Tin foil. What can it mean?

My neighbour next-door-but-one is a bit of a recluse. She sleeps all day and surfs the net all night. She has taken various trips abroad to the US to meet people in person that she has chatted to on the net. Last time, she ended up in Las Vegas and in hospital. She was held captive by some nut for a day and beaten up really badly. She didn't press charges. She came back looking awful. Next, she went around the Caribbean for another eight months crewing on a small ship. How do I know this? Because my nosey neighbours nextdoor told me.

She has got dyed blonde hair and a cat which she loves likes a person. I know that she has a really sad family background and was in care for most of her teens. I used to always stop and chat but I've noticed that she really hides away now. The only person that seems to visit is her brother. Lately, she has covered all her windows from the inside with kitchen foil. A bit weird if you ask me. We were talking about it the other night. My other half reckons it is because she sleeps all day and has done it to block out the light. My theory was that she was growing weed. No one seems to know. I bumped into her really briefly the other day and forgot to ask!! Odd.

confession

ladybirds
Originally uploaded by rockmother.

I collect Ladybird books. This is just a small selection. I suppose it's better than spotting trains or Eddie Stobart trucks on the motorway. Here's a good Ladybird site. Ladybirds rock!

What a shambles, baby....

Still reeling from the worst documentary probably ever aired on tv. I was hoping that Max Carlish wasn't going to be given the opportunity to exorcise his maniacal inner demons on tv again but I hear that he has been commissioned by BBC 3 as part of the Fresh strand to make a documentary about his penis, foreskin - lack of because he is Jewish and circumcised. A bit like Pete D smoking heroin in front of everybody - so what?! The more shocking factor was that we had to watch Carlish's mental illness paraded and lampooned for all to see. I think the best venue for his Docherty film would be a lecture theatre. It would be more useful being shown to Psychology students as an insight into the ups and downs of bi-polar disorder and other associated syndromes. There ends my rant!

one step forward, two steps backward

Well, the trip to Morecambe is cancelled. I had an inkling that was going to happen. Apparently Jimmy is in a bit of a spin about last week's events in Brighton plus they have decided that no one is to film Sham 69 until further notice. What with Punk being officially thirty years old next year - around 20 Sept to be exact - there is a lot of media interest in talking to and tracking down 'the originators' of punk. I'm not surprised. What I am worried about is that I gaily sent off my programme proposal to at least three broadcasters a while back. Normally, they get back fairly quickly - when they don't you have to worry - there's a lot of pinching ideas in tv land and there is absolutely nothing or very little you can do about it. Jimmy and management were also worried about who else I was planning to interview. Thankfully, they didn't object to my current list which was a relief. I'm going to carry on regardless of what other people might be doing and try and get my doc made if I can.

What else? All this seems to have been over-shadowed by the fact that I am struggling a bit with realising Abbie's death has finally hit home - and it has come from nowhere. Awful. I didn't know what grief or bereavement can do to you and they have a funny habit of popping up when you are least expecting them to. At it's worst I've been snappy and intolerant of people either not listening to me properly or being too loud. And I have been so incredibly tired. I haven't been this tired since I was a teenager. And at it's best, I've been able to listen to an answer machine message from Abbie on my machine (which I know I probably should erase but can't for the moment) and last week I found the last letter she ever wrote to me. I could listen to the message and read the letter without my eyes uncontrollably brimming up and the feeling of a horrible tightness in my chest. Both the brimming up and tightness in my chest only seem to appear when I'm doing something mundane like driving or walking along a street. Crazy.

My dreams have been really un-nerving too. For a few days last week I kept having a recurring dream of Abbie standing about 10 foot away from me with her arms out-stretched, smiling - as a mother does when beckoning a child to run into her arms. This image stayed with me on and off in the day, like a flashback and I felt quite haunted by it. I then developed a sudden bout of anxiety. I nearly drove all the way across London last week when it was halving the journey time to go by train. Each time I thought about the train journey I kept thinking something bad was going to happen. Silly, obsessive worrying. I even had a panic as I dropped my son off at nursery thinking albeit irrationally that it was the last time I was going to see him and he would never know and when no one picked him up at the end of the day blah blah blah. It took every ounce of human effort to force my self to stop thinking such ridiculous thoughts and get on the bloody train which was fine. And yes I got back in time to pick up my son and life carries on.....I guess that is the point - life carries on! I think the whole dilemma, issue of acceptance and 'moving on' must throw your head out a bit. All this weirdness - as I can assure you I really am not mad although last week I was very worried that I was (!) must be to do with being at that stage just before acceptance. A combination of hanging on and things finally bubbling up to the surface. I guess it just takes time.

for all you sham fans out there

jimmy
Originally uploaded by rockmother.

Here is an extremely old picture of Jimmy Pursey - the Scarlet Pimpernel of Punk (he describes himself as that not me!) for all you die hard Sham fans. Update on my doc. Well, he decided to retrieve his paintings from the Hed Gallery Brighton last Friday AT the private view. Nice touch.

Apparently the curator had not thought to include all of them so Jimmy decided to put a stop to it Pursey style and with a great flourish no doubt. Paintings and Pursey were both seen at the pub next door for the rest of the evening. I spoke to him tonight and he said he will re-enact it for me next week...when we go to shoot him headlining at The Dome Morecambe next Friday as part of Holidays In The Sun Wasted Festival. We are filming on the road with Sham 69. We are probably going to camp just for the hell of it. Hopefully we will be up-wind of the river of punk cider-puke which no doubt will be flowing freely come Saturday morning.

My partner being mainly a jazz and funk enthusiast thinks I am having a mid-life crisis but is getting used to the music that I have been playing alot and quite loudly lately. Mainly a selection of Sham, The Slits, Poison Girls, UK Subs, The Adverts, Subway Sect, Black Flag, Johnny Thunders, The Buzzcocks,The Ramones, The Damned, The Clash, The Sex Pistols - oh, and John Cooper Clark who warrants a documentary all to himself. I'm working on it.

looking through a leaf

light through big leaf
Originally uploaded by rockmother.

Went to Kew Gardens at the weekend and spent most of my time standing under big bright leaves and taking photo's of them. This one is a bit 'Oxford Scientific Library' but I like it. It was a lovely thick waxy leaf. I think I was lucky with the light and I did underexpose slightly to bring out the contrast. I'm going to do more.