Victor's Little Bookshop.

As far as I can recall I never ever saw my late older brother Victor read a book. I remember he used to like reading the Daily Mirror when he was sat on the toilet in the mornings but that was about the extent of his reading material. So, it was a surprise when he became the owner, along with his friend Tom, of a small bookshop in Camberwell, London. There was nothing grand about the shop. In fact, it was basically just a rather dingy little one room down a side street. I think, to be honest, the main function of the bookshop was as a place to sell the newspapers which were its main source of revenue supplemented by several newsstands around London.
I was pleased to spend time with my big brother Victor because circumstances beyond both our control, had kept us apart for far too long. At twelve years old Vic was my hero. So, it was that I was helping out in the bookshop when the notorious book Lady Chatterley’s Lover written by DH Lawrence was cleared at the Old Bailey of being pornographic.

Lady Chatterley’s Lover
Oil on canvas board.
20in x 16in

The little bookshop suddenly became extremely busy. People were, it seems very keen to read the book. Not surprising considering all the publicity the trial had attracted. Some people were open in their desire to purchase the book but there were many who had to conquer embarrassment to enter the shop let alone purchase the book in question. It should be remembered that in those days, life was not as liberated with regards to sexual matters as it is today. Sex was a rather taboo subject. Indeed, pornography was illegal. How times have changed. Many of the men who bought the book asked for it to be put into a brown paper bag. Some would enter the shop and make a pretence of browsing the shelves before plucking up courage to pick up a copy.
I felt extremely pleased when Victor told me that at age twelve, I was the youngest person in the whole world and probably even the first person in the world, to sell a copy of Lady Chatterley’s lover.
I expect some of you might be wondering if I had a read of the book? Well, I have always been a prolific reader and so, yes, I did read it. Very instructional. I learned such a lot from it. I think it was what subsequently caused me to become such an excellent lover and irresistible to the ladies!

Lady Chatterley’s Lover
Oil on canvas board.
20in x 16in

Bowler Hats and Pinstripe Suits

This is my latest painting.

My big brother Victor who I hadn’t seen for years turned up suddenly at my foster home. He and his friend had a bookshop and a newspaper stand near the Admiralty in London. During the school holidays Vic gave me a job there selling papers. I had to shout out, “NEWS AND STANDARD”. I was a bit shy about shouting out at first but soon got used to it. I loved that job and I was very happy to be with Vic.
Most of the customers came from the Admiralty. They spoke really posh and wore bowler hats and pinstripe suits. Lots of them gave me a tanner for the newspaper and told me to keep the change.
One day one of the posh blokes who had a big handlebar moustache found a ten-bob note on the ground and he looked at me and said, “I say young fellow I think you should have this,” and he gave it to me.
Ten bob? Cor blimey! That was a good day.
Some days Her Majesty the Queen went past in her golden carriage. She always gave me a friendly wave but usually I was too busy to wave back.
The bag for the money used to get really heavy. I think Vic and his friend made a lot of money from selling newspapers. They also had the concession to sell newspapers and sweets off a trolley to the patients in Charing Cross Hospital just down the road. I liked going around the wards with the trolley. I don’t think that would be allowed these days.
The business came to an end when Vic’s friend disappeared with all the money they had saved up. I won’t tell you what Vic said about that!
That what I said earlier about the Queen. I made it up, sorry. But I am pretty sure if she had seen me, she would have waved. She seems like a nice lady.

Bowler hats and Pinstripe Suits.
Oil on canvas board
20in x 16in.

Fergie Peeling Potatoes.

Another of my memories from childhood. Painted from my imagination. It was difficult working out where the light from the lamp and the fire should fall. Here is a drawing I made in preparation.

Fergie was an amazing cook. He never had any problem going to sea on the trawlers as a cook. He would also get work as a cook/saw doctor in the lumber camps.
He enjoyed peeling potatoes for some reason. I have painted him doing just that. He would sit like this a lot. Hunched over. Sitting quietly, smoking a cigarette. Perhaps he was reflecting on life? When he was sober he was a good role model. He wasn't an alcoholic but when he had money from one job or another he would binge drink to oblivion. I loved Fergie.

Fergie peeling potatoes.
Oil on canvas board.
20in x 16in

Fergie peeling potatoes.
Oil on canvas board
20in x 16in

Thanks for calling in. I am pleased you are still stopping by.

Painting From Memory.

I am not wishing to tempt fate but I have to say I am feeling very well. No angina for a while now. Perhaps the no sugar, no cakes or biscuits diet is doing some good. I have refused the tablets the doctor offered except for a daily aspirin -supposed to be daily but more like 'now and then' when I remember. I am walking easier and for longer too. Mia the German Shepherd is pleased about that. I stroll along, stopping frequently to take photographs.
Did I mention I saw a psychiatrist recently? The reason was to try and assess any damage those traumatic years have caused. Not my idea. Lawyers for the council trying to wriggle out of things. That was a month ago. I haven't heard anything back about it. She - the psychiatrist - said she was going to read my book. She already knew a frightening amount about me. I wondered how she knew so much, but then remembered I had told my lawyer lots of stuff and he had passed it on. She had my medical records too. I had forgotten so much about the mental issues I had gone through over the years. I think my mind shut them out, or maybe all the pills I was taking blotted out the bad things? Anyway, as I say, I am feeling well at the moment.

Here are a couple of paintings I have recently done. They are memories from childhood. Happy ones this time. I paint them without reference to anything except memory. I quite like the naivety this produces, although I am striving for more of a looseness in my work. Maybe I will keep this style in my works from memory and try to attain looseness in my other paintings particularly the portraits. Nobody has the time to sit for a portrait these days. I am thinking of advertising for someone to sit for me. Maybe a small payment will attract someone?

Mum is a princess and she lives in a bender tent in the forest with Fergie and Scamp
Oil on canvas.
16in x 12in

Mum and Fergie moved into the nissen hut next to Alec's wagon. She was happy there. She made it cosy and made a vegetable garden.

The Wagon and the Nissen hut.
Oil on canvas board.
20in x 16in

I am very pleased with the easel I made. It is great being able to afford to buy plenty of paints but I am still in the habit of being too frugal with them. A habit I need to break I think.

Here is a song for you. It sounds sad but it doesn't reflect how I feel. I am happy. I just felt like singing it.

Thanks for popping by.

Ain't Got The Blues About The Blues.

My friend Jon came round today to teach me some guitar techniques. Somehow it ended with me playing the blues on the harmonica. I never was able to get the bluesy sound before but somehow I managed to bend some notes today.

About My CT Scan

Artist's Easel. Home-made.

You can buy an artist's easel. There are many different types. There are cheap ones, There are middle of the range ones, and there are expensive ones. I have never had a really good easel so I decided it was time to treat myself to a decent one. I started looking. Crikey, the ones I liked were really pricey. "No way," I thought to myself, "I ain't paying that!" I had unhappily resigned myself to buying something cheaper, less suitable when it suddenly occurred to me that I should have a go at making  one myself.
What I came up with was the easel of my dreams. Had I bought something similar it would have cost around £1000. This easel I have made cost me less than £10. It is made from part of the carcass of an old sofa, bits and pieces of old timber that was lying about the place, a 5kg barbell, two small pulleys, six eye hooks, a length of steel wire and some screws.
I am very pleased indeed with it. Here is a video of me showing how it works and a photo of it finished with a coat of paint.Please excuse my appearance. I forgot to dress up for the event.

I hope you are well. Thanks for calling by.

Julian the Janitor.

I met Julian the Janitor down the Co-op yesterday. D’you know him? Tall, thin bloke? Shaves his head? Always wears dark glasses rain or shine? He got a bit famous in the seventies when his photo was featured on Crimewatch on the telly? Really, that should be infamous, but he prefers to think of it as famous and I wouldn’t want to spoil it for him. His modus operandi was to burgle blocks of flats and if anyone got suspicious and challenged him he used to say, “I’m Julian, the Janitor”. D’you remember him now? No? Oh, well, maybe you’re too young? Anyway, that’s all by the by. He’s been going straight for years. Mainly because he’s an old bloke now. To be honest I can’t even remember his real name. Not that it matters. To me and everyone else who knows him he will always be Julian the Janitor.
We got chatting like you do and the subject got onto television sit-coms. Turns out we both like Only Fools and Horses. “Did you see the one where they dropped the chandelier?” He asked me, starting to laugh just at the thought of it
“Yes,” I said, “that was brilliant.”
“And the one where he was trying to impress some women and leant against the open bar counter?”
“That’s my favourite episode,” I said.
Julian the Janitor picked up a meat pie and raising his dark glasses he scrutinised the label, “You tried these?” he asked. Not waiting for an answer, he went on, “remember when Del went for a medical and the doctor asked him if he had ever had trouble passing water and Del said ‘well, I did have a funny turn once coming over Putney Bridge.’ I tell you I literally laughed my head off at that one.” Deciding against the pie he put it back on the shelf as he began to laugh at the memory.
“They stitched it back on alright then,” I said.
“What?”
“Your head.”
“What about my head?” He had stopped laughing.
“Well, you said you literally laughed your head off, so I said, they stitched it back on alright then. I was making a joke.” Noting the look on his face I suddenly remembered that Julian the Janitor once had a reputation as a hard man. “Those pies,” I said, “are bloody good mate. You should try one.” I decided to steer the conversation onto safer ground. “What do you think about all this immigration business?”
Julian the Janitor sighed deeply, “Don’t get me started,” he said. But it was too late I already had.

Boy, Am I In Hot Water?

Now that I am getting on in years the simple life is getting harder so I have been working at giving my life a bit of comfort. To that end I have installed a proper bathroom. With HOT water. Central heating too! What absolute bliss to have a bath and a shower and a proper wash basin. Twenty odd years I have been living in my showman's wagon. Most of those years without even a cold water tap. It is probably difficult for all you house dwellers to understand my excitement. Here are some pics. Come and have a bath with me!

CT Scan.

My beautiful daughter Jodie drove me to the hospital. My extremely handsome son George came with us. I was early for the appointment but was seen straightaway.

I had been told exactly what was going to be happening by several different people, and despite telling myself not to be such a nervous wreck, I still felt worried as I lay on the table in my hospital gown waiting to be CT scanned.

A cannula was inserted into the back of my hand ready to put an iodine-based solution into my veins. This is to enhance the images they take. They put some saline in first to make sure it is going to work. To be honest it was the thought of having this iodine solution flushed through my veins that was causing me the most concern.

I needed my heart rate to go below 55 beats per minute before they could start the scan, but it wasn’t happening. A doctor suddenly appeared at my head. “Hi John,” she said smiling, “my name is Nadine. I need to give you a small injection. Your heart is going a bit too fast.”
I could see the numbers on the screen. 60, 66, 59, 62. My heart was having a hard time making up its mind. “Two milligrams should do it,” I heard Nadine say, presumably to the radiographer Gina.

A minute later Nadine’s face was at my head again. “Just going to give you another injection John we need to get that heart rate down a little more.” Then to Gina again, “Five milligrams.”

I watched the numbers going down. Finally, they reached the required figure and the scan could begin. Gina instructed me to put my arms behind me and not to move.

The scanner took over. A computerised voice told me to take a breath and hold it. This happened several times. I was ready for it having been told at my pre-assessment to practice holding my breath for fifteen seconds. I managed this easily enough.

Out of the scanner I came. A man’s face appeared at my head. He said his name, but I didn’t catch it. “I am going to give you an injection,” he said.
“What’s this one for?” I asked.
He didn’t answer but said, “Open your mouth, I am going to squirt this under your tongue.” Then he was gone. It tasted horrible.

Back into the scanner. I felt the solution going in through the cannula. It seemed to take an age. I had been warned what to expect. The hot flush, the bitter taste in my mouth, the sensation that you have wet yourself and they duly occurred.

It was all over. I slowly got to my feet and wobbled back to the waiting area where EHS George was waiting for me. After an hour I could leave. Tricia, EHS George’s mum arrived to take us home.

My results should take about four to six weeks to come through.

Stoned Out Of My Mind.

It was cool today. I'm not being hip by saying it was cool. I mean the weather was cool. Like in not hot. It has been unbearably hot for weeks. Unbearable for me that is. Tricia, my extremely handsome son George's mother loves the heat. 72 degrees fahrenheit is my upper limit. After that I'm done for. Luckily my showmans wagon home and my workshop remain relatively cool. This happened after I put the false roof on. It has created a space for the hot air to disperse before it reaches the inner roof. It wasn't intentional on my part. It is however a most welcome happenstance. Mia the German Shepherd loves to lie on the earth floor of the workshop to cool down.

We went for a walk, Mia the GS and I or should that be Mia the GS and me? I never know. Perhaps I knew once but have forgotten. I have forgotten a lot of what I used to know. Forgotten more than I now know. If it should happen that I got on to a quiz show my main problem would be needing a lot of time to recall answers. I would be hopeless against the clock. I think I shan't bother.

This walk of ours today. It was a slow paced ramble. On my part at least. Mia the GS has boundless energy and was to and fro all the time. She rarely goes further that a hundred yards in front before she dashes back to check I am still there. Apparently it is a GS trait not to go too far ahead. Quite touching really. We walked to the reservoir. Mia GS had a swim. I saw a little egret. These birds are becoming more common. Not so long ago they were not seen here at all. Buzzards are often seen  nowadays. They too were very rarely seen not that long ago having been persecuted for years. The occasional sighting of a red kite lifts the heart too these days.

The fields around here are full of small flintstones. For some time now I have been trying to find the perfect round pebble when I walk. I haven't yet managed to find a perfectly round one but I have come close. It is out there somewhere. If you scan the ground as you walk you will probably not be successful trying to find one. The secret of success is not to look for them. My best finds have happened when I wasn't actively searching the ground. Good luck made me look down at just the right moment. Haha you probably think I am quite mad or the sun has fried my brain. Searching for a round pebble indeed! I promise you it is not an obsession. Honest. I intend to one day leave my pebble collection to the nation.

My magnificent almost round flint pebble collection.

Thanks for stopping by.

De-Activated

Once again I have deactivated my Facebook account. It used to be a happy place to visit but lately it seems to be mainly a platform for political views. I do occasionally find something political to agree with but I change my mind so often that I just don't know where I am most of the time. Anyway, a lot of the purveyors of political views seem very angry about everything. As if they expect everyone to agree with their views. As if their views are the only valid ones. As if their views are always the right ones. Well, no, they are not. I try not to do politics. It is an unhappy place to go. Donald Trump and Brexit are the main discussions at the moment. Thousands of people took to the streets recently to protest about both these matters. A last word on this and then I shall shut up. Yes, thousands took to the streets to protest, but millions did not take to the streets. They stayed home. Obviously content with the way things are. So, no Facebook for me at the moment. Oh, I know it won't last, because I am addicted but I am trying.

Here are some pics of what I have been up to lately. The stool was made from a lump of very heavy timber. I don't know what type of wood it is. I made the back and legs from an old dining room chair. I added the old penny as an afterthought. It is a 1918 penny and as it is now 2018 I thought it was a good idea. Doing this made me think of the 1914/1918 war. A little personal remembrance.

The chair back was too broken to retain the original shape so I cut the broken bits out and inserted some new wood. It is a different shape but it works I think. When I was a kid most shops had a chair for customers to sit whilst they waited to be served. Often the chair would have an advert on it. These were known as advertising chairs. Today they are rare. So, I put an advert on this one. A bit of a play on words. I doubt such a shop existed with this name but I am aiming for a particular market with this one.

I am still waiting to hear about the psychiatric assessment I have to undergo. I am still waiting for my appointment to be arranged to have my heart scan. I have been feeling really under the weather lately. I thought the beta blockers were not helping me. In fact I thought they were contributing to my low moods so I phoned the doctor and asked if it was okay to stop taking them. He said yes, so I have stopped them. I hate tablets!

I have received an interim payment regarding childhood trauma. Not a life changing amount but it has enabled me to pay off all the debts that have been hanging over me for years. This is a wonderful feeling. No longer do I have to pay more than half my pension out every month to the bank. Of course these debts were self inflicted. I thought they would follow me to the grave. But once again my belief that 'the Lord will provide' has saved me. Perhaps I ought to start really believing in Him? It was 68 years ago when I was put into care. The whole situation seems almost unbelievable.

Here are some more pics of things I have been making and mending. I bought the chest at a car boot sale, did it up a bit and decided to paint a couple of naive pictures on it. I think it has polished up well.
The little chair is intended for a child or to display a doll on.

If you click on the pictures they will enlarge.

That's it for now. I hope you are well. Thank you for being there.

The Loneliness Of The Long Distance Memory.

I’m not wanting to sound unloved or needy. I am not looking for sympathy either but I am feeling lonely. I do have family close at hand and I do have friends who I know I can talk to at any time but my loneliness is not the kind that can be comforted away with kind words, understanding and hugs. My loneliness is inside my head. It is ungraspable. It cannot be taken hold of and shaken. It cannot be stirred until it melts away. And at this very moment in time - although I thought otherwise - it cannot be written about.

The New Old Workshop And A Psychiatric Assessment.

It's been ages hasn't it? But here I am still alive and kicking. I have been out of sorts since this heatwave began and of course me being a man I keep thinking the worst and expecting to kick the bucket at any minute. I am waiting for an appointment for a scan at the hospital. I have no idea how long that will be. I had two ECG's though and everything seems OK. So I try not to worry too much.I think what is making me feel so low apart from the heat is the ongoing saga about my childhood traumas. It does get to me all this harking back to the past. I thought my book would have seen the end of it but coincidentally the legal battles began shortly after. I phoned the survivors association recently and told them I didn't want to continue but they persuaded me to keep going for the sake of future children who might find themselves facing bad situations. So, on I go with it. The next step is seeing a psychiatrist. What difference that is going to make I have no idea. I mean, after all is said and done, I am certainly not the same person now as I was as a ten year old boy! But the other sides lawyers are insisting on it and I have had to release my medical records to them. I am feeling like a victim all over again. It is not easy but I think the beta-blocker tablets are helping to keep the anxiety at bay. It feels daft saying that but it is what it is.

On a happier note I have been busy making a new workshop for myself. It is made entirely from stuff I have had lying about the place and didn't cost me anything apart from a few nails. I am pleased with the result and have already completed a few projects. Here, -if I can find them- are some pictures for your perusal and delight. I say on a happier note but I don't want you to think I am terribly unhappy because I am not. I have my off days, but who doesn't? Nothing keeps me down for too long. I am a naturally happy person most of the time.

The weather was much cooler today and I went for a nice walk with Mia the German Shepherd. It was even nicer because my Extremely Handsome Son George came with us.

My extremely handsome son George helped me to put these heavy railway sleepers in place.

Thank you for stopping by. I am glad you are still here with me despite the long break. I will be back soon to show you some of the stuff I have been making and restoring.