Log Blog

I thought all I have to do is keep going until the middle of April; this blog may have started off as just a competition entry but it has turned into an affair of great value and worth.

Mornings begin very early, with coffee on the table in the photograph. There surrounded by seedlings, beans, soaked in the peace and spirituality of Walsingham, perhaps an early Church bell in the distance, sometimes even hymns on the breeze, and birdsong , I am at one.

Inevitably, these days, my mind turns to the B’ og. What to say - I love the little challenge of thinking what to write about. There is not an obvious thing of interest, yet little incidents, insights begin to stir ; there is buried treasure in even a trip to Tescos and what a joy to find it.

Much more than that. I am finding the Blog a huge impetus to my own creativity. Yesterday's sparked of an important project that I spent all day working on and getting out.

Since last October I have been campaigning on YouTube for proper services and recognition of ME. It is staggering to sit here and reach out instantly all around the world. As on PurpleCoo, though much more restrained, a community has grown up, spanning every continent.

People have been urging me recently to enter an International Video Advocacy Contest. The closing date is Monday.

I just could not think of a structure. The rules restrict the film-maker to just three minutes. Apart from boil an egg....well..??

I reckoned without PurpleCoo. All those folk baring their bottoms yesterday on the front page, the Janitor's predicament - play , combined with the creative process , sent me tumbling. In a flash, as I was scrawling my blog, I could see the whole video, its flow and its message, laid out before me.

If you like, you can view the results for yourself on :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayFPLBaRpJU

How many people would guess that this was inspired by Matron's knickers ?

Log Blog

This seagull up on the cliffs yesterday; "Fly my love, fly !" I thought.

There are so many challenges in my life at the moment , especially a new opportunity to get involved at the very highest levels, fighting for services for people with ME. On a practical level I have no idea how I will be able to manage it, for my wife is far too ill to be left. Yet somehow I know that doors will open, for they always do when the time is right.

This is exactly the right time. So much is coming together.

But what a fight. Without resources, I am a full-time carer, my companions are very ill ME sufferers, without an infrastructure, without power, we are taking a stand up against one of the most powerful vested interest and lobby groups in the world, the medical insurance industry.

For ME is much bigger than AIDS or MS.

At stake is whether extremely ill people like my wife and countless others, spend the rest of their lives , as they have spent decades already, in agony with no treatment and no cure. Not a penny is spent by the Government yet on physical research into this World Health Organisation defined Neurological Illness.

They are going to hear from us.

Thank you !

Thank you all so much for your interest in the book. For those who are interested, it is a spiritual book on the meaning of suffering, drawing upon the writings of Pope John Paul 11 and my wife's experience of severe ME. Dotted with prayers and meditations, it may not be everyone's choice !

It's called BEYOND NORMAL PRAYER by Greg Crowhurst ISBN 0-85439-717-5

You can get it on Amazon , you can also get it from the publishers :

St Pauls Publishing
187 Battersea Bridge Rd
London
SW11 3AS
email : editions@stpauls.org.uk
tel 02079784300 Fax 02079784370

Log Blog

Only a week into PurpleCoo and all I can think about is normalising my data now. “This man normalises his data” boasted the slogan the other day on a front page post . Is that right, I thought. There stood a chap , nonplussed , wearing only a woolly hat and a pair of pom-poms. In fact he looked serene with a certain surety of poise.

I can reveal his secret; afternoon tea at the Blakeney Hotel. He must surely have just had one of their treacle tarts, judging by the expression on his face. I experienced my first one yesterday and you could have done with me as you will. Bring on your pom-poms for I am at one and centred.

There is nothing like sinking into the Blakeney's famous sofas , with a sigh, basking in its old world charm and slightly faded luxury.

As for the coffee....

You enter frazzled and leave all normalised.. Wind in your hair, sparkle on the sea, bounce to your step , ready for anything .


So I have this crazy dream.

Of a purple coo in the lounge . One day ?

LogBlog

It was bizarre to be discussing American Foreign Policy with my trousers down
and a woman's hand on my groin; but it could be worse.

I been ushered into the tiny consulting room to await the surgeon and passed the time reading “Failed States” by Noam Chomsky, the American commentator. Have you any idea of how close we are to nuclear catastrophe ? I didn't until yesterday. So it distracted my mind. Thank goodness.

The Consultant urged his assistance, I am still not too sure who exactly she was, to examine my hernia, while he sat on the bed , inches away, reading Chomsky.

We men are not used to this sort of thing.

"Remember the NHS is in a state of chaos” he reminded me, as I fumbled with my buttons, unable to do up my shorts , all fingers and thumbs.

Yesterday was one of those days when you waken up and wish it was wine-drinking time; with your ordeal far behind you.

In reality it was a civilised and respectful affair. We got on well together and as I left on rubbery legs, I overheard the Consultant and his assistant debating democracy in South America. Not if the USA has anything to do with it I could have chimed in , but that is another story and I needed to get out of there amigo.

What is good about returning home here is that it truly is a paradise . The air, smooth as a caress , enveloped in the peace of a silky evening, I came across these two horses, a few yards from our cottage; obviously in love.

This perfect scene; it lit a real glow in my heart.

Wine drinking time.

A tumbling good read !

The other day , in the bookshop of the National Shrine at Walsingham, posing beside my second book. Nine copies sitting on a wire shelf., right underneath Gerard Hughes ; a long time inspiration to me.

This book writing thing , it is not for the faint-hearted..

Take a dream , take two heads, find the idea, say yes, drink gallons of coffee, mix with scraps of paper, recover lost note books, and deleted files , find a pen, add more than a dash of creative tension, the air was blue, sometimes, soften with red wine and mix behind a windbreak, one summer's day on Cley Beach. On that day, writing , heaven and earth collided ; and you have this book.

And then it starts. The rejections. Plucking up of nerve. Picking yourself up. Holding on to hope. The rewrites, draft after draft after draft. Plucking up of more nerve.

Every muscle screaming .

The publisher -yes, the contract - yes-but....

and you end up holding a rather special brown paper parcel one day in your lap.

And nothing you have ever experienced matches the feeling, when you open it.

So, book three is the big one. “Imagine, it is not difficult...”

The opening words .......

Some days are lost in the struggle and yesterday was hard. Even then I was worried about a crucial meeting which I have been invited to attend this afternoon. My billing as some sort of leader is a lot to live up to.

This meeting will affect thousands of very ill people's lives.

So we huddled together on Cley Beach. Far too cold for a coffee, but we poured one, then two, from the flask anyway, sitting on a lump of scrunching concrete. A couple of fishermen arrived for the night, lanterns in hand, silhouetted against the old light of a sparkling sea.

A man with a crew cut walked his Pit Bull home, we held our fearless Corgi on his lead and looked out. A fishing boat very close in, waves not really that bothered. I watched a couple of gulls , but without awareness.

And wasted the time by talking about the meeting. I had already been over and over it, trying to measure all possible outcomes. By the time we packed away the coffee I had forgotten that I had not even been down to the sea’s edge.

Where the spirit soars.

Mind you, we arrived home to a video message from a young girl in Australia to say thank you, for turning her life around. Through our YouTube site, she has been put in touch by someone in Australia, with a doctor who is offering proper medical care and she is now receiving legal advice . Before that she had nothing and no one and was in imminent danger of being labelled as mentally ill, such is the tragic ignorance that still surrounds severe ME.

The day was over far too quickly, long before it had a chance to get started, but I went to bed peaceful, after a celebratory glass of wine.

I woke up, looking forward to the meeting. My wife whispered in my ear last night, I was sound asleep, that Eden has left a message for me here on PurpleCoo.

I can’t help thinking we are surrounded by angels.

Was hoping to post this on the front page but can't get on !

Sing hoo to the Coo
and\ moo to the poo
I live in the country
and so do yoooo

LogBlog's tumbling again
with a hoe so true
so a hey and a hoo
and bully to you (CL) !!

Log Blog

I love it ! I love what Westerwitch has achieved here.

I love it that so many of us have taken our power back. Country Living’s response to its dodgy competition displays a curious understanding of its readers ; on that’s all right then, we are supposed to say, tugging our forelocks, oh yes bring it on : a blogger splash on the old home page.

How easy that would be to win ! But you and I , we could no more win that, than renew our subscriptions. For living as we do, in the country, and writing about real country living, we find ourselves at a disadvantage.

The lid has been lifted, the Emperor stands exposed as a townie’s dream. We knew it all along, deep down. But what anger has been released !

These feelings, I sugest, run even deeper than the hole Country Living are presently digging themselves a bit deep into.

For we have had just enough in this country of spin, deceipt, being manipulated by big vested interest and the vacant lure of celebrity status. Honestly , from the chance to be an honest columnist to the possibility of a mention on a website , as long as you totally, utterly sell-out.

PurpleCoo is that rare thing in today’s mega -conservative world , a genuine people’s movement of the first order.

PC for PM I say and power to the mower as CountryMousie so wisely concluded yesterday.

Log Blog

Tumbling onto your page. Am I out of my depth being a blog bloke ? Great to see everyone. Well done Westerwitch !!! What a day its been.