Writing a book

After three years I have decided to resume writing my book. So, with a bit of luck -and inspiration- and some borrowed time, I will finish it in a couple of years from now. You’ll be the first to know.

“But the birds always drew a much more interesting pattern in the sky than the teachers’ chalk on the blackboard, the aroma of ‘outside’ was much more appealing than the stale classroom smell. In my head, ten or more things were always fighting for my undivided attention and in my hunt for that one thing that jumped up but that I never reached I fell over my steps, my shoe laces, my words, my friends and the nice things I dreamed about. And my class mates jumped on me, parents fell over me and becoming increasingly restless I gradually created a void around me and eventually I became lonelier and lonelier. And I never sat still …”

Plumstead Hall

When I was 19 years old I went to England to live there for a few years. Ever since I returned the people I lived with there have a special place in my heart and I will never forget them.

Judi Arnold, now Judi Dale, Annette Francis, now Annette Thorpe, Liz May (where are you now Liz?), Anzio Cabrini, Simon Parsons, Nick Bowman, Elliot Stevens, Ruth Wilkinson, Anne-Louise James, Darrin Fox, Stuart Ingram, Rod and Sue Townend, Gordon and Nancy managing the Social Club, Sue May, Lawrence Swerlinck (now deceased, bless his heart), Sarah Blake (Blakey), Mark Blazeby, Joe Toehill, Tim Bryant, Norman Allen, Sue Harris, Margaret Jackson (Maggie, my ‘surrogate mother’), Stephen Eyers, Jean Ringwood, Susan May (Liz’ mother) and so many others were an important part of my life. And in case if I have forgotten your name, you too.

My rooms were in the Old Hall, an old but beautiful mansion, built in red stone with a large lawn in front of it. Here is a picture of it from around 1930 when Major Ashley lived there.

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I CAN’T SIT STILL!

In 1998, a colleague said to me: “You have ADHD, you just don’t know it yet. You can’t sit still!”

He had been working with me for a while, he knew perfectly well how to work together with me and we had a good time, but he had absolutely no idea what he just did to me. From then on it gnawed on me, if I weren’t restless yet, making me think back on my childhood years did. He gave a name to what I always knew, but never learned to give it a name myself, let alone to cope with it.

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English Breakfast

English Breakfast today with friends.

Honey, when I say “I bring home the bacon.” I do mean I bring home the bacon, 1.5 pounds to be precise, three tins of Baked Beans, half a pound of Mushrooms, 18 eggs, 30 sausages and three loafs of white bread for toast. But it was just a little investment in a great friendship that hopefully will last for years and years to come. And boy, did we laugh today.

Barmy

I must have been 12 years old I think when I saw this image in the sky for a split second on my way to school and they said I was one penny short for a pound ‘up there in my piggy bank’ when I told my friends at school that day. Later in life I discovered that is was an F-117A Nighthawk when I saw a documentary on Discovery a few years ago. So there, I wasn’t barmy after all and there are no UFO’s.