Peter Reynolds

The life and times of Peter Reynolds

Posts Tagged ‘dream

Young Jimmy’s Jolly In Peru

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There’s all sorts of perks to being a government minister you know.  If you’re young Jimmy Brokenshire then as part of your courageous “war on drugs” you get an all-expenses paid trip to Peru to have a good laff at the poor sods who’ve got themselves jailed chasing the white lady.

Jimmy's Holiday Snaps

Apparently, most cocaine in Britain now comes from Peru rather than Columbia so, of course,  it was vital for young Jimmy to get on a plane and do some fact finding.   What I’d like to know is did he find anything of decent quality or is it all crap like it is on the mean streets of Britain?  Did he rub it on his gums, sniff a few lines and get partying or was it bubbling in a spoon and blazed on a big glass pipe to get him rampant and raving and even more dangerous than he is at home?

The terrible story of Nick Jones from West London can be seen here.  He was caught trying to bring back two kilos of Peruvian Flake.  Sure, I feel sorry for him but it’s an extremely high stakes game.  He knew full well what he was doing and chose to take the risk.   Jimmy went along to gloat and use the opportunity for some easy propaganda.  I think he must have still been cracked out though because he told the BBC,  “The liability that you will be caught is very, very high”.  Now that’s some malapropism.  Maybe he’s got some other “liability” or likelihood on his mind or maybe he really was “very, very high”.

It makes me sick that this vile, baby faced punk is frittering our money away on his unjustified jollies.  The Minister for Crime Prevention is a disgrace, a prohibitionist,  a propagandist and a dissembler.  Probably the most dangerous man in British politics, I’d rather see Nick Griffin at the Home Office than young Jimmy.   He couldn’t be worse.  He couldn’t be more poorly informed.  He couldn’t be more regressive or oppressive or smug and self-satisfied.

Jimmy Visits A Peruvian Prison

In my wildest fantasies, maybe someone will slip a couple of wraps in Jimmy’s pocket and he’ll get busted at Heathrow.  A few weeks in Brixton would do him the world of good before his chums pull strings to get him off.  He’d be a better person for it.  He might have to face up to some realities rather than the deluded, fantasy world in which he lives.

Alternatively, maybe he could do the decent thing and swop places with Nick Jones?  Now that would be truly useful.  I’d be the first to recommend him for a medal.  Then, in a few years time we could send someone out to gloat over him!

Well I can dream!

Paradise Valley

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I’ve lived in Sutton Poyntz for six months now. A mile to the south is the sea. A mile to the east is Osmington and half a mile to the north but up a very steep hill is the “top of my mountain”. Walking my dogs around this wonderful area has fulfilled every dream that I dared hope for when I first arrived.

The Mysteries Of the East

The Mysteries Of the East

We have perhaps half a dozen standard walks that we’ve learned, each one of which can be varied with diversions, extensions or shortcuts. Usually we walk for about and hour and a half. The one delight that is always there is a succession of dramatic and quite beautiful views. I never tire of these wonderful vistas across the valley, to the sea, the Isle of Portland and beyond.

I believe that being able to see some distance is fundamentally good for your psyche. Even in the midst of our ghastly capital city on the 12th floor of a vile 1970s tower block there was some consolation to be gained from

Go West Young Man

Go West Young Man

the view. In Paradise Valley the views move me every day as they change and develop with the seasons. Quite why just looking can make me well up and seems to touch my soul, I do not know but it fascinates me that the dogs will do the same thing. We reach the peak of a hill or come round a corner and they will stand on a wall or look over a hedge – and just look.

After one false start, spring is here. In the great national blizzard we got off lightly with merely an inch or so. A fortnight later though and we had our own intense Dorset storm and we woke up to four inches and twelve hours without power.

Taking In The View

Taking In The View

Another fortnight on and the daffodils and crocuses are out. There is already some intensity in the warmth of the sun and all around gardeners are beginning to dig and to sow, to dream of runner beans and strawberries. Up on the hill they were burning the gorse. Quite why I’m not sure. Then this week they brought in a formidable machine which seemed to crawl up and down the sides of the mountain completely demolishing the gorse bushes  and leaving an apparently smooth and fresh sward of pasture.

This required immediate investigation and so the dogs and I struck out for the top. Up closer we discovered a compact bulldozer on caterpillar tracks with a vicious flail mounted on front. The driver told me that it weighs bulldozer-workingsix tons and guiding it across the slope sometimes it would slip andbulldozer slide and nearly give him a heart attack. He explained that the gorse needs to be cut back simply to keep it under control. He’s a braver man than me. Perhaps he doesn’t know that others deliberately throw themselves off the mountain underneath paragliders.

So in a deepening wamth, for the first time since winter took hold, I find time to sit. With the absence of movement, without having to worry about negotiating the hills and the fields, with time just to sit and contemplate, the valley bursts into life. It’s like sitting in a huge and magnificent amphitheatre but there’s not just the single focus of a sport or contest. Every single part of the valley throbs with activity. A family of deer watch the dogs in trepidation.carla-watches-deer1 Countless beautiful, big, brown buzzards soar and swoop. A pair of kestrels hover over the gorse bushes. The biggest rabbit warren I have ever seen, a city full of bunnies, teems with bobbing white tails. The trees are developing that slightly misty look as millions of buds begin to swell and fill. The insect population is burgeoning and heading towards a total that must surely be in the billions, surely exceeding even the number of humans across the whole of our world.

Paradise Valley is blossoming and as it blooms with it will come ever more intense beauty and experience. This, surely, is one of the most beautiful places on the planet and I live right here. For me it truly is paradise.

kestrels1