i just added my blog to new cross bloggers and so thought i better write something about New Cross as most of my blogs are pure self indulgent rants but i really think these are valid in this utterly insane world in which we find ourselves.
however, i spose a vague interpretation of New Cross from behind my eyes may be appropriate.
okay where do i start?
it's pretty grimy and populated by chicken shops a plenty.
even on Christmas day there are bins overflowing with grime and uncollected bulging bin liners rat pecked at. New Cross stops for no one.
when it snows it is pretty, when it rains it is nice cos people don't like the rain.
i say that but it's not true. when it rains here there are the die hards who go out taking their dogs for a walk on the more silent streets. the odd ones, umbrellas up or none, who relish in the shiny grey and empty streets. the pattering grey rain the wilder skies.
the rain is the last nod to a wilder natural world than the grey car lined streets housing thousands who don't even know their neighbours faces.
rain likers.
when the riots happened my street was full of local looters and people walked by with i pads and massive televisions.
there was a sort of carnival atmosphere.
i myself was kind of tempted. i am desperate for an apple mac.
the enthusiasm, the smiles, the kindred spirit of the people as they ran gladly to the local store to loot was almost community, was almost kind.
there are frequent wails of police car sirens and often a helicopter brurrs above whirring round and round. we grow excited and stand outside the back door wondering who they are chasing this time.
we joke it is us.
sometimes i really think it is.
people have guns and crime is sometimes rife it seems.
on the radio it said kidz keep guns round here.
a young woman was shot,
and two beautiful men from France were slaughtered quite nearby.
but it is not all bad.
here are old and young, friendly and indifferent
all nationalities and all sorts of people.
sometimes it is a blessing to live here, sometimes it is a curse.
i long for open spaces, trees, water; smiling faces.
sometimes there are smiling faces.
kids ride round on bikes some act scary.
there is not much for the young to do.
on Sunday i walked from new cross to Greenwich.
a man on the street lurched with each footstep and walked like a monster
- i think he had tourettes -
anyway he lurched from pillar to post roaring 'for fucks sake... fucking hell' etc
and that is an abbreviated and gentle translation
but he uttered words which really expressed a human emotion of anger and hatred and damn fed up infuriation
'he s acting like i feel' i tell a fellow street walker ( i mean a man walking by not a prozzie- i know of none in new x but who knows?)
he was like the elephant man
ugly and terrifying and spilling from his mouth those things We keep silent and within.
no one in new cross batted an eyelid.
we all walked by.
a little wary but unshakable.
there are students everywhere
all excited
and dressed in patterned tights and from little places
i prejudicedly presume
this is just a place they visit before they go on to get their mortgages.
i prejudicedly presume
where they score drugs and have ripped tights and discuss university stuff
before they settle down and
disown this place and join the Tory party. (highly prejudiced)
pubs there are a few.
dusty old and new
and drugs and dealers
and on some corners people looking for both..
the library's been shut down next to iceland the shop.
thanks new government.
on my street i know a handful of people
but the community is scarce as far as i know.
when i go out in the morning to put out my rubbish i want to say hello
but more often than not the passing human will bow his head and walk on by. no good morning. no hello.
when someone smiles or says hello its like the sun comes out.
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
wishing your life away
i have got to keep reminding myself to live in the moment cos sometimes it feels like we wish the life away. okay so roughly in this moment i am sitting fag in hand red wine close by typing. talk sport is on the radio not my choice just a left over form when significant other was awake. i am in the kitchen at the table which is covered in plates from supper, daffodils in an old coffee jar, some homemade spray cleaner, some handcuffs- they are my daughters play ones, some mugs a load of other stuff in fact the kitchen is a tip but i am not planning to tidy it this eve.
my book the color purple is on the table too i am closer to the end. it is good.
whats today been like? gonna write a stream of consciousness.
blank blank blank, car, old green coat with paint stains that's mine. fag ash. this is crap.
i am uncomfortable and wearing my coat still
the radio is driving me crazy gonna change to radio 1.
i think i am feeling irritable cos radio 1 is too frantic and am gonna change it to classical and i have just taken a pause to clear all the shite away that done i still don't feel right my clothes are annoying me and now the classical music is annoying me the way it gets so quiet you can't hear it then it smashes you with annoying loudness. eeek.
my coat is off now.
has been a long day, worked two shifts , still struggling to pay bills. rob Peter pay Paul and all that.
just gotta live in the moment.
oh shit i think it is mylene class on the radio turn it off.
on chill fm now much better and have taken off annoying clothing and replaced with snuggly dressing gown. got back in after doing some work around 8pm and only now at 10 30 pm am i sitting on my backside typing furiously.
kids in bed at last and siggie asleep on sofa so peace fairly reighns.
over.
my book the color purple is on the table too i am closer to the end. it is good.
whats today been like? gonna write a stream of consciousness.
blank blank blank, car, old green coat with paint stains that's mine. fag ash. this is crap.
i am uncomfortable and wearing my coat still
the radio is driving me crazy gonna change to radio 1.
i think i am feeling irritable cos radio 1 is too frantic and am gonna change it to classical and i have just taken a pause to clear all the shite away that done i still don't feel right my clothes are annoying me and now the classical music is annoying me the way it gets so quiet you can't hear it then it smashes you with annoying loudness. eeek.
my coat is off now.
has been a long day, worked two shifts , still struggling to pay bills. rob Peter pay Paul and all that.
just gotta live in the moment.
oh shit i think it is mylene class on the radio turn it off.
on chill fm now much better and have taken off annoying clothing and replaced with snuggly dressing gown. got back in after doing some work around 8pm and only now at 10 30 pm am i sitting on my backside typing furiously.
kids in bed at last and siggie asleep on sofa so peace fairly reighns.
over.
Monday, 30 January 2012
i could have been a contender
that's kind of what I feel about this blog,
yes not as dramatic as on the waterfront but somehow today was full of strange pleasures which i so wanted to record in articulate genius that i honestly felt pulsing through my vein earlier when driving and stuff, but by now I feel like a wrecked and jaded mother again, but hey, i have finally got two kids to sleep and at last can sit down and chill.
it all started this morning as i awoke and scraped my life back together again.
my brake lights were out they've been playing up and today was the day to get on down to the garage and get it fixed.
so after taking my son to school during which we had a rather adolescent v mother row in which he relished in telling me that his dad has a picture of a cow on his phone that occurs when/ if i call ( which made me smile indeed- cows are misunderstood creatures! and i told him that children who don't do as they are told turn into looters- at least that's what the daily mail says (yes stone me i sometimes guiltily partake of reading that rag too)
anyway, after driving really shiftily without brake lights all the way to dulwich -where he goes to school-, hoping the piggie wig wigs weren't on my tail and trying to drive at an even speed so that those behind me wouldn't drive into my arse if i braked suddenly, we
made up. i remember going of to school in tears and how it destroyed my emotional makeup for the rest of the day but then i am a girl- but i like to send him off stable if possible. then off i went to drop off baby girl to school.
that done i mosied on down to my mams where my darling parents presented me with one beautiful plate of bacon eggs and tomatoes and toast and a mug of tea- first fabulous moment of the day! thanks.
so then off i go to garage where a guy of innate kindness sorts my car out and never really charges me much cos i swear he is some lovely lovely guy who also thinks really highly of my dad.
so he does the oil; water; and other important stuff and we chat and have a laugh about life. then his colleague sorts out my sunroof which has been stuck open for weeks letting in water and he sorts out the brake light switch, a job which i can only describe as one fiddly bitch of a job. when i want to pay him he says no worrys. that is too gross. i make him take some money and go buy him six guiness, his favourite.
then while i am waiting for them to finish the car i get chatting to an old guy who is also lucky enough to know my garage man and he tells me stuff about his life. so i say 'can you still feel your feet' cos its cold and he says 'no, i don't feel the cold much, i spent time in germany' i personally didn't know germany was much colder than here but i show interest anyway 'oh wow really'.
he did national service- one of the last lot to do it, at 20 and he - John- met and fell in love with Margaret. they been married 49 years and he is 80 he says rather proudly. i tell him he looks half that cos i can't work out how to say he looks about 70 at least without it sounding not that much of a compliment.
he looks happy like he already knows this. he does actually look about 70 or so but you know when you get talking to an oldie they seem so young cos they are so young they are full of stories and vitality.
anyway i spose that's it really it was just nice. i talked to another old guy about how kids need trees to climb. that old chestnut. and i just love that finding kinship in the oddest of places with people who you don't really know that well.
anyway my blogs are getting way to long and never really correlate with the title.
but hey the fact is some days bring love for humanity in strange ways.
yes not as dramatic as on the waterfront but somehow today was full of strange pleasures which i so wanted to record in articulate genius that i honestly felt pulsing through my vein earlier when driving and stuff, but by now I feel like a wrecked and jaded mother again, but hey, i have finally got two kids to sleep and at last can sit down and chill.
it all started this morning as i awoke and scraped my life back together again.
my brake lights were out they've been playing up and today was the day to get on down to the garage and get it fixed.
so after taking my son to school during which we had a rather adolescent v mother row in which he relished in telling me that his dad has a picture of a cow on his phone that occurs when/ if i call ( which made me smile indeed- cows are misunderstood creatures! and i told him that children who don't do as they are told turn into looters- at least that's what the daily mail says (yes stone me i sometimes guiltily partake of reading that rag too)
anyway, after driving really shiftily without brake lights all the way to dulwich -where he goes to school-, hoping the piggie wig wigs weren't on my tail and trying to drive at an even speed so that those behind me wouldn't drive into my arse if i braked suddenly, we
made up. i remember going of to school in tears and how it destroyed my emotional makeup for the rest of the day but then i am a girl- but i like to send him off stable if possible. then off i went to drop off baby girl to school.
that done i mosied on down to my mams where my darling parents presented me with one beautiful plate of bacon eggs and tomatoes and toast and a mug of tea- first fabulous moment of the day! thanks.
so then off i go to garage where a guy of innate kindness sorts my car out and never really charges me much cos i swear he is some lovely lovely guy who also thinks really highly of my dad.
so he does the oil; water; and other important stuff and we chat and have a laugh about life. then his colleague sorts out my sunroof which has been stuck open for weeks letting in water and he sorts out the brake light switch, a job which i can only describe as one fiddly bitch of a job. when i want to pay him he says no worrys. that is too gross. i make him take some money and go buy him six guiness, his favourite.
then while i am waiting for them to finish the car i get chatting to an old guy who is also lucky enough to know my garage man and he tells me stuff about his life. so i say 'can you still feel your feet' cos its cold and he says 'no, i don't feel the cold much, i spent time in germany' i personally didn't know germany was much colder than here but i show interest anyway 'oh wow really'.
he did national service- one of the last lot to do it, at 20 and he - John- met and fell in love with Margaret. they been married 49 years and he is 80 he says rather proudly. i tell him he looks half that cos i can't work out how to say he looks about 70 at least without it sounding not that much of a compliment.
he looks happy like he already knows this. he does actually look about 70 or so but you know when you get talking to an oldie they seem so young cos they are so young they are full of stories and vitality.
anyway i spose that's it really it was just nice. i talked to another old guy about how kids need trees to climb. that old chestnut. and i just love that finding kinship in the oddest of places with people who you don't really know that well.
anyway my blogs are getting way to long and never really correlate with the title.
but hey the fact is some days bring love for humanity in strange ways.
Sunday, 29 January 2012
gonna go to bed now
another Sunday has passed and it is time for me to go to bed. i really have nothing more to say. i went to visit nana but we walked through new cross and deptford which was enlightening. the brake lights on my car were broke. gotta fix them tomorrow.
the sofa or not the sofa that is the question
Sunday is a good day for lying on the sofa. i have to say i don't do this much because i guess there are just other things to do but today i did lie on the sofa for a bit and it was nice plus i read some pages out of yesterdays newspaper supplements. i brought the guardian yesterday because it had some pamphlet on how to make the most of your time. i don't know if i will read it, but i am half way there and the guardian are £2 10 richer cause i got sucked in by one of their self help booklets.
actually i don't much mind the guardian though it is sometimes boring and then i reach for a tabloid or the much taboo daily mail which i will not go on to insult because everyone else already has.
i was pondering , after having enjoyed twenty winks and some gentle reading, about what's best to be doing on a Sunday. i mean so far i have experienced some depressing thoughts; done a load of house work; had a row with significant other; made lunch; more housework and de-nitted/ egged/ general de'd my daughters head for the umteenth time. then thoroughly exhausted, i lay boots and all, on the sofa as my eyelids forced themselves down. sleep didn't come but a sickish wave of tiredness did.
now its 3pm and still i have not galvanised my self to get up off our collective arses and do something 'productive' or at least something fun. my joy de vivre is very low.
in a way my nearly fourteen year old not being here makes it easier to be lazy. little girl nearly five is actually quite good at entertaining herself and has already today made a new home where she lives and been to America in a boat and visited Disney land and watched copious cartoons.the
baby has done what baby's do and in a way the pressure is off.
my son is with his dad at some friends house and that's cool i need to find more stuff for him to do.
its gross the way kids get a bit older and suddenly see life through the dull and jaded ground-hog glasses of their dull and jaded parents (and/ or step parents).
they want to do stuff all the time; life is supposed to be a big sloppy oyster of activity and possibility. i am crap at maintaining that sense of oyster and am terrified i will make my children join me on the cliff edge looking out to that bleak abyss.
like the road by the guy that wrote no country for old men. at least in the road there was challenge and daily struggle for survival not just school; teachers; empty promises that hard work = success and the general misery of school then home where everyone is so depressed and skint that you'd rather be back at school.
i mean does anyone ever like school? its a travesty.
i reckon that when kids get to about 14 there should be stuff for them to do like weekend apprenticeships or 1 day a week work placements or just stuff that can invigorate and harness the positive energy and enthusiasm of youth.
any way i am off the sofa now and gonna go take my kids to see their nana as we now prefer to call her casuse grand ma sounds too austere.
so lets hope son will do his home work later and all will end well and i don't resort to blanking out the mundanity by finding five quid for a mind numbing bottle of vino.
actually i don't much mind the guardian though it is sometimes boring and then i reach for a tabloid or the much taboo daily mail which i will not go on to insult because everyone else already has.
i was pondering , after having enjoyed twenty winks and some gentle reading, about what's best to be doing on a Sunday. i mean so far i have experienced some depressing thoughts; done a load of house work; had a row with significant other; made lunch; more housework and de-nitted/ egged/ general de'd my daughters head for the umteenth time. then thoroughly exhausted, i lay boots and all, on the sofa as my eyelids forced themselves down. sleep didn't come but a sickish wave of tiredness did.
now its 3pm and still i have not galvanised my self to get up off our collective arses and do something 'productive' or at least something fun. my joy de vivre is very low.
in a way my nearly fourteen year old not being here makes it easier to be lazy. little girl nearly five is actually quite good at entertaining herself and has already today made a new home where she lives and been to America in a boat and visited Disney land and watched copious cartoons.the
baby has done what baby's do and in a way the pressure is off.
my son is with his dad at some friends house and that's cool i need to find more stuff for him to do.
its gross the way kids get a bit older and suddenly see life through the dull and jaded ground-hog glasses of their dull and jaded parents (and/ or step parents).
they want to do stuff all the time; life is supposed to be a big sloppy oyster of activity and possibility. i am crap at maintaining that sense of oyster and am terrified i will make my children join me on the cliff edge looking out to that bleak abyss.
like the road by the guy that wrote no country for old men. at least in the road there was challenge and daily struggle for survival not just school; teachers; empty promises that hard work = success and the general misery of school then home where everyone is so depressed and skint that you'd rather be back at school.
i mean does anyone ever like school? its a travesty.
i reckon that when kids get to about 14 there should be stuff for them to do like weekend apprenticeships or 1 day a week work placements or just stuff that can invigorate and harness the positive energy and enthusiasm of youth.
any way i am off the sofa now and gonna go take my kids to see their nana as we now prefer to call her casuse grand ma sounds too austere.
so lets hope son will do his home work later and all will end well and i don't resort to blanking out the mundanity by finding five quid for a mind numbing bottle of vino.
my house- big brother
i do not have big cameras watching my every move although the government pretty much control my life, but what i actually mean is my house this morning is like an eventful episode of Big Brother (as in the channel 5 interpretation of this concept which i actually watched and found pretty interesting)and i have, this morning,done a fabulous impression of both Denise and Nicola- the latter of whom i found myself finding annoying. however this morning i have done a good job of becoming them both. and in this mix my significant other has become Michael whotsit from reservoir dogs (i was pretty young but i never did find out the correlation between the title and action of that film although all i can actually remember is the famous song and ear cutting episode- i will try to find out why its called that later).
though i quite liked Michael cos he just looked and acted cool and had such innate confidence it was difficult to dislike him, it was through his thing with Denise as portrayed perhaps by editors, not sure, that kind of showed that flaw in humans i find particularly miserable. the inability to be kind. period.
now my siggie is not really like that but he just drives me insane sometimes and makes me mad and say words i cannot stand like audacity- it has its place. and then we have a big shouting match in front of the kids- thus reinforcing my shit self image as a parent- and making me once again hanker after another more gentle life, where hands are all gentle and voices low and calm and there is no sense of threat around the corner no real possibility of exploding tempers or repressed passions volcaning from their surface and stuff
i just hate when i have been like Celie in color purple- cleaning up; holding crying baby; preapting weeks clothes; cleaning out fridge; feeding and attending to baby and kid and crawling round wiping kitchen floor and hoovering other peoples debris etc etc etc etc etc etc etc hoovering; placating crying baby on hip etc etc etc etc etc etc my siggie comes down from upstairs having had a long hot bath. ps last bath i had included baby and was therefore luke warm and shallow, he then suddenly roars STOP PUTTING THE F ING CAT BOWL ON THE TABLE NO WONDER WE GOT WORMS (we havent) nits (okay the kids have picked up damn nits at school i am on a daily mission to destroy any last one and all its paraphenailis with conditioner and combs and fingers over and over cos my annoying doctor wouldn't prescribe strong 'perticisdes' as she called them but that's another story)
and i am like there(becoming american again) thinking even louder than he shouted fuck off because i have just been crawling round in f ing confined spaces witha baby on heel and child sweetly playing some crazy imaginative game near by, and i have picked up yogort tops and wiped grime and hoovered ash and tobacco bits and shite from the floor and the baby just goes to put his hand in the bowl of nasty, repulsive, dodgy, awful, my-poor-cats cat food - my daughter stops her pirate/ make believe game to say MUM HE'S GONNA PUT HIS HAND IN THE CAT FOOD then i whip it up and pop it on higher surface- the computer table siggie likes to sit at- i have just wiped it (as i only do) with some strong toxic cleaning spray as vinegar just doesn't do the trick (i have tried) and i place it there and continue clearing until its relatively clean and kids can play on floor without catchimng disease.
then i move on to next job- leaving cat shitty food out of reach and blah blah blah. then 10 minutes later He emerges from bath and then i, who is at last sitting down holding baby and sipping luke warm tea, hear this monstrosity of a bloody shout and my blood near boils (cripes i think Celie from colour purple is possessing me)
so hey heres to Shug Avery .
i am just glad my son is not here he is sick of us arguing.
though i quite liked Michael cos he just looked and acted cool and had such innate confidence it was difficult to dislike him, it was through his thing with Denise as portrayed perhaps by editors, not sure, that kind of showed that flaw in humans i find particularly miserable. the inability to be kind. period.
now my siggie is not really like that but he just drives me insane sometimes and makes me mad and say words i cannot stand like audacity- it has its place. and then we have a big shouting match in front of the kids- thus reinforcing my shit self image as a parent- and making me once again hanker after another more gentle life, where hands are all gentle and voices low and calm and there is no sense of threat around the corner no real possibility of exploding tempers or repressed passions volcaning from their surface and stuff
i just hate when i have been like Celie in color purple- cleaning up; holding crying baby; preapting weeks clothes; cleaning out fridge; feeding and attending to baby and kid and crawling round wiping kitchen floor and hoovering other peoples debris etc etc etc etc etc etc etc hoovering; placating crying baby on hip etc etc etc etc etc etc my siggie comes down from upstairs having had a long hot bath. ps last bath i had included baby and was therefore luke warm and shallow, he then suddenly roars STOP PUTTING THE F ING CAT BOWL ON THE TABLE NO WONDER WE GOT WORMS (we havent) nits (okay the kids have picked up damn nits at school i am on a daily mission to destroy any last one and all its paraphenailis with conditioner and combs and fingers over and over cos my annoying doctor wouldn't prescribe strong 'perticisdes' as she called them but that's another story)
and i am like there(becoming american again) thinking even louder than he shouted fuck off because i have just been crawling round in f ing confined spaces witha baby on heel and child sweetly playing some crazy imaginative game near by, and i have picked up yogort tops and wiped grime and hoovered ash and tobacco bits and shite from the floor and the baby just goes to put his hand in the bowl of nasty, repulsive, dodgy, awful, my-poor-cats cat food - my daughter stops her pirate/ make believe game to say MUM HE'S GONNA PUT HIS HAND IN THE CAT FOOD then i whip it up and pop it on higher surface- the computer table siggie likes to sit at- i have just wiped it (as i only do) with some strong toxic cleaning spray as vinegar just doesn't do the trick (i have tried) and i place it there and continue clearing until its relatively clean and kids can play on floor without catchimng disease.
then i move on to next job- leaving cat shitty food out of reach and blah blah blah. then 10 minutes later He emerges from bath and then i, who is at last sitting down holding baby and sipping luke warm tea, hear this monstrosity of a bloody shout and my blood near boils (cripes i think Celie from colour purple is possessing me)
so hey heres to Shug Avery .
i am just glad my son is not here he is sick of us arguing.
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