Is Billy Jones actually dead? D`oh!

Two steps forward - one step back today but that`s still progress isn`t it?!!
I once went on a computer course:-
`Beginning Computers- Part One`
Didn`t complete it- found it too confusing.If the tutor had been either Jenn or Elaine I`d be designing web pages now at the least.
Patience of saints doesn`t begin to describe them!

Final Tribute

Hello everyone. Sorry I couldn`t be there today. Here`s my homework contribution. Would welcome comments. Hope you have an enjoyable day

The first time I went on the ferry across the Mersey, I took my mother with me in my handbag.

We weren`t close, but at this present moment in time, we couldn`t be closer - me sitting on the wind and rain lashed deck - water dripping down my neck and cheeks - her resting quietly and protected on my lap. We didn`t often go out together so this was an unusual occurrence to start with.

We didn`t speak, and I didn`t know, and never knew, if our silences were companionable or just intervals of time that were necessary in order for the inexplicable and ever present resentments to flourish and grow.

Resentment - sadness - grief - deep loss - deep love - mix them all up and what do you get? This, I suppose.

If she could speak to me now - what would she say? If I could speak to her now - would she hear me and what would I say?

So I sit here, hearing nothing except the sound of the mechanical choking of the ferry`s motor and the squawking protests of the low flying seagulls, deeply breathing in this paradoxical peacefulness.

Although I`m not completely comfortable with what I`m about to do, I know for sure it`s what she wants. She said it so many times and it`s written in black and white.

She ends where she began but who notices her final tribute to the city she loved except me and the Liver Birds who stare indifferently out?

The Shoe Tree

The Shoe Tree came up in today's creative workshop because I started talking about my garden. Writing about gardens sounds boring, doesn't it? But not my garden. Oh no. Where do I start?

This is a picture of The Shoe Tree - not mine - mine looks like a normal tree now but it used to be covered in pairs of trainers. What surprised me was the good condition of the trainers!

What else have I harvested from my garden in Noctorum? Beer cans, crisp packets, used condoms, lump of suspicious smelling substances and even the odd rocket firework. All this inspired a story which I will blog about later.

We all started our own blogs last week - Margaret decided her first post would be a picture of David Morrisey, who she once met at New Brighton. It sounds like the start of a Mills and Boon novel...

Looking through my window and seeing people outside is pretty normal and sometimes even reassuring you might say and I`d have to agree.
Don`t get me wrong - I`d say I was a people person, sociable and all that, but I am getting fed up at finding people in my garden.
When they walk past chatting, it`s ok. When the kids kick the ball in and come and ask for it, it`s ok. When the postman delivers something, it`s ok. When visitors call, it`s ok.
When I come back home and find kids playing football in my garden, it`s not ok. when I`m laying on my bed on a summers evening with the window open and ,up close, I hear the kids shouting, laughing and swearing, it`s not ok. When I hear footsteps on the roof late at night, it`s not ok.