Diary: August 23

Continued 3/3.

5th

I had a troublesome night, the room, although clean and equipt, was compact. Scent from the washing powder saturated my senses from upon the pillow put me at unease; whilst I felt something, maybe a spider crawling on me. Charlie overheard me saying "ssh they're tapping on the gate" during my sleep, he described it as a scene from Marie Antoinette; unnerving considering who my family were in France before the "Revolution".

We dressed and seated ourselves downstairs from breakfast. A family had moaned that we had taken their seat before being escorted to other seats. The family opposite talked about being "Christian" etc… Which I thought an orchestrated conversation performed as a public facade. How I have grown so weary, discontented, maybe even so far as to say critical of the public. Signing out and leaving, I took a picture of a church, so close to our hotel I thought, the spirit of those buried within the churchyard, disembodied from afterlife, turning in graves.

We drove toward a nearby lake named Loweswater.

We drove several miles enjoying the beautiful views.

Before we decided to follow sign posts and drive towards Workington.

And discovered a puzzled aposolate member hanging suspiciously, haunting his logos cult hauntology outside a public toilet. I believe this [Mithras] logo to be a "turn bull" trigger aimed at subordinating descendants of Robert deBruis unto the zombifying apostolate of Martin dePorress. Questions remain about the rational behind all of the other countless apparel insignia logos.

Shortly after his appearance, two other people came, one wearing "Chicago" teeshirt, whilst her partner sported his team colours of black white [often signified with a swoosh] and red colours. Abstraction creating defusion seems to be a common occurance with this alpha movement.

After visiting a few second hand shops, we left Workington, arriving in the next town, Charlie parked for free at Tesco's supermarket car park in Whitehaven; and walked into this awesome shoul of fish monument. There were also knots, remembering Oxford's Christ Church college, I pondered, over this, a collection of "have nots".

I remembered the town, from being psychologically disturbed by circus antics along the length of the town's high street; however, this time I walked to the town's harbour unabated. Eric Blair, you may know him as George Orwell, wrote only a psychotic would be immune to them; I'm disturbed by triggered recall (a common symptom of cPTSD), but certainly not psychotic. Why do so many harbours have a ghostly harbour master's house?

Recently my fingers have been in the way of the camera lense.

One modern speed boat in this grey, cold harbour, heavily over hung by drenched moody sky.

I took a panoramic picture of the harbour upon a rotunda viewing platform.

A wave cutting lifeboat, I don't like these colours, Third worldism imports spite driven opportunist migrants that gang rape our children as concubines. After all, deprive us soulless of every prosperity our ancestors suffered for us to inherit. Irony, that retuning to our car we found ourselves to be outsized by a larger, grey Land Rover, displaying a lifeboat sticker.

Along Whitehaven high street we briefly visited a gin museum, because I desperately needed the toilet; as for the history of gin, and the grotesque melting pot history of the West Indies, I couldn't care less. We donated money, for the use of the facilities, into the honesty box. I used to value every eventuality although now, in part, I utterly despise it.

But Washington did not import migrants whom have been suplied aspriations to dispossess us of our souls within our ancestral homeland, that was done illegally [without the consent of the British people] via a AshkeNazi cruise liner named SS Windrush in the 1950s. It was the American forefathers who sought to abolish slavery, remembering America was created as a land of opportunity, exclusively for white Europeans.

“Did you know the British taxpayer worked for over one and a half centuries [1833 - 2015!] to free every slave contained within the British Empire. The Abolition of Slavery Act came into effect from a loan of £15 million [£1.5 billion in present day], in the form of a national net secured from the finances of the Nathan Mayer Rothschild [other than the Arab slave traders, Jews were the most prolific slave traders]. And yet, generations later these parasites are demanding millions each, in the form of "repatriations", again taxed from the labour of our suppressed and terrorised people.”.

Slaves (whose darkness terrified our ancestors) in the West Indies were to be repatriated back into Africa. There has also never been mass migration into Europe other than a horde invasion of mullato moors, although their has been a history of migration of our ethnicity within Europe.

After forty minutes drive between Braystones we arrived at Seascale via Gosforth, parked our car and proceeded to follow the coastal path Northwards. At Braystones we asked a man where to find the stone circle, he replied that he'd lived in the area all his life and not heard a mention of it, but I was certain they were here abouts, somewhere close.

I wanted to park the car closer, but Charlie thought a brisk walk would be healthy; he so wanted to visit the sea; metaphorically I often relate to my suffering from emotional Borderline Personality Disorder; inflicted during my disociate adolescent years, by my signle parent mother's symptoms of schizophrenia.

But through this sparseness of life and isolated, dreary solemness, there is a guiding light. And I adore these roses, the scent is so calming, maybe even lifting; yet this soothing moment, roused from despondent depersonalisation, could be yet, just another triggered recall.

Over an aging railway bridge, Sellafield , seen in the distance, does have a railway station.

Charlie was too precautious when navigating our way through Seascale golf course; increasing the length of time we were there considerably.

I'd of taken some potassium iodide tablets had I known we'd be by this facility this long. However I felt safe, but nonetheless think it bizarre to light a fire , and expect somebody to tend to it for the next 50,000 years . How old is this here civilisation?

Interestingly, nearby was Herdwick Sheep Breeder's Association, this breed of sheep are localised in the Lake District, are grey and appear to be smiling. I could not understand why Charlie didn't like them. After forty minutes, we arrived at our destination, Greycroft Stone Circle.

We walked through three fields to get onto the road; returning us to Seascale. Reading the signs on the way we definately knew where we were.

The Civil Nuclear Constabulary has over 1,500 police officers and support staff. Officers within the force are authorised firearms officers, due to the nature of the industry the force protects. The CNC operates at a total of ten sites in England, Scotland and Wales.

On 2 June 2010, 27 CNC officers were deployed to assist Cumbria Constabulary in the manhunt for the gunman Derrick Bird. Along his route across West Cumbria, Bird killed 12 people and injured 25.

Recommed the fish and chip shop at Seascale, food was delicious. We enjoyed our meal by Drigg beach after taking a wrong turn toward Drigg Low Level Waste Repository.

Pulled the car over near Broadgate to take a picture of the esturary

We paused our journey at Thirlmere; taking some rest by the lake.

We were followed and doxed throughout the entire weekend, out and about around the Lake District.

4th

This morning I walked out of the farmhouse rear door to find both my cade lambs peering at me through a wooden gate.

Between Hawick and Kelso, on our way to Wooler, look what we seen; how apt, LI E Borders, lie about everything and anything to deprive anybody and everybody of something.

Arriving at Wooler we took breakfast before picking up an antique art deco figure. Charlie was planning to purchase a spinning wheel for me, but the one on sale, was broken, ho hum. Here in Wooler I was bemused to see two village idiots and angry at another idiot, sporting a gold and black Chicago Bulls t-shirt, punching the passenger window of our car.

In Northumbria, the red flag means life threatening danger.

After two hours driving we arrived at Castle rigg stone circle.

“There's no life on earth, no other could see me through, You win again, some never try but if anybody can, we can, And I'll be (and I'll be), I'll be (I'll be) following you”.

We drove into Keswick, I purchased two new dresses in town, then booked us a hotel online, whilst seated outside a pub enjoying a pint of Guinness. Scanning good maps I found a budget room within the Kirkstile Inn at £150 a night, inclusive of breakfast.

Charlie [who works with cattle] was concerned about this bull (pictured below), that had knocked down a stone wall, metres from where this photograph was taken.

We returned to the warmth of the hotel.

Both tired, but glad we had walked off some of our evening meal before retiring to bed.

3rd

Yesterday the two lambs ate the silage presented to them, thats a good sign that they are not dying. The first lamb appears to have recovered, but the lamb we found in the woodland is still poorly. Her head has swollen terribly, but atleast she is still eating, even though she is having trouble.

Today I am so happy that Charlie purchased an energy lick bucket for these poorly lambs. Now I am pressing him to fetch more silage fropm work, so they can gain some additional weight. In a few days, all being well we plan to release them back into the herd.

1st

Returning to the farmhouse, I helped Charlie with feeding the sheep; the idea was to corner off eight tups and then transport them to store lamb auctions in Longtown. The tups kept their distance whilst all but one ewe; the other ewe, a lamb was dead, just beyond the horizon, of the farmhouse paddock.

We attempted to corner the tups off, and push them through the gate into the drive where we could be loaded onto the trailer. But they side navigated, countering I attempted to get ahead of them, found myself running, footloose down a steep incline, slipped then rolled into thick mud before Charlie picked me up from the drive.

I waited in bed for half an hour whilst my clothes washed and dried. He returned to the bedroom to say the tups were now feeding on the driveway; if only we'd of had more patience, I thought. Charlie had clearly lost vision for Longtown, and after falling from the paddock, I'd lost if not any inclination to motivate him.

At 11am we attended an appointment to deliver our wool to the wool board in Selkirk.

Deciding to check the welfare of the lambs at grass keep we became aware of two poorly lambs, Charlie placed them into the back of our 4x4, skipping a visit to the second grass keep we drove directly to the vets in Hawick. Examining the two lambs, the vet thought they were suffering from worms, possibly fluke. Other than that, the vet said they could have eaten the wrong plants, the latter I thought being the case.

I gave Charlie my coat as it was pouring down with rain, the sleeves finish a mere few inches past his elbows!

The poorly lambs were transported back to the farmhouse, Charlie lit up the poly tunnel for the poorly lambs to shelter inside. Charlie had been given a light blue coloured drench, which I administered into both lambs orally via a syringe. I enjoyed watching a diffuser I purchased from Sainsbury's today, happy that Charlie isn't allergic to the steaming essential oils that have purged the living room of an annoying fusty smell.

Whilst cooking food, I set up my tent, the first time in six months. Noticed a flower as darkness descended upon the front garden. We did not eat until 10:30pm, sleeping on a full stomach is bad when I am trying to lose weight. During the stillness of the evening we watched a film about the Bubble and Squeak killer before retiring to a warm electric blanket bed.