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I donot understand this site editor everything repeats itself like a recurring nightmare


 

 

 

 

Here I am playing the game

 

all around me people are going insane

 

Up each morning earning their daily bread

 

marx and lenin hardly being read.

 

 

 

Day turns to night

 

the digital light

 

burning

 

for what are we now yearning

 

 

 

worldly fine tuning

 

and the axis is turning

 

catastrophies leering

 

cajoling and steering

 

existential vapours caressing

 

 

 

our sordid desires

 

gaping deep

 

into our insatiable cordless fires

 

 

 

Still waters run deep

 

i am still playing the game,

 

 just not enough to see me again.

 

 

 

 

 

Why I still do it
Why I still do it  

 

 

Dip down Dip down

 

There ain't no damn trickle down

 

 

 

Prices have risen so proudly

 

Shares have gone through the roof

 

Your (ISAS) are safe as houses

 

Proudly remaining aloof

 

 

 

Dip down Dip down

 

There ain't no damn trickle down

 

 

 

The scum all waiting at the food bank

 

The loosers all sleeping in the park

 

Get off your sweet little asses

 

And fill out the forms below

 

 

 

Dip down Dip down

 

There ain't no damn trickle down

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

Living with Pilatus and Paul

 

Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

Everything was fine till passing that  call

 

Openimg  up and questioning  it all

 

The rebel beside me

 

Churning around breaking in turmoil

 

 

 

Living with Pilatus and Paul

 

Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

An inert joy inspired me

 

In Noticing the reaction And contraction

 

Of The effectivity of this state

 

On the consumer of my trait

 

 

 

Living with Pilatus and Paul

 

Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

Anger emotions out of control

 

Plastered nicely in my inner wall

 

avoiding confinement by the state ,

 

still leading to deepening  hate

 

 

 

Living with Pilatus and Paul

 

Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

 

 

Betrayed all along left to my fate

 

different to all at that date

 

No need to worry

 

Needless of  your sorry

 

 

 

Living with Pilatus and Paul

 

Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

A second voice out of control

 

My mind ignited inside me

 

I want to be good  

 

10 miles tall and seeing it all

 

 

 

 

 

Living with Pilatus and Paul

 

Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Glass Vitrine.

 

 

 

How was your day, i don't really care

 

Why do you worry, you don't have to fear,

 

Do you remember our first sweetend tear

 

Under my control, you have entered my lair

 

 

 

I cook to perfection the dish fore your eyes

 

But something is missing in your applause

 

Let me guide you, in dismantling walls

 

Believe me my darling, forget all them lies

 

 

 

Stop the press, only good news to go

 

All the rest you don't need to know

 

Stop the press, only good news to go

 

All the rest you don't need to know

 

 

 

I left some space, come sit down beside me

 

Time has been saved, your reminder light is now out

 

Leaving you, honey, without any doubt

 

Only with me, can you ever be free

 

 

 

Deflecting your thoughts, disecting your dream

 

I know all too well what you sometimes go through

 

Trust in me baby, i know what to do

 

Putting your life into my glass vitrine

 

 

 

Stop the press, only good news to go

 

all the rest you don't need to know

 

Stop the press, only good news to go

 

All the rest you don't need to know

 

 

 

Deflecting your thoughts, disecting your dream

 

Putting your life into my glass vitrine

 

 

 


 

 

Doing a favour was

 

not part of the deal

 

It was you and you

 

alone who set up this ordeal

 

 

 

Owing you

 

is void of all fun

 

a shot in the head

 

is better than none

 

 

 

I didn't ask

 

you offered it me

 

you were crawling

 

on your one free knee

 

 

 

to curry some favour

 

you put down your arms

 

you laid your rules

 

all in my palms

 

 

 

Your addictIon to return

 

disminshed those claims

 

his leadger of bad debts

 

is all that remains

 

 

 

v

 

 

 

He is fit for work Hes just putting it on

 

We cant write him off for so long

 

Hes bluffing hes huffing hes having us on

 

 

 

Collateral damage is part of the game

 

Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

 

 

Value for money, shareholders worth

 

Incremental movements pouring oil on the flames

 

Lets find lodgings for the remaining names

 

 

 

Collateral damage is part of the game

 

Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

 

 

 

 

Under us we will get him working again

 

Squeezing out the last marginal worth

 

Even if it means putting him under the earth

 

 

 

Collateral damage is part of the game

 

Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

 

 

 

 

The greed flowing out of the eyes

 

Mind accounting an extra comma here and there

 

Energizing the wealth with cool jelled down hair

 

 

 

 

 

Collateral damage is part of the game

 

Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

 

 

 

 

The shyers the conners the having it oners

 

Will reap what they sow as they pay as they go

 

Whilst we at the top wont need to know

 

 

 

Collateral damage is part of the game

 

Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He is fit for work Hes just putting it on

 

We cant write him off for so long
Hes bluffing hes huffing hes having us on

 

Collateral damage is part of the game
Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

Value for money, shareholders rebirth

 

Incremental moves pouring oil on the flames
Lets find lodgings for the remaining names

 

Collateral damage is part of the game
Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

Under us we will get him working again

 

Squeezing out a magical marginal worth
Even if it means putting him under the earth

 

Collateral damage is part of the game
Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

Addictive greed flowing out of the eyes

 

Mind accounting an extra comma here and there
Energizing the wealth with cool jelled down hair

 

Collateral damage is part of the game
Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

The shyers the conners the having it oners

 

Will reap what they sow as they pay as they go
Whilst we at the top wont need to know

 

Collateral damage is part of the game
Rolling on costs increasing the gain

 

Resilience is ... I am bending around , shrinking , changing my form. finding a place to fill, elastic , formable, deforming my shape , all fo rthe good of avoiding red tape. my brain is imploding -- too many ifs too many whys . overloaded emotions -- confusing lies-. which way to turn . no routes to take overcoming fears playing down threats ignoring effects-- welcome to denial .. Resilience is--

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SURROUNDED : Everything around me , has been used, carrying actions thoughts not all mine.. memories of where and when or from whom place time person , a memory game.. a symbol of poverty , banality meaness or wealth. trendsetter or admiiting defeat.. nothing exists all by itself. the inverse must be to provide (the old) for me

 

Out of date, still nutrition inside .. open the can beware its rusty outside.. pour in the pot energy switched on warming up degree by degree spluters and bursts heat turned down simmering along to the sounds of the waves inside steam arising aroma filling the time stood still walls . satisfaction a meal awaits .. out of date

 

... Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl Everything was fine till passing that call Openimg up and questioning it all The rebel beside me Churning around breaking in turmoil Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl An inert joy inspired me In Noticing the reaction And contraction Of The effectivity of this state On the consumer of my traint Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl Betrayed all along left to my fate different to all at that date No need to worry Needless of your sorry Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl A second voice out of control My mind ignited inside me I want to be good 10 miles tall and seeing it all Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

Henry

 

 

 

A bass in the corner

 

What a disgrace

 

It was Henry's, it was

 

Before he got it in the face

 

 

 

Playing so cool

 

His beat took up the room

 

Took up the room

 

Took up the room

 

 

 

Starting his life,

 

Playing on the farm

 

Which were o be fatile

 

As it was going to do him harm

 

 

 

Strumming in the band

 

With his fat and grizzly hands

 

He got the girls at dancing

 

Sweltering in the sands

 

 

 

Playing so cool

 

His beat took up the room

 

Took up the room

 

Took up the room

 

 

 

Past came a calling

 

Was it a sign for love?

 

Standing at the [thresher]

 

Suddenly comming alive

 

Throwing out eery sound

 

Stopping Henry's jive

 

 

 

Playing so cool

 

His beat took up the room

 

Took up the room

 

Took up the room

 

 

 

A bass in the corner

 

What a disgrace

 

It was Henry's, it was

 

Silence taking up the space

 

 

 

A loner in life just lost and found

 

No time left for the profound

 

The passing of time is a deceptive sign

 

Bordering on a thin line

 

 

 

Never connecting with those around

 

Failing all common ground

 

 

 

Underchallenged

 

Underachieved

 

Undernourished

 

Things he believed

 

 

 

Sinking down lonely, shut out but void of pain

 

Striving towards power glory and gain

 

Entrenched in ones self pity and shame

 

Plans all unwritten and (even) lame

 

 

 

Never connecting with those around

 

Failing all common ground

 

 

 

Misrated

 

Mislayed

 

Misvalued

 

Things he paid

 

 

 

Not fitting into any particular plot

 

Though every pan has its top

 

Looked down upon, scorned and misconstrued

 

Constantly being riddiculed

 

 

 

Never connecting with those around

 

Failing all common ground

 

 

 

Constipated

 

Conspired

 

Controlled

People he admired

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ode

 

 

 

you alltogehter got me back on my feet

 

you gave me some dosh to start a new line

 

thanks to you i am doing fine

 

 

 

i bought an old house

 

using loads of your things

 

inspired hundreds of others

 

to apply for new wings

 

 

 

the grass is now greener

 

on my side of the hill

 

ta for mentioning in your latest will

 

before your taking your last favourite pill

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everything was fine

Till the time

Came

My mind ignited

Opened up

Questioned it all and

The rebel inside

Churned around

 

A second voice out of control

Living with Pilatus and Paul

I wanted to be good

...

Living with Pilatus and Paul

(Reim auf Paul // crawl/sprawl/drawl)

 

An inert joy fired me

Noticing the reaction

And contraction

The effectivity of my state

On the consumer of its trait

 

Betrayed by my so called mates

I was different I suppose

What I ordered today

is consumed by tomorrow

No need to worry

about your sorrow

 

A second voice out of control

living with Pilatus and Paul

 I wanted to be good

 

Too many things started

but nothing complete

Long hours commissioned,

thinking on them feet

 

Provoking attachments,

But getting none

Disillusioned moments

Awarding deluded fun

 

Either or goes on tour

Pleasing little minds

Too many people start to bore

Smothering over all unkinds

 

Faces carresseing  solitude

Catalysed thoughts spuing out

Taking words  to allude

Confronting goals to surmount

 

Anger emotions out of control

Plastered nicely in my inner wall

surppresed concisely,

avoiding confinement by the state

still leading to hate  to a terrible  fall

 

Sadness deeply embroiled

etching away at my lonely soil

surppresed concisely, within

a hardness a softness  turmoil   a hardening softening turmoil

 

emmeresd in battle

paralyness analyness

outbursts of fear

combusting in a tear.

 

Deffering to authority

they had us by our balls

 

 

All the years fighting finding a place

All just started in the city's mall

Went up like a rocket that baseline ace

Carmouflage suckers planning to call

 

Losing it all with one embrace

No chance more (...)

Back to the roots, try and retrace

The rise and fall of (...)

 

Waking up with sweat on the face

Voices pushing towards a fall

All around are on this case

Touching, prodding, giving it all

 

Losing it all with one embrace

No chance more to (...)

Back to the roots, try and retrace

The rise and fall of (...)

 

Rolling on costs to increase the gain

(...)

Putting all the marginals to the deepest of shame

making the life so (…)

 

Losing it all with one embrace

No chance more to (...)

Back to the roots, try and retrace

The rise and fall of (...)

 

I've been damaged by your smiles

Ingratiated by your lies

Forced to break all my ties

Beneath (under) my body the truth lies

 

Worst of all

I started it all

...

[If there is a God hear my call

Held in by detection(s)

Trussed up perception(s)]

 

My thoughts unfocused and confused

Scattered and diffused

Intermittedly beaten and abused

Mutilated passions desperately (re)used

 

Worst of all

I started it all

...

[If there is a God hear my call

Held in by detection(s)

Trussed up perception(s)]

 

This is my case

Will I ever end this race

And bow down to save my face

Amongst the softness of heathen lace

 

Everything was fine

till the time

Came

my mind ignited opened up

quetioned all and

the rebel inside churned around finding an outlet

 

An inert joy fired me

noticing the reaction and contraction ,

the effectivity of my state

on the consumer of the action

 

A second voice out of control,

living with Pilatus and Paul

I wanted to be good  what i did was not too bad

a know all, show off, clumsy, desperate dan. Bad tempered, sneaked upon, shat upon bullied, blackmailed

big mouth, tantrums . anger outbursts  supressed aggression, deep sadness  suicidal thoughts /

 

 

(at 8 or 9 should i jump out of window Hildas called me stupid and come along  go out and play alone)

Betrayed by my so called mates Mark and Paul

I was different I suppose. Active never sitting still. Avoided conflict for my own good, did not have my anger under control did not want to be confinded by the state which i was already beginning   to hate)

 

Anger emotions out of control

Plastered nicely in my inner wall

surppresed concisely,

avoiding confinement by the state ,

still leading to hate

 

 

 

 

 

Sadness deeply embroiled

etching away at my lonely soil

a hardness a softness emmeresd in battle

paralyness analyness outbursts of fear combusting in a tear.

Deffering to authority

they had us by our balls

No holding back in showing

Who had all the calls

 

Motified , debilitated

following the course

defying all logic

no signs of remorse

 

 

Seething defiance

embossed on our souls

holding back with patience

filling in the wholes

 

paralising analysing

throwbacks all in line

trussed up emotions

waiting for the time

 

tantilisng freedom

caressing inner lives

stimulating contentment

only the best survives

the search, demand for perfection has always been used to create elites as an acknowledged pecking order,

unions have been scorned upon partnerschafts etc

group or team sucess is given less esteem

doing it on ones own gives the biggest orgasm

the sum of the parts should never be bigger than the whole  according to capitalist logic . economic and resource logic it is perfect

how many skills and ideas are killed by lack of teamwork and sharing and collaboration???

 

Too many things started but nothing complete

Long hours ,,,commissioned, thinking on them feet

Provoking enlatchments, getting none

Disillusioned moments deluded fun

Either or goes on tour

Too many people start to bore

Little things please little minds

Covering up all unkinds

Your face carresses my solitude

Taking words ahead to allude

Thoughts catalysing spuing out

Confronting goals to surmount

 

 

 

I ve been damaged by your smiles

Ingratiated by your lies

Forced to break all my ties

Beneath (under) my body the truth lies

 

My thoughts unfocused and confused

Scattered and diffused

Intermittedly beaten and abused

Mutilated passions desprately reused

 

Worst of all (I started it all) this is my case

Will I ever end this race

And bow down to save my face

Amongst the softness of heathen lace

 

you cant work withnout no structure

So i give you a hand , before you rupture

Your mind is working so miniscule

No time do you plan to look over the pool

 

Here I am playing the game all around me people are going insane Up each morning earning their daily bread marx and lenin hardly being read. Day turns to night the digital light burning

for what are we now yearning.

worldly fine tuning and the axis is turning catastrophies leering cajoling and steering

existential vapours caressing our sordid desires gaping deep into our insatiable cordless fires

Still waters run deep i am still playing the game, just not enough to see me again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Open Wednesday to Friday 12.00 to 19.00

Saturday 10.00 to 16.00

IF it is sunny and a bank holiday then I will close for the Friday and Saturday to enjoy a long weekend or a week off,

Still you still have 200 days a year to buy something

 

040 8514478

Stresemannstr 169

Hamburg 22769

Robert Berridge

 

 

 

Count your blessings that I ve come at all
there are other places to go
so let me see you crawl
or s hall we wait and enjoy your fall

 

24 7 is what we want and all you do is go off on a ball
too many books have passed through those hands
giving you thoughts above your place
why do you think you can save the human race

you are here to serve

our comfort system
not

to thow our whims i

nto a self built shoddy latrin


when its gone

it will seem you have never been
so get the door open and and fullfill our dream

you are bored and dare to waste out time
writng infantile poetry which dont even rhyme
if you cant do it well knock it on the head
or dig a big a whole

in your vegetable bed

this will become your most read

piece
packed away int that newly purchased shed
off the wheels turn, away, from the crowds
heaving with force massive turds,
so much better than words

 

 

 

It was as if i was born again

Until i saw i had become so thin

It was over , I had won but

little did I know the battle had just begun.

Floods of fluids were stuck in my veins seeking out just what remains.

Pines of slime trickled  in , the bystanders shook with every limb, not for me but their selves living somewhere within.

Flashes passing, touching sparks of joy did they know if  I were a boy or a girl, craving for an intravenous whirl.

kicking out  all senuous desires beyond belief of my living cells  counting the dead one by one.

Which were telling  lies

Turning over pages of love and hate waiting hopefully for a change to my fate pictures moving before my eyes doubts , regrets, images fading , swelling,soaked to pulp, will I see again a glimmer of hope.

Too late, you have had your fun since

the begining of time we have all

breathed, and infused ourselves with  this feeling,

but too late Oh, it is oh so too late. 

 

 

Grumpy old man

 

Its gone I want it back

Who took it and

Put it in an old sack

 

It was there now its away

I didnt notice until this day

 

As its free, you pay no fee

So much better than a cup of tea

 

Feelings lost entangled  nerves

Striving for those just deserves

 

Blank to pictures of tenderness

Retarded needs  soft carress

 

 Solid shutters bar the way

No gleam of light on this day

 

Slithers of hope flashing bye

Almost caught as here I lie

 

Resurgent emotions slowly rise

Big enough to fit my size

 

Make the move change the lane

You can find it once again

 

Its gone I want it back

Who took it and

Put it in a sack

                             Burns Night

January 25th marks the annual celebration of Scotland's national poet Robert Burns. Find out about his life and poetry, the Burns supper

 

Ae Fond Kiss

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; 
Ae fareweel, and then for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, 
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. 
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, 
While the star of hope she leaves him? 
Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me; 
Dark despair around benights me. 

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, 
Naething could resist my Nancy: 
But to see her was to love her; 
Love but her, and love for ever. 
Had we never lov'd sae kindly, 
Had we never lov'd sae blindly, 
Never met-or never parted, 
We had ne'er been broken-hearted. 

Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest! 
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest! 
Thine be ilka joy and treasure, 
Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure! 
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! 
Ae fareweel alas, for ever! 
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, 
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.


www.scotland.org/whats-on/burns-night

 

When i sit with no fear without a tear

I  hear the key slide in the lock

Hoping for a smile and a certain look

Observing reading like a favourite book

 

is she looking back 

wondering where shes coming at

what will she find

is she changing her mind.

knowing i am there

is she having a scare

 

When i sit with no fear without a tear  

hearing the key slide in the lock

Conjuring images crystal clear

Tender love a mellowing blear

 

Remembering the  scenes

as we first met

taking  a final bet

she chose me 

was my first thought thought

merely a last onslaught/ resort

 

 

When i sit with no fear without a tear

I  hear the key slide in the lock

Hoping for a smile and a certain look

Observing reading like a favourite book

 

my pride, there for me

 as i faintly hoped

was i mildly doped

no lights in her eyes

was I one of her lies

giving me soulful cries

 

When i sit with no fear

without a tear

I  hear/Hearing the key sliding in the lock

watching out for a leer

sitting up strangely straight

sensing no covered mock

 

Standing still all alone

Shining all coyly bright

Giving me her outstretched hand

Knowing  its  alright

Holding her rigidly tight

Sending me a perfect fright

 

When i sit with no fear without a tear

I  hear the key slide in the lock

Hoping for a smile and a certain look

Observing reading like a favourite book

 

 

as you drive passedas you drive passed

 

 

 

 

 

A small shop in the middle of Hamburg-

British Foods and English Books.

Language Training with Film and Theatre

Work Experience Placements

Cooking and Baking and Gardening

 

 

 

 

 

 When times are hard nothing better than bricks and mortar to keep you warm. The room for thinking and imagination, a place to ponder and think

 

 

 

 

Here I am playing the game all around me people are going insane Up each morning earning their daily bread marx and lenin hardly being read. Day turns to night the digital light burning for what are we now yearning. worldly fine tuning and the axis is turning catastrophies leering cajoling and steering existential vapours caressing our sordid desires gaping deep into our insatiable cordless fires Still waters run deep i am still playing the game, just not enough to see me again.the new holiday homethe new holiday home

 

my warehouse full of treasures to fund me in my old agemy warehouse full of treasures to fund me in my old age

 

 

 

 

 the chicken hut

 

 

 

The warehouse full for my old age

 

 

SURROUNDED : Everything around me , has been used,    carrying actions thoughts not all mine.. memories of where and when RefugeRefugeor from whom place time person , a memory game.. a symbol of poverty , banality meaness or wealth. trendsetter or admiiting defeat.. nothing exists all by itself. the inverse must be to provide (the old) for me
Out of date, still nutrition inside .. open the can beware its rusty outside.. pour in the pot energy switched on warming up degree by degree spluters and bursts heat turned down simmering along to the sounds of the waves inside steam arising aroma filling the time stood still walls . satisfaction a meal awaits .. out of date
 
... Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl
 
Everything was fine till passing that call Openimg up and questioning it all The rebel beside me Churning around breaking in turmoil
 
Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl
 
An inert joy inspired me In Noticing the reaction And contraction Of The effectivity of this state On the consumer of my traint
 
Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl
 
Betrayed all along left to my fate different to all at that date No need to worry Needless of your sorry
 
Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl
 
A second voice out of control My mind ignited inside me I want to be good 10 miles tall and seeing it all
 
Living with Pilatus and Paul Absorbing the urban spawl

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

view from inside this hi-tech businessview from inside this hi-tech business

 

 A great range of treats and special gifts

Like me on FACEBOOK

https://www.facebook.com/BritishFoodsEnglishBooks/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel

or search Robert Berridge or

Google:

British Foods Hamburg for current opening times or ring

040 8514478 and listen to message

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Resilience is ... I am bending around , shrinking , changing my form. finding a place to fill, elastic , formable, deforming my shape , all fo rthe good of avoiding red tape. my brain is imploding -- too many ifs too many whys . overloaded emotions -- confusing lies-. which way to turn . no routes to take overcoming fears playing down threats ignoring effects-- welcome to denial .. Resilience is--

 

 

 

 

 

 small is beautifulsmall is beautiful

 

 

 

June 26th 2005

Another bad week at the farm. The sun has been burning down and the holiday season is just beginning.

This means more gloom for me.

The person who I sub-letted my flat to is suddenly moving out and is trying to worm out of paying rent for

last two weeks although she is moving out earlier than planned. If I had not phoned she would not have told me until the very end.

I can only wish her unwell and disaster, as she certainly deserves no better.

The moral is do no favours unless it is in writing and one has some leverage. People will try to get away with not paying as much as possible. The more arty the worse they are.

Spinelessness is becoming a problem. Doing the right thing even when it is not of benefit for the person is stupid. Therefore, do only that which gives you benefit. Is the moto.

 

From here I will be starting my writing project. The hardest part is trying to find something to write about as I can`t claim to be the hottest scribe and my punctuation is almost non-existent. Not to worry I am sure some helpful person will tell me where I am going wrong or suggest I should take a course before pressing a key or using a spell checker.

A good theme is always about me. What has moulded me into the person I am today. I thought I would write as the memories come all the things I can remember. Then perhaps put them into some order, which is very unlike my style.

Every morning I am going to write for fifteen minutes and we will see what comes out.

 

Woke up at six with the memory of the air pistol which dad kept in one of the sheds we had at the bakery. The bakery is a treasure of stories by the way.

Shame I cannot remember how old I was ,but one of my habits was to always look through other peoples things and find hidden secrets. I was looking for something else , probably another of my fathers tools to break. I could have had one of my brainwaves and with no bit of patience wanted to push through the idea at all cost. Pulling out boxes in an uncontolled manner a few must have fallen onto the sawdust floor, I spotted the gun, Wow John Wayne rides again, Leaving the mess around I concentrated on the gun. I found how to reset it it and pulled the trigger like a demented S king figure. Naturally after a few rounds of rounding up my ugly sisters and repaying them for all those injustices, I have two brothers but they dont seem to exist in my memories yet, perhaps this writing adventure will bring them back again,

the gunned jammed and my trance was broken, jubilation now followed by fear,guilt and de ja voux.

What do I do with the gun where did it come from What story could I tell dad how I broke another of his few possessions. If only i had searched through systematically as they did in the man from uncle and why didnt i have a photographic memory like one of my sisters who seemed to notice every detail.

I decided on plan B . Hide it in a new place which time would forget. The shed seemed huge and I found another place noone would get to. Except, as it turned out later, by my dad who decided to teach the culprit i.e. me, a lesson.

How he knew it was me or took a parents calculated guess I found out only in my twenties as the family enjoyed one of those rare moments of admittting to doing nasty things to each other as a child.

The revealing of old mysteries time. 

My dad was a milkman at the time and as an eager four year old I loved going on the electric milk floats.

The day started at 4 or 5 o´clock and we marched off to the dairy, only 50 yards up the road.

Then going into the cool rooms and smelling milk. Fresh milk, sour milk, and off milk. Milk has a strange smell about it, partly innocence partly decay.

We then loaded the float Gold and Silver plus a few longer sterilised milk bottles. Not forgetting the canvass covered round-book which is a roundsman´s bible. I nearly forgot. the joy of my little fingers pulling out the plug which connected the battery charger to the float´s battery. there was a large switch which always made a loud clunk sound, this again enthralled me.

Off we went buzzing down Lovell Road knowing that half the road was asleep, but I Robert was fully awake with my dad doing some work. Walking up garden paths with a bottle of milk, looking for the empties and a note asking for an extra or the famous "no milk today" gave me a feeling of adventure. Early mornings give off a different feeling, even when it is raining and your fingers are dropping off.

Many customers took pity on me for being up so early, but I loved it. I am sure some offered us tea when it was cold but I cannot remember who. I cannot chase every ghost in my brain or can I ?

Money collection day was my first confrontation with the way life works. On this day things seemed different. We started later to catch people in. A few left cash in  envlopes on their door-steps, others had it ready as my dad called, and then some were always out. They would be caught in the evening. I knew who were the bad payers as they were suddenly left out and then included in the round.We were not the only family in the Royal Ascot and Windsor area which was short of cash. 

 

Winning was important. At my junior school I was the best in my class. Running and football in the sports field. But I had such a bad temper,still do, and I could not stand being told what to do or how to behave.

 

These commands were all tricks to prevent me reaching my goal of winning. It was never the praise of my teachers i sought. They all thought I was a know-all, a big-mouth, bad-tempered, cheeky and difficult to  control. It was for me. I was a loner. I wanted to earn my own money, do my own thing.

I won prizes for the best project and my favourite teacher Mr Crisfield would talk to me for ages before I went on my evening paperround at 10 years old. He waited for the bus to Windsor. I often wondered why he spent so much time talking to me I did not find myself so interesting. He was the type who liked giving,but he was very strict, still I got away with so much. Shows what happens when as a child your academic performance is good and you can walk the line between being tolerated and going over the top.

Teachers will tolerate much more if the material has been learnt

A blind eye was turned to most my actions. All rules were to be broken ,but not so much as to need great repairs. I was going to be the one who sneaked through the net. I was going to make my own decisions and decide what the school was going to teach me. Subjects I loved I was number one or two, others were torture.

My efforts to have friends were not so successful, always one every three years who later moved away. Class-mates were in the end traitors, I was very talkative and got on with adults,but peers seemed to hate me or ignore me and I started ignoring them or protecting myself. I had a reputation for being tough. I do not know why as I hated hitting people and had a guilty conscience when in a fury I struck out. I was a big kid lifting, sacks of flour must have given me more power in my arms than I thought.I got into most trouble by sticking my nose into other kid´s affairs. The usual big-mouth things then they would say prove it and I would bowl them over. Basher Berridge strikes again. 

My first challenge as a roofer

 

Yesterday was an historic momemt. For the first time ever I did not have a customer in the bookshop. The effect is to have half your crops lost. At the present rate It will take a month of good days to compensate for this day. I feel for all victims of natural disasters.

And I wonder How my mum and dad kept plodding on in the bakery as our customer base died off and new shopping patterns emerged in the light of higher mobility , double earning housholds and the drift away from hand-crafted products.

No wonder he was depressed. Six bolshy children, long hours, moaning cutomers and at 50 not the best candidate for jobs which did not require a talented self-taught all-rounder.

Their stamina puts my generation to shame.

Now the problem lies in that costs are so high you have to run to stand still and not fall into the debt trap.

I worked in the bakery as part of our generation contract and learnt how to work with dough and use an oven. The smell of freshly baked bread and the toffee on the base of the rich lardy cakes takes me to a higher plain of pleasure.

12 years old and cutting dough to the gram just by sight and feel. My fingers were magic.Moulding delicate  dough into a plait, Cottage loaves and finger rolls. Dad did it two handed, so perhaps my hands were not so magic after all.

It is another day, I am feeling a little uplifted. Apart from the van problem. Who do I ask to get it fixed and where do I get the money from?

Earning my own money is ingrown.By 14 I had the post of village gardener and paper boy. Pay ranged from 25 pence to 50 pence an hour. 1 pound for snow clearance. It used to flood at one end of the street:cars still went into the flood water at a tremendous speed thus creating a new market for us local youth. Engine stalled, carbereter full of water. We ready for action for a small fee. Heavy rain or snow was good for our business. When the council carried out road repairs and put in new drainage I had to think of new sources of revenue.

Gardening was an enjoyment. Peter Berridge that is dad always had worries that I would pull out not only the weeds or break the patrons tools. Another compensation claim brewing. Not that I proved him wrong I just kept it quiet. But learning by destroying is the fun part of growing up. not only that, all those tips Mr Stagles passed onto me I have used which shows how important it is for kids to have grandparents or something similar. Knowledge has to be passed on. Passing it on is one of the reasons for getting it in the first place. Isn´t it ?

It is Saturday. Saturdays always reminds me of the breadround and football and chips shallow fried by my Grandmother. who had a good supply of fresh chicken in the garden.

Football. I was in the Primary School Bracknell and District team reserves at this level the differences are very wide.From the bad to the disastrous.Nevertheless, you can see clearly how each has his role to play in the ladder of excellence. Without the losers the stars would not shine or even get a chance to play.

A lesson for those elitists who believe the plebs should be grateful. it is the other way round.

Even playing football made me no friends.Perhaps it was me. I will have to ask those who observed me as a youngster to give me their impressions. Why did we not become friends or mates?

I got to know my area really well travelling around on the Moores Coaches. Looking at maps for dad to pick me up or I walked home to save the bus fare. I didn´t have my own boots. I can remember dad giving me a pair of old rugby boots with a steel cap, good for punting the ball. After seeing all the other kids with the latest Adidas and Puma I was forced into buying a pair too, out of the gardening money.

My game did not improve, but my stamina and determination remained solid.

I have had a break as bad news keeps hitting me . My bus needs a new engine. Shop has been very quiet again and I will lose part of my no-claims bonus as Susanne reversed into a parked car. I am still amazed trhat despite my appalling driving style and lackof concentration, I have not had a driving accident yet.

Finding new students is also becoming difficult. Well around here anyway. I dont want to desert this area as for reasons of spatial equity It needs a place of culture and civilisation but the purchasing power is so low as well as the interest that I am going to have to ,sooner or later, abandon the place.

It is nice for the residents to see something bright and cheerful, but income must come in. As soon as a few make it and increase their buying power they forget we exist. If you can´t beat them join them. 

I was in the Boy Scouts and each year we raised money for the association through Bob a Job week.

You knocked on doors and asked the owner If they had a jod to do. Each job cost a Shilling or 5 pence.

I always raised most money and I was given a prize of a bomber aeroplane one year. Very appropriate for the peace loving Scouts and it was broken, probably a recycled present of our wonderous Scout master. My first days away from home were also with the Cubs. Camping excursions to some spinny nearby. The camps were always simple but text book cases of how boys wanted a weekend. Camp fire songs bangers and mash and games, mostly team games to increase team spirit and powers of cooperation. As I was only 10 as a cub I did not take any notice of the sexual innuendos of the older Scouts who were 12 to 15. Especially, when we were in a field next to a paddock for horses and Stallions.On these camps there was always a female cub leader and a male Scout Master. This fact alone got the older boys imaginations going.

I was always exited about the next game to win or the next task to pass and the next badge. Bronze silver and gold were the levels and for each their were set tasks to complete. Knots, mapping,general knowledge, First Aid etc . This please note, is just off the top of my head. Should I be more accurate, may be But I am also using this to test my memory. I fear If I start looking up the facts I will getted bogged down and lose my flow.. yeh yeah good excuse. 

Tomorrow will come. 

Off to the dentists today to get a new filling. Another attack on my budget. Bad news never comes alone.

I don´t mind going to the dentist. In fact I find it quite relaxing lying there with my mouth open.

I have never taken care of my teeth as with most things I put my trust in luck and fate. Living in abakery cum seet shop was a hard thing. Iwas always munching something, noone ever accused me of not havng an appetite. Dad had to go to the wholesalers and I went with him. We had sweets in jars, sold by the quarter. An ideal situation as I could try one or two and perhaps three from each jar without anyone knowing. Except mum and dad, as that is what they did. Never brushing my teeth regularly, as asked, I got a lot of fillings and my mouth became crammed with heavy metal. But that was a phase, from 10 onwards, after the damage had been done, my visits to the dentist were very unspectacular. Quick check, no holes, sand stone out and off you go.

I do remember being given gas as they pulled out my first set of teeth. See we get two chances with our teeth and still do not learn. I think at this point my dentist could have had a word with me. Prevention was not a key word at the time.

 

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We were brought up surrounded by dogs, cats ,rabbits,and chickens.

In the back fields the local farmer grazed his sheep and cows. Across the road was the pig farm and the stud farm. This was not a place for those with sensitive noses or any hair allergies. 

Rural bliss pure, with the added advantage of being only 20 miles from the centre of London.

Lets start with the dogs.

Jock,Bruno and Jack, plus the latecomer Laddie who was saved from the evil clutches of my dad´s sister , i.e. my aunt.

Jock was a dark almost nearly Labrador.Always sat in the passage. I was never attacked by him and I left him alone. Bruno was a different case.Friendly dog except when eating and having his tail pulled. I experienced him in both situations.He was also the reason how I came to be the family pet undertaker. Any bodies lying around would be taken care of in the pet cemetry at the bottom of the Garden.

Bruno gave me my first scar on the young innocent face. I suppose it has added a rough charm. At that time it was enourmous,my nick-name scarface also came to be.

So why did he bite me. Answer Bruno stuck his teeth into my new football and I pulled his tail.He took his revenge and I went running to my Grandma blood dripping down my cheek. Old fashioned Dettol slapped on,bandaged up and sent to bed. Meanwhile Bruno got a bone as It was assumed I had provoked the dear dog into ripping my cheek out.I did not hate the dog as it was my fault,I told him the same as I was burying him 12 years later.

Monday . Another week begins. My van needs new engine and I am hoping T/O will be enough to pay for it bit by bit. Light on the horizon: more shows are coming up, but there is also only a fifty-fifty chance that they will make money. That means I have to do at least 6 to get a good average. My nerves are slowly being worn down. Lets hope the Opel still goes, well at least for the next six months.

I can also convert the van into a sales trailer, paint on scenes of Britain and use it as a storeroom.

Make the most of a crap situation.

Actually, considering the situation I have stayed relatively calm. This has changed. I used to be intolerant of things going wrong, Is this a good change?

Being mediocre is very straining. I would like to be superb at one thing, but somehow I get so far and then think of all the other things I want to do before my ship sinks. If I were earning enough money to pay real economy wages all would be well.My problems would be solved with a mere €400 job in the mornings or late at night.

This self-pity is enough. I will have to go on the markets and get used to rejection again.

At school I was always rejected by the girls and cliques so I should be used to it. The trick is to take other work with you so you get a feeling of getting something done. Small things , the paperwork or make a few calls. Never take the mobile, I broke or lost the last two, still there is the to do list. Asked a bank for loan, but income does not meet their new requirements. Too many people have used their rights for Private Insolvency that track record has no influence on the decision anymore.

So sod company, product, spatial and customer loyalty. 

 

After another long break start again.5.3.06.

Spittel was deep in snow and reminded me of our snow clearing efforts. Next door to us were the Harrison´s. Well to do family , very proper. But did not like snow.Dad, Richard and myself had the task of digging out the car. Without scratching it that is.

Five shillings each, dad was there to supervise, but it caught on as other neighbours saw the benefits of us doing the heavy work. Another week where the wolf was kept from the door and Richard and I had a little more money to hoard away.

Child labour is not as bad as they say. When else can the lower classes learn something useful. At 16 the priviledged classes wont want to teach them (us) anything. 

I should have been a builder and carried on working on the building sites. Then at least I would not be attacked by fear everytime I listen to another story why the house will cost 50,000 for a roof..

I am going to find a way to get it done myself, alone, single-handed. Using pulleys and supports.

Double platforms and scaffolding.

Easter 2005

In five days I will be back in Spittel. 9 days of building work. I am going to be brave and saw some wood to size. Actually measure it up and drill holes for the bolts.

The weather should be fine for cement and I can fill some holes in the Gables. Or more exact do some pointing. Any place where there is a hole I will fill it with cement. I will also treat the wood with preserver and find the wood worm.

A thought occurred to me of building an outdoor shower room against one of the walls. it would be good practice for me and we have enough old roof tiles. 

20 April 2005

Easter has come and gone and my discipline to write every day has also gone with the Lemmings. But I have started again. The van is being repaired. Not sure if that is good or bad. In the circumstances it has to be done as I need a van for my outside work.

If things do not improve soon the wolves will soon be going for my two veg and I have not got any pleasant choices to make. At the moment I am de stocking and handing out more flyers. I will have to make it more British. It is still a mystery the lack of student customers although there are four schools within a radius of 2 kilometres. I still can teach a little more.

If only I could shake off this depression. It is driving me crazy.

Last weekend we started clearing out Spittel. It is like going back in time and we have to keep it so. Wonderful for my sense of improvisation. I am already planning the first Reading Weekend.

Imagine reading those old classics and history books in a house and area where Napoleon had been walking and thousands of hopes had been built.

The countryside is out of an Hapsburg epic, I am constantly turning around expecting to see the Light Brigade  swarming down the valley.

Queueing up to try out our Chi machine and Noni Juice, not forgetting the hand piston massage machine.

If you are not up to the hard life B & B´s are not too far away. We even have a guest´s car and bikes