfing of the net leads me to find Crabwall Manor Hotel. The photographs look stunning and i can’t help but be steered toward the ‘Junior Suite’.  That’s it, decision made. Booking.com and it’s sorted.

Check in time is 3pm. I leave my friend’s house at just after midday and stop en route to give the dogs yet another walk.  Nice little park, sun is out, trees are green, brown, red and gold as is the floor at their base. The air is crisp and my world feels calm and sparkly, and the two dogs, well, they’re in their element.

So we gets to the Manor Hotel (right next door to the Crabwall Residential Home) and the drive in is welcoming and looks quite awe-inspiring. Loads of trees and autumnal colours. I park up and head for reception.

A two night stay in the ‘Junior Suite’ is a little over two hundred bucks so when i got inside i was a wee bit surprised at the welcoming desk and the woman sat behind.  Maybe it’s me being horrid but she looked a bit flustered and windswept!  and there was no dress code (i.e uniform or smart suit etc).  She did however smile at me in welcome and i gave her my details. She recognised my name and said she’d put me in room 6 and that it was a nice room.  It became apparent soon after that there was a bit of a to do going on as another member of staff wafted in with walky talky and the woman had to make a call to inform a the gentleman at the end of the line that his girlfriend had not handed their door key back, it seems that he then hung up. In between this i asked if the room had wi-fi and she said, ‘yeah probably’.  Probably is not a word i warm to, unless of course it’s used in conjunction with a rather tepid beer. Anyway, that didn’t instill confidence in me. Plus, i know i was trying to get in my room before 3pm check in but she was having none of it. Instead, she got me to fill in a form with my details, morning call time preferred and profers a cheap and nasty biro that has the end missing from it.  Then she smiled again and steered me toward the Spa. So, i thought okay, i’ll go with this and grab the opportunity for a steam, sauna and swim – lovely!

Aha! within just ten minutes a bit of a u-turn – not so lovely! apart from one of the fitness instructors (who was very easy on the eye) – well, i’d gone up to the desk and said i’d like to swim and steam etc etc and i had to sign in and it was then i was handed a towel – i took it in hand and felt it’s age at the same time as seeing its threadbare demeanour, i actually felt sorry for it, that it still had to work at such a late age in its lifespan.

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I made my way to the changing room. I felt impending gloom and i got changed wishing i hadn’t chosen this venue to spend my birthday in. I wanted to go to the loo.

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I tiptoed to the shower and got myself a bit wet, in preparation for the steam room.  I was totally disappointed as soon as i stepped into the (small cubicle sized) room, feeling that there was definitely more steam coming off my mate’s kettle than there was in this space. I gave it 7 minutes and hadn’t broken a bead of sweat so i thought ok, i’ve still got the sauna to try. I go into that (small cubicle sized) room and sit down and then i lay down, knowing, this is going to take some time.  Fifteen minutes on and i have a thin-film of glossy perspiration on me. Resigned to the fact that this is as good as it’s gonna get i think to myself, at least there’s the jacuzzi. Now this was the funniest one for me because i reckon there’d have been more bubbles if i’d have farted in the damn thing. I made do with a twenty-minute swim (the photographer had made the pool look amaaaaazing on the website) – it was okay in reality.

So i dry my swimsuit as best i can with the hairdryer and then give myself the once over because i’m still feeling sorry for the towel. That done i head back to the desk to sign out. I consider complaining but decide against it – i must be running a temperature cos that’s not like me to not air my disappointment.

Back at reception the lady is still looking a bit askew.  I’ve got 10 minutes to wait until 3pm because she is adamant in not letting me into a room/suite before the given time.  The chap from earlier (with his walky talky) returns and i ask him if Room 6 has wi-fi, he gives me the same response as she, ‘probably’ and i return with the point that it was stated on the booking form that wi-fi was available in all rooms.  They look at each other, look at me and then by the time it’s 3.05pm they’re putting me in room 10. Walky Talky guy leads the way, whilst telling me there’s a bit of a problem with Room 10 in that the kitchen fan gives off a buzzing noise : constantly (well he said it stops when the kitchen closes but i found that to be untrue as it didn’t stop at all for the duration of my stay – but it was kind of comforting in a low down buzzy type of way). Anyway, he unlocks the door and invites me in.   Wow! bingo! I like it.

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and the green phone! well how smart is that (but it didn’t work) as i found out the next morning when there was no wake up call and then i see it’s 9.30am and breakfast ends at 9.30am so i jump up, throw on my track suit and cap, no wash of face, no early morning stretch, no brushing of hair or sweeping away of eye grits. Go to reception where another smiling face (and better dressed and groomed) lady greets me and i ask where the morning call was? and she apologises and says she’ll make sure i get a breakfast so i race out to the dogs (who spent the night in the boogie bus) and get them sorted with a nice little twenty-minute walk in the pissing down rain – and we’re all happy!  Luckily i’d spotted the rain and kitted myself out with cagool and Wellington boots so it wasn’t that bad.

Well anyway, back in the room and i strip off to my morning knickers and vest cos i just want to chill on my birthday morning.

I had enjoyed my birthday eve, just sitting off on a big fat couch with plumped up cushions watching comedy tv and writing and surfing the net and speaking with friends via text and instant messaging and drinking tea and eating biscuits, yeah it was nice … would have preferred to not have to jump up in the morning like a wild’un.

Then there’s a knock at the door and its breakfast, served by the receptionist!

ooooh, there’s a silver lid on my plate … i’m high on anticipation

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Breakfast Cost = £10

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and thankfully, it came with a very small eyelash on the edge of the plate – nowhere near the food.

I’m still sitting in my cartoon print knickers and star print vest when there’s another knock at the door, i’d almost finished my brekkie (remembering i leave the sausages for the canines!) .. so i answer the door, opening it just a smidgen so my state of undress remains hidden – it’s an engineer?!  i’m like, ‘i’m eating breakfast’ and i shut the door.

It’s only later that i go down to reception, see the same guy and he asks if he can get in the room to check the phone lines – that’s when it becomes clear as to why i didn’t get the wake up call, there’s me thinking it’s because of the changeover of rooms, cos i was supposed to be in 6 and then i ended up in 10.

Well i’ve had a bit of enough now and decide to complain and i speak to the receptionist and tell her that i’ll show her the photos i took in the Spa to prove it wasn’t the best experience.  She apologises profusely and offers me to talk with the Spa manager – ‘what can he do’ I say, ‘i can’t use the facilities today because they weren’t good yesterday’.  But it turns out she sends him up to my room anyway and it turns out the manager happens to be the eye candy instructor i’d spotted first thing on entering the Spa.  So we have a chat about what happened and i show him the photographs and he offers me a complimentary half hour back and neck massage (cost £40) – ok, nice, thanks.  Massage turns out to be okay, the therapist (Sarah) was absolutely lovely and really amiable and professional (but i’ve had many a massage and have been spoilt by the creme de la creme of experts!) so i’d probably give her a 6.8 out of 10, no disrespect to her effort, i’ve just had much better.  And, because i smelt wax in the air of the therapy room, it reminded me of my underarm situation, so, back at the Spa desk i ask if there’s room to fit me in for a quick hair removal. I’m led back to the treatment room and i say to Sarah, ‘i’ll have to pop back up to the room after to get my card to pay’ and she turns and says, ‘we’ll give it complimentary cos i’ve heard you’ve had a bit of a time of it so far’ …. So, underarm hair removal = £10.

I spend the day pretty much same as the day before, chilling out, typing, writing, checking all my birthday messages – 8 texts, 1 phone call, 17 facebook messages and 168 (and counting) facebook timeline posts.  I got 3 cards (but i have no fixed abode and have taken myself out of the social scene for the last three days).

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Just another quick addition, i opened one of the windows in my room – had to jump up to sit on window sill, looked out and saw this ….

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and there were some massive Koi Carp swimming about in there …. (this is the Caldwell Residential Care Home)

I’ve got a couple of hours left here in my ‘Junior Suite’ so i’ll sign off.  An early start is set for tomorrow as am heading further North to Leeds for some filming on Emmerdale.  I will be playing the role of a ‘Talent Contest Audience Member’.

 

http://www.crabwallmanorhotelandspa.com/home

a rainy start ………….

Notwithstanding not really having slept properly i jumped up from the sofa at 8.05am and deftly folded, plumped, smartened and tidied where i’d rested, then just as sharpish i gathered together my bags and the dogs’ bowls. The three of us padded toward the front door – the two dogs sniffed at my mate’s bedroom door as we passed it by, both wanting to say their goodbyes i’m guessing – but i had one aim and that was to leave quickly so as not to get a parking ticket for having left the van in the ‘resident permit parking’ bay (from 8am to 6pm). Feeling pretty washed out from having no morning freshen up, it added little zing to the day that, when i opened the front door to the flats, i was greeted with fine falling rain that was showing no signs of stopping. Me and the dogs jumped into the ‘Boogie Bus’ (my affectionate name for the Vito) and departed.

I took the dogs to a nearby park. Still in my clothes from the previous day along with wellington boots and cagool, at least i was dressed for the weather.  Dogs sorted i then asked myself what the day was going to be? drive to Lancaster to view a motorhome? drive to Spalding to view a motorhome? find somewhere to get a shower and wash? i decided to stop at the place i detest the most, McD’s so as to use their wi-fi.  I went in the one nearest the M62. Bought a large cup of tea for 99p (feeling too sick of habitually saying the word ‘coffee’ – which, up until three or four years ago i had hardly ever consumed) and then took a pew. Opened up my laptop and joy of joy, it was dead, no battery life. I sat with my head in my hands for a couple of minutes. Then took a couple of rounds of deep breaths and wondered what exactly i was doing with my life. I drank my tea, it was brown water but fascinatingly enough it tasted perfect for my given situation.  I had some fitful thoughts passing through my head, unclear as to whether they were snippets of my dreams or actual conscious requirements for the day ahead. Lost as to what to do i decided that mostly, i really wanted to get clean and be sheltered for the day so i sent a bit of a plea to my good friend in Chester asking if i could make use of her home for the day. And i sat and waited for a reply. Luckily enough she quickly came to my rescue and said ‘yes, of course you can’ via text messaging.

Thus, my spirits lifted and i jumped the boogie bus and made haste for the M62.  The journey started off challenging as the freeway toward the M53 junction was closed (for landscaping) and i had to follow a diversion, so once again, i was driving around not knowing particularly where i was in my daily attempt at living. However, to my relief, some fifteen minutes later i found myself on a stretch of road i recognised and once again, i was en route.

Safely landed in Chester, i walked the dogs as the rain petered out. My good friend had left me a key and so i let myself in and immediately cleaned myself up and settled with my re-charging laptop and hopped on to surf the net in my quest for finding a ‘house on wheels’, (which is becoming a chore now) and is messing with my ‘balance’ in life.

I sat on the sofa for most of the day, my friend returning home a couple of hours after my arrival – we chatted a lot as it had been a couple of months since we’d last met – we made plans to go out for dinner.

So two days after the lunar eclipse I felt no closer to having any understanding of what my life means in the here and now, other than to learn how to bite the bullet and get on with it.

‘I’d read somewhere ‘Think about it this way: An eclipse is the most powerful tool the universe uses to affect change. It will illuminate a situation in a new way so that we view it differently. Events move on fast forward at eclipse time, but it is important not to jump to conclusions, as all eclipses have a second act. Additional information related to the topic that comes up now will be revealed later, within weeks. Be patient, and take time to reflect on all you hear.

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