The umbrella of love

The tea leaf reading predictions were coming true, at least in part. I had left the man I had been dating for 6 years, was now living with my aunt and uncle and due to move to England.

If I had any sense I would have stayed living with my aunt and uncle for a few more years, grown up a little more. I was chronologically 26 years old but socially/emotionally I was much younger. I did not know it at the time but while I was living with my aunt and uncle I was the safest and most loved that I had been for all of my adult life to date. Looking back on that time fills me warmth, a sense of well being and of belonging.

About 3 months after I moved into my aunt and uncle’s, the bar I had been working in closed down leaving me without a job. I couldn't afford to continue nursing school without a job to pay my bills. I was getting regular phone calls from an English man who thought he had fallen in love me and wanted me to move out there. I later realised he was only ever in love with the idea of me and was not able to deal with the reality of my rigidly routine bound semi - sociable mentality.

In the short time I knew him; I had learned that he would never consider moving to Canada. If I wanted to make this work I would have to move to England. Much to my mother and aunt’s horror I decided to do it.

Even though I had lived thousands of miles away from my mom for several years and had not relied on her for anything for an even longer amount of time, she decided that she did not want me to move so far away and even phoned my grandmother with her worries. It was the best thing she could have done from my point of view because my grandmother was English born and had come to Canada as a war bride.

‘It is nothing more than following a family tradition in reverse.’ Grammie said in a futile attempt to reassure my mother.

‘I want a copy of his passport number!’ my aunt demanded as if that would prevent me from coming to any harm.

I, on the other hand, in love with the idea of someone being in love with me, was not at all concerned. I convinced myself that should I ever need rescuing while in England then all I had to do was find a Freemason and ask for help.

In what seemed no time at all, I had quit nursing school, told Paul to stop bothering my family with his lies about how much he loved me, how wonderful he had been to me, how he couldn't understand why I would leave him and so on and packed up my belongings.

When I said goodbye to my aunt, she barked ‘Go! Just go!’

Thinking she meant I was wasting precious travelling time I made my way to the door and suddenly heard her making a weird noise. I looked back to see her in floods of tears which started me crying as I suddenly realised the enormity of what I was about to do.

I took a deep breath and stepped out into the fragrant warmth of their front garden where my uncle waited in his truck with my luggage stowed in the back. I waved to my aunt who was watching me through the window.

I felt as if my wave was a final farewell to the warmth of her love, not yet understanding that real love never abandons anyone that is under its umbrella.

Student Witch

In my mid 20s I began seeking out more information on Paganism.

I can’t pinpoint what the main lure was but perhaps in part because my mother had been a herbalist for so many years, some of my upbringing had centred around Pagan principles and I had witnessed firsthand the healing properties of nature. Or maybe simply due to the lure of the social unacceptability of Pagan practices and beliefs.

One day I happened upon a store in a nearby town which was to lead me along the first steps to a new life in England. It was a witchcraft store, which sold all manner of books, stones, wands, herbs and other tools deemed necessary to practice the ‘craft’. It was crammed full with interesting objects.

Books, a couch and chairs on which to read them before buying, wands, oils, pendants, gems stones, feathers, dream catchers, pipes, incense, scented candles, goddesses, herbs, amulet bags, hooded cloaks made of the most gorgeous fabrics and wonderful colours, a large 'guest' book, a friendly cat and a huge notice board covered in scraps of papers which detailed spells, items for private sale, meetings, phone numbers, messages, small paintings, sketches and so on.

I became a regular fixture in that store, reading and buying books and other items. I joined in evening classes to learn the basics of becoming a Pagan. Being a social recluse by choice whenever possible, this showed me how much pull this way of life had for me. I was welcomed cautiously at first and whole heartedly later on.

I began to receive invitations to join in sky clad (naked) pagan worship ceremonies but, never being one to belong to an organised form of anything, I knew that I was not ready for that kind of commitment yet...

So I continued to take evening classes and to spend time at the store reading books and absorbing the pleasant, calming, beautifully scented ambiance. One day I was relaxing with a book on the settee which sat on a raised area at the back of the store. I had settled there in my customary position, feet tucked up beside me and my right arm hooked over the side. A woman wafted over to me and paused near my elbow.

Wafting is the only way to describe the way she moved. She was so light on her feet, her clothes and frizzy hair so voluminous that I barely noticed her foot fall on the floor boards. I did, however, notice her presence. I was unable to ignore the fact that the winter induced static bristling from the fibres of her cloak like coat was pricking my elbow. I reluctantly looked up and felt a frisson of excitement for she bore a strong resemblance to the woman I used to call my sugar plump fairy when I was very young.

'I read tea leaves' her eyes crinkled at the corners as she spoke

I nodded uncertainly. I had never been any good at interpreting facial expression or inflections in tone of voice. What did she mean by saying those words with crinkling eyes? Was she just being friendly or was she joking? Was she trying to be reassuring and if so, why?

'Would you like me to read your tea leaves?'

Unexpectedly I found myself nodding my head. Yes? I was agreeing to have my tea leaves read? What the hell? I had enough trouble coping with my day to day life as it happened. Why did I want to know what was going to happen in the future?

Student Nurse

I was studying hard and working even harder. I often fell asleep with a textbook open on my chest. I went to nursing college during the day and four nights a week I worked as a bartender.I knew I needed to earn tips to meet my share of the bills and so I made every effort to appear as outgoing and interested in the customers as possible.

The additional emotional processing that is required of me in social situations is both a physical struggle and emotionally fatiguing. Being able to respond quickly to social cues is very challenging and I do not handle ad-hoc situations well.

Unfortunately, being a good bartender who serves customer directly at the bar is all about handling ad-hoc situations. Therefore I perfected a false smile that lit up my eyes and practiced asking questions in varying tones of voice until it became a habit to appear to care about other people’s lives.

I did genuinely care sometimes but most of the time I just felt so awkward having conversations with virtual strangers that I chose to avoid it if I could. Having my face stuck in a text book was much more relaxing and often more informative.

Luckily I made great tips. I could always remember what a regular customer drank and would have it on the bar waiting for him before he had made his way over to me from the entrance. This went a long way to endearing me to them...my short skirt and long legs helped too.

This is a photo from that time, note the perfected 'smile on demand'. I am standing with a bartender that I worked with for a few months, Nino. He is wearing his uniform in this photo. Nino taught me a recipe for the most delicious ratatouille that I still make.

Cockroach Heaven

On the evening of the day we moved into our first place in Ontario, I asked Paul to pull out the fridge so I could clean underneath and behind it. The previous tenants had left the place filthy, especially the kitchen. He pulled the fridge out and the floor seemed to move in unison. Under the fridge were hundreds of scuttling insects, almost the exact same colour as the brown lino floor.

‘What the fuck are they?’ I shrieked and jumped backwards from the tiny kitchen into the hallway so they couldn't touch my bare feet.
‘Cockroaches...I think.’
‘Eeeeek! We aren’t staying here!’
‘We’ll have to get the place fumigated, s'not like we can find another place as cheap as this.’

Paul went down the communal stairs and came back up with the landlord who didn’t seem phased by the horror of our moving floor but promised to get pest control to come in the next day. Paul was right, we didn’t have much choice about where to live because neither of us were working. We were collecting welfare which I found bitterly humiliating and poured over the want ads every day, applying for every suitable job I could find.

Cockroach Heaven was fumigated within 24 hours and all the holes they could find were patched up but the man warned me that unless all the people in the building were clean the roaches would keep coming back. I guess the people weren't because the roaches did.

One early morning I sat on the toilet only to have a roach crawl out between my legs from the space made by by the toilet seat guards resting on the porcelain bowl. Urk, urk, urk! I cried in despair that morning, wondering how long we would have to remain in that shit hole of an apartment. It would be four long months before my grandmother told me that there was a lovely place for rent on the street behind hers. We moved in a few days alter and did not have to endure even a solitary cockroach during the years we lived there.

I have been hypersensitive to sensations my whole life. Daily life makes me anxious and agitated due to the constant over stimulation. I now know that this is a common way for people with Asperger's Syndrome to be affected by daily events that wouldn't even be noticed by neurotypical people. Way back then, when I was still in my 20's, I didn't know why I felt like that.

Soon after moving into that apartment someone introduced me to the insidious pleasure of alcohol. I realised that a couple of drinks could deaden the effects of over stimulation and I began to take the edge off the day by self medicating with alcohol several evenings a week. This couple of drinks 'solution' became a habit that would last far too many years.

Nowadays I am strictly a social drinker. A scare with high blood pressure and other unpleasant signs of my body aging has given me a different perspective on de-stressing. Now I try, sometimes successfully, to calm down with positive reflections.

I remember that this time of year was special when I was young. We used to set up a very tall May Pole on the foreshore common ground. It was festooned with many brightly coloured ribbons dangling from the top. Children would dance round it holding onto the end of a ribbon ribbons, weaving in and out of each other's paths so the ribbons ended up plaited round the pole.

Nice, sunny, calming, memories.

Flea bitten Venus

I stepped out in to the back yard and stood facing the sea. It was warm but the damp from the mist began to layer itself on the bare skin of my arms and upper chest. I moved towards the gate, stepping through the opening and carefully closing it quietly. Not so I wouldn’t disturb the rest of those sleeping indoors but so that I could preserve the delicacy of the quiet morning.

Other than the surf there was silence. No bird song, no vocalisation of any kind. I walked over the concrete path and onto the soft, slightly damp sand. Instead of the natural drifts and marks left by people’s passage and the forces of nature, the sand was shaped into neat narrow furrows that traced the length of the beach. I stepped carelessly, purposefully trying to obliterate as much of this man made rigidity as possible until I had worked myself up into a bit of a frenzy; whirling and dancing like a dervish along the beach towards the area where our car was parked.

Warm now, I left onto the low wall that surrounded the car park with a whoop and heard through the ragged sound of my breathing I heard a whine. Looking down I saw a cringing, quivering, tail wagging, black dog about the size of a small terrier but with long silky looking fur, whose equally black eyes were huge with fear. Horrified that I had scared this dog, I immediately sat down on the low wall and crouched towards it, chirping and rubbing my fingers together, in the hopes of luring it closer for a cuddle.

The dog moved towards me so fast I thought I would get bit but all it wanted was to get as close to me as possible. Within seconds the dog had climbed onto my lap and settled down, content to lie with its muzzle flat on my knees as I smoothed the fur on its head and fondled the silky ears.

Foolishly perhaps, I let it follow me back. By the time I had given the dog a couple of flea baths to try and relieve the infestation, found out it was a female, named her Venus (‘cos I found her on Venice beach...well it made sense to me at the time!) and spent every moment of that week in her company, she was as much a part of my life as Paul was. Well actually she was more a part of my life than Paul due to the fact that Venus was constantly good natured and warm. I trusted her.

Getting her back across the US/Canadian border crossing is a whole story in itself.

Volume two

I've have been lucky enough to receive many emails from people suggesting I write more about my life. Thank you so much everyone!

I had begun posting excerpts from volume two on here though they are several posts down now as the book launch and reviews took priority for a while.

Here are links to the three excerpts that I have posted so far:
So what happened next?
Spatial awareness
Underage in Vegas

I will post the next excerpt soon and once again, thank you to everyone for your interest. I am so pleased to hear how much you've enjoyed volume one.

Book launch photos, videos and more

Hello everyone! Here is one of my most favourite photos from the launch. You can see the rest by following this link: DJ Kirkby And Christopher I King's 1st Book Launch. Huge thanks to Elaine, Leigh and Gina for taking the photos. There are some more photos to be found by following the links at the end of this post. Also a huge thanks to my friend Debs who took tickets at the door and made lots of new friends by giving out the complimentary champagne cocktail tickets. Another huge thanks to 'Aunty' Christy to left her hubby ill in bed with flu and sold the raffle tickets for us. Also a big thank you to Aunty Vixs who got us to the launch at the start of the evening!

It was such an amazing night. I took the day off work so that I would be as sensory 'underloaded' as possible and was ready for hugs from those who had warned me they were 'huggy'.

Carol Burns made me cry lots and lots within 5 minutes of meeting me! The reason why is because she gave me a custom made print. Her art work is BEAUTIFUL and she had taken the time to draw me a gorgeous tree! Carol when you get the right part in my memoir you will understand how significant trees are for me...you giving me one was like a gift of comfort (trees were always my place of safety as a child), with branches full of all the things I love. There is a door at the bottom with 'Love' written on it. Here is a photo of it, you may have to enlarge it to see the detail. See more of Carol's art on her website by clicking here

Much to every one's surprise (including his own), Chopper read the prologue from his book. Before he did that he spent a few minutes making everyone laugh by telling them the hilariously embellished story of how he tried to work up the nerve to read in front of an audience.

For those of you who missed his radio interview and could not be with us at the launch to hear Chopper read his prologue, you can find out what you missed by listening to this audio clip of it being read by the DJ and producer Simon Gibbons. Big thanks to Jamieson Wolf of Night Wolf Designs for mixing it with a video of Chopper's book cover.

'motorbikes, ducks and crsipy sweet apples' prologue
I stood and read a chapter from my book and also spent a few minutes trying to explain how it is that I can have Asperger's and yet behave in an outwardly nerotyopical manner for hours at a time if necessary.

This and most of the rest of the launch was filmed by Leigh. She was struck down by the dreaded 'lurgy' mid week and is still working on getting all the videos onto YouTube. She forced herself out of bed to get this first video up! Thank you so much Leigh, I am touched by your thoughtfulness. This is the video of me welcoming everyone...I apologise for the amount of times I say 'ummm'...I was a bit nervous!
Double Book Launch Welcome
I will add Leigh's other videos of the book launch onto this post as and when she is able to get them onto YouTube.

Update 1 - Here is Leigh's video of me reading from my memoir:
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=YcCPF8B_32Q

Thanks to Jazz Plus for greatly reducing their fees in order to help us raise money for charity and we would also like to thank Daren Callow for his free of charge, one off performance of 'Shrek Rap' (written by Casdok). He has also provided us with CDs with 'Shrek Rap' on them and two acoustic versions of his songs, 'The end of the world' and 'After all' to use as a means to raise further charitable funds.

Some of you were lucky enough to be able to buy them at the launch but for those of you who were not with us, if you would like to buy a copy of this limited edition CD, you can find out how by visiting his or Casdok's blog by following the links above. Below is a video clip of Daren singing and playing 'Shrek Rap' at our double book launch.

'Shrek Rap' written by Casdok and performed by Daren Callow at our double book launch

Thanks to your generosity, we raised £200 which will be donated on behalf of all of you to the Portsmouth Autism Support Network's Education Outreach and The Freemasons' Grand Charity. You can find out more about both charities by following the links.
Other posts with photos and reviews about our book launch can be found here:
Not only in Thailand
Casdok
Music all around the world
Lady in Red
Fiction is stranger than fact
BT-The Crafty Gardener
Troy

And last but not least, I thought that you would all like to know that Chopper made me cry tears of joy last night. He got up on one knee (he had been sitting on the floor watching TV), handed me an exquisite 3 baguette diamond and gold engagement ring and asked me to marry him. I said YES, cried, said YES several more times, cried again, and, well, you get the idea. I am going to be married to the most magnificent man I have ever met. How is it possible that my life is so wonderful?