The Unexpected Reunion.

It has been a while. One day short of four months to be precise since I last posted on here. How are you? Are you doing OK? I hope so. I am all right myself. Can’t complain.
Since I decided not to have heart trouble anymore, I really think I feel better. Hope that’s not tempting fate. I also decline invitations from the doctor when she wants to talk about it. Maybe I am wrong, but I just don’t want to be spending the latter part of my life worrying about these things and taking loads of pills every day. The only medicines I need are walks with Mia the German Shepherd, painting, drawing, writing and lately, riding my motorcycle. I ride almost every day come rain or shine and the feeling I get from it is magical. My beautiful daughter Jodie says riding the motorbike raises my serotonin levels and gives me a feeling of well-being. She has studied these things.

I have been keeping busy these past few months. Been building an art studio. Something I have always wanted. With plenty of windows facing North for the best light. - not convinced about the North light thing but I have heard it said and well, it can’t do any harm. I took a bit of time off from the studio build to build the Harley Davidson its own little garage. Wouldn’t want her getting cold. But now back on the studio build again. Not rushing it because there is plenty to do besides. I think keeping busy and interested is important as one gets older.

EHS George sets off to climb Mither Tap, Bennachie.

My extremely handsome son George and I went for a short holiday to Scotland. I wanted to show him some of my childhood haunts and some of the places where many of the things I have written about on here happened. We had a great time. The best thing was a totally unplanned reunion with some of my old schoolfriends.  This came about when I was telling the hotel owner that I had spent some of my childhood in the village and went to the local school. This was overheard by someone and he said, “You might have known my dad, he went to the local school?” It turns out I did remember his dad and then after a few phone calls a reunion was arranged. Six old school friends turned up to it and wow what a great time we had reminiscing. Hours of laughing and joking and remembering. Almost sixty years since we last saw each other. Absolutely made the holiday. We talked about doing it all again next year when maybe more will be able to come. Thanks to Davy Wilson for arranging things so quickly. Here is a short video of us reminiscing in the local dialect The Doric. Sorry about the swearing but I don't expect you to understand what is being said anyway.

That is Stephen standing behind us. He set the ball rolling after a chance meeting.

My classmates. Me and Gavin are not in it. We went fishing that day.

Me with Davy who made all the arrangements. It was Davy's son Stephen who set the ball rolling after a chance meeting.

The sun is out. My Harley Davidson awaits.

I wish you all a happy and peaceful Christmas and a happy New Year.

John.

The Harley Davidson Motorbike.

The last few years have been a bit of a nightmare. To think it was less than three years ago I couldn’t walk more than a hundred yards without having to stop and rest. I thought my days were numbered for sure. My son-in-law bought me a mobility scooter I was that bad. I had suspected the cholesterol busting statins I was taking were the main cause of my problems. I stopped taking them and within a few weeks I was feeling a lot better. I recently decided to stop focusing on my health problems and just live my life as care-free as possible. PMA. Positive Mental Attitude. It seems to be doing the trick.
Last week I reached 72 years of age. Yeah, I know, those of you who have seen my photo find it hard to believe I’m that old. One of the ladies in the local shop couldn’t believe it when I told her. She was shocked.
“No way!” she exclaimed, adding, “You certainly don’t look it.” Which was very nice of her and I must admit I did feel flattered by her words. And too be honest I don’t feel 72. Not sure how old I do feel but it is younger than 72.
I told her, that for my Birthday present to myself I had bought a Harley Davidson motorbike.
“WHAT? She shouted out in a shocked voice, “A Harley? At your age? Are you having a mid-life crisis?”
“Well,” I said, “If it’s a mid-life crisis that’s fine by me because it would mean I am only 36 years old.”
So yeah, that’s it. That’s how old I feel, 36. I am in my prime of life.
Yeah, so I have bought myself a Harley Davidson. I have always wanted one and I thought if you don’t do it now John Boy you might never do it. Being 72 does mean that I have gained some wisdom. So, on Monday I am going to be starting a back to biking course and hopefully refresh the skills I had when I last rode a motorbike more than twenty years ago. I suspect some people think I am mental. They could be right. I do sometimes wonder that myself. But one of the joys of being 72 is that one doesn’t care what people think.
What I do know is, I am not going to be spending the rest of my days sitting on a bench in the park, wearing a beige coloured coat, and throwing bits of stale bread to the ducks!
No! I am going to be riding my Harley Davidson and admiring my reflection in shop windows as a glide by.

Maybe I will add a sidecar for Mia the German Shepherd.

Bain Antiques.

Its been a while so I think it is time for an update. Sorry to have kept you waiting.

Life goes on much the same. Which is nice.

I am currently making myself (at long last) a painting studio. It has long been an ambition to have such a place. It is a space big enough to do some giant paintings if I want to without worrying that I wont be able to move around. As happens at the moment when I paint in the Showman wagon. I will share some photos when it is finished. I am working slowly due to some health issues. Incidentally, I have decided I will not talk about or discuss my health anymore after this. Too depressing. It is what it is and to be honest I don't actually feel too bad at all. Just get on with it. No sense worrying. I feel happy that's the main thing. 'Enuff said!
I can't remember if I told you this already but my extremely handsome son George has opened an antique shop. He seems to be doing well. He has always enjoyed a bit of wheeling and dealing. Seems to have a flair for it. I don't know where he gets it from. I painted the signs for his shopfront. I took some pics. I shall try to find them.

Mia the German Shepherd and Bonnie the Ginger Cat are well. They are getting on well together at last. It took Bonnie some time to decide she was going to get along with Mia.

Thanks for stopping by. See you again soon

Surviving. Coming Up To Seventy Two Years.

How strange it was that my deciding to write a book about my unhappy childhood should coincide with the setting up of an association - Shirley Oaks Survivors Association - to expose the wrong doings of those who were tasked with the duty of care towards us kids.

As I wrote my book I was never sure why I was writing it. I certainly did not intend to name names even though those concerned had passed on. Indeed, I used pseudonyms. Not to protect the wrongdoers but I was thinking of the still surviving relatives. I thought I might simply be writing it for my own children. I thought maybe I wanted things on record so things could be more open in the future. I thought if I wrote it down it would be gone. Out of my system. I thought lots of things but eventually I decided I was writing it for myself. I was writing it because I am a writer. A storyteller. I like to write.

Seven years since I wrote the book. Seven Years! Can you believe it? Seven years and it has been almost constantly on my mind all that time. So much for putting it all behind me. It has been the compensation battles that have kept it there of course. The more it went on, the more determined us survivors became. Togetherness helped. I doubt we'd have got anywhere without it. But we are getting there now. Things are getting sorted. Each of us have legal representation.

To be honest I nearly gave up a few times. The situation made me ill. I couldn't be bothered. But I was always only a phone call away from support. I was persuaded to battle on. Not just for me but for everyone. The battle is not just about what went before. It is about the future. About the kids who are to come. It is for them.

I was made an offer. I was ready to accept just so the saga would end. But the survivors association had found low offers were being made in the hope that those in financial need would rush to take it. It was a ploy. I was persuaded not to accept and another offer came.

My fight is almost won. I have taken the money. It hasn't made me a millionaire but I now have something I have never had before in my life, financial security. It feels good and perhaps it is as well it has come at this time of my days, Had it come when I was younger and irresponsible I am sure I would have blown the lot.

I am firmly of the opinion that had my childhood been different I would not have gone off the rails as badly as I did. Certainly no inferiority complex. No fights. No imprisonment. I would have continued with my schooling. My relationships would have survived. I would not have this restlessness within me. I could have done better things with my life.

Now, here I am seventy odd years since it all started and what do I have? Well, I have this feeling that I am lucky. Things could have been massively worse. I am indeed a survivor.

At Least I Got Me 'ealth

Me back don’t ‘alf ‘urt. Don’t even know ‘ow I ‘urt it. Was sitting down watching telly. Some crap or other. Got up from the chair or tried to at least and wallop me backs locked. Managed to straighten up slowly. Excruciating! You’re s’posed to keep moving to try and ease it. Well, that might be all right but what if you can’t keep moving?  What if you are getting on a bit and are subject to limitations? What then? I can move all right but me legs ain’t what they was. What with the circulation problems and the pain in me calves an all. Know what I mean? Not to mention me big toe pain on me right foot what comes on sudden when I ain’t expecting it and there’s that weird intermittent knee snap to contend with. So, yeah, I tried keeping moving best I could but I can only go slowly on account of me ‘eart playing up. It takes me a good ‘our an an ‘alf to walk what used to take ‘alf an ‘our by which time I’m knackered. Then I has to rest and you can’t rest proper standing up can you? I can’t anyway so I have to sit down and then I can’t get up again for ages. But I ain’t one to complain. I mean have you ‘eard me complain about me fading eyesight? No you ‘avent ‘cos I wouldn’t inflict that on anyone. Have you ‘eard me complain about the arthritis in me ‘ands? No, course you ain’t. Me going deaf? Do I go on about it? No, I don’t. Cos I ain’t a moaner. I better stop writing now. I been sitting here long enough and it’s going to be murder getting up again. I shall go to bed. Probably won’t sleep much and if I do, I shall wake up a couple of times in the night needing a wee and getting up from lying down is a nightmare what with me back and all. Still, I mustn’t complain. At least I got me ‘ealth!

Why and Why Not?

Its been quite some time since I last looked in. Truth is.. I just haven't been in blogging mood. Still not as I am being honest.
How long does a blog go on? Well, I suppose as long as one has the will to keep doing it, and I haven't lately. Or, is it until I pop my clogs?
I don't tend to get out and about much these days so I am not meeting new people or being inspired by new events like I used to.
I don't know why I have stopped going out and about. Except to say I get worried about it. I may have good intentions of going to let's say an open mic night at the pub but then as the day draws on and the time approaches to go I begin to make excuses to myself as to why I can't go. Eventually having tidied myself up and got my decent clothes on I don't go. Madness isn't it? Especially when you consider that I know I will enjoy myself if I do get there. In my usual long-winded way this is me explaining why my blog gets neglected. What have I got to say that you might want to hear? That's the problem at the moment.
I haven't painted for a couple of weeks either. Same thing. Can't be bothered. This is the last one I did before Christmas. It sold straightaway. Always nice when that happens. I have had a request for another donkey painting too.

I have been playing my guitar a lot. A helluva lot. I am trying to learn finger-picking the way the old country blues guitarists used to play. My seventy year old fingers are getting nicely calloused. I have taken up this finger-picking to challenge my brain to learn a new skill. I thought at one time I was probably too old to learn new stuff. Then I read somewhere that the human brain can keep learning and growing new cells until well into the nineties!
Mia the German Shepherd cut a pad on her foot nearly two weeks ago now. It was a bad cut. Needed twelve stitches. Been to the vet several times since but it is taking its time healing. Tomorrow (Saturday) I am hopeful it will have healed and we can get back to our walks.

Mia at the vets.

Mia having her bandage applied. She was very well behaved.

Mia back  at home.

My new 'old' guitar.

I tried to stop my fingertips hurting with some of Beautiful Daughter Jodie's nail varnish.

Bonnie the Ginger Cat.

I have made myself another guitar. I made it out of bits and pieces of broken guitars. What I wanted to achieve was a vintage look and feel. That old look was obtained by a paint effect. The inserts in the neck are mother-of-pearl given to me by my extremely handsome son George. I am pleased with the result and it sounds pretty good too.

Anyway, there it is at last. A new blogpost. Maybe the first of many. Are you still there?