April 12th 2019


This morning was glorious, the sun was out and for the first time on the walk I wore sunglasses, to the calls of “God you look so cool” and ” I wish I could be like you, you look amazing”. That was just from my kids, the local fashionistas, of which Shrawley is particularly famous for, were beside them selves with unbridled joy. If indeed you are hankering for a photo of me in my shades, then there is one way back, i’m wearing a breathing mask. Theres no index though for all you millions of new bees and so you’ll have to look through every page, it’ll give my statistics a kick up the arse, and hey maybe in the future you could write a dissertation on the Ministry and then stalk me.

Today I saw in to the life of a cult leader, all be it briefly. My neighbour, very religious, is fucking loaded, I thought religious types were meant to be pious and humble. This one drives a Porsche 4 wheel drive thing, massive and full of gadgets with bright red leather seats, thats where being a cult Leader gets you, which is why I am aiming to progress mine slightly further out from Shrawley into Astley parish. Lock up your wives, the minister is coming.

It’s all just a joke and in no way am I running a cult by the way.

Or am I?


Having returned recently from Berlin, the division between East and West remains all be it just as a reminder with scattered bits of wall here and there, a poignant reminder of terrible times past. This week when I returned we have a fence dividing the woods from the field, preventing wood and field from mixing. Whilst the field is fed artificial fertilisers aplenty, the woods have to fend for them selves and grab what they can, the crumbs of western opulence, just like Berlin. Here in the Eastern wooded side wild animals roam, maiming and killing to survive. The birds do have the freedom to escape but feel compelled to stick to the trees, whilst on the ground the shrews perish.


In no way am I comparing post war Berlin to the fence between field and wood in Shrawley, but its a hell of a coincidence isn’t it?

An odd thing happened on the walk today; we were just turning off down the “it doesn’t matter” path when we saw a couple with a Springer Spaniel, they were far enough away for me to hear their voice but not really what they were saying. Benny went to see this Spaniel only to say hello and the lady gesticulated and seemed to be shouting “Wanker”. This is confusing as I really don’t think there was anything to get so cross about on the walk this morning, Benny, the dog, only went to say Hi for 20 seconds max, and didn’t jump up or even go to see the lady, in fact the more I think about it the less I think being called  a wanker was a suitable curse for this time of the morning. No, I think I may have misheard, however we know where this lady lives and the bar manager in the pub knows her so he’s going to text her to ask her what all this was about.

WE also bumped into a runner, not in tracksuit, but in jeans and a jumper, who shouted at us to call our dogs to heel. Honestly, this is not the time for strangers to be coming into the woods, change is not a good thing at 8:30m in the morning. So for all those millions of followers of mine, butt out of the woods at this time unless you can take the heat. If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the woody kitchen.

Right thats me, Ive been driving all over the cotswolds this week and its tired me out, too many damn tourists, even at this time of year.

This should cheer you up…

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