Love, Hope and Bootcamp

Jun 13, 2024

Love , Hope and Bootcamp is the fourth book in this incredible true love story. All the information has been carefully transcribed from over 1000 original love letters. For four years the teenagers Patsy and Bill have fought to be together. But now is perhaps their biggest battle. The country is at war, and they are separated yet again. Poor Patsy is devastated as her one true love is prepared for war. If you do not believe in love then don’t read the book. If you do then travel back to 1952 and hold your soul mate close.

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Chris Griffiths Author

Chris Griffiths Author

A British Author

Do you remember that bit of old log I found down by woodchip mountain? Well I actually didn’t see it as a piece of timber cut down to make way for the new HS2 railway site. I saw it as a forbidden love. Of two living trees wanting to be together. But not allowed because they lived in different parts of the forest. Because they were different types of trees and were expected to be with their own kind. They loved each other very much , but it was easier not to. They lived apart from each other and pretended not to care. When the once strong body of the male tree started to die, the now little old lady tree wrapped her branches around his once strong bough and held him as close as she could . She placed a purple rose on his heart and they took their last journey together. The symbol of love will now sit in the garden. I hope you enjoyed my little story? ... See MoreSee Less
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My hands smell of dung. I mixed some very old dung today and it was ripe. I have scrubbed them but they still stink. However it did not stop me eating two packs of crisps, then licking the salt off my fingers. Once a feral puppy, always a feral puppy. Anyway I forgot to mention what my salvage redistribution was. It is when I get given someone’s excess or rubbish and pass it on. Or if I have to pay for it I sell at exactly the same price. It isn’t about making any money but re using good stuff, making people happy and interacting. I really don’t think we talk to each other enough. We talk at people, we message people, but we don’t share enough eye contact. I don’t want to know how great someone is. I want to know what makes them happy. So myself and Saff will give you a recap of our unofficial salvage redistribution scheme. There is no paperwork and it’s all in my head. I will begin many months ago. I got some railway sleepers from Adrian. Carried them home and shared them with Malcolm and Pam. Pam gave me some hanging planters so I gave her some vegetables. I am giving the planters to Debbie and Ian. And Ian gave me a hose. I gave the hose to Keith along with some free bark. Gemma gave me some old slabs from her garden and I gave her some raised beds which Ian gave me. I am going to help his wife with her books because she is great. Holly gave me some drills which I gave to Dave. I gave Andy an old recycled bench and one for the allotment. Dave the postman gave me potatoes and flowers and I helped his son load some bark from woodchip mountain. I gave neighbour Dave some of the slabs. Young Harry at the top gave me an old mountain bike. I will pump up the tyres and give it to a lady I know who has a little boy. And I am over the moon because my wild hollyhocks are blooming, I have a few hours to work on my garden art, and my neighbour Dave has made me a bee home for my garden. So in Chrissy and Saffy world today is good. Please have a peaceful day. Ps The old wheelbarrow Pete gave me is now with Mick the Rat, he gave me some bean sticks. ... See MoreSee Less
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Do you know the best thing about being a grown up? It isn’t owning a home. A big car. Designer shoes or watch. It isn’t about financial independence? It isn’t about being able to drink or smoke. It isn’t about being able to travel the world. The best thing about me being a grown up is laying on the floor with dog and being in her face. As a child I was always chastised for hugging the dogs, rubbing heads with them, or pressing my face against theirs until they laughed. I was told that they would bite me. Or that I wasn’t to go crying to anyone if my face got tore off. Well I wish to report that I have fussed thousands and thousands of dogs and never got bitten. However I have been bitten several times by humans. ... See MoreSee Less
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Yesterday’s cream tea with a dear girl was such a success that we did it again today. Please excuse the mess, as we were gardening on the table. And I was covered in mud, sweat and stain. And Saff doesn’t judge me by my appearance. Oh what a cultured pair we are becoming. ... See MoreSee Less
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I will not lie, I have the devil in me today. Myself and Saffo had our bananas, I put some clothes on, then we went out for a walk. We wandered down the road where the people wave to us and the vehicle drivers hoot their horns. I find myself either saluting or giving a regal wave. I must resemble our dear late Queen. But only if she were heavily tattooed, baggy shorts, t shirt, Wellington boots, and big white teeth. We wandered by lady with crimpy ears dogs house. She had a broken washing machine on her drive. A brand new one was to be delivered. I put my hands on my hips and yelled “My God woman you must have some money”? Very defensively she replied “Well my old one was broken”. I then went into a full rant of “When we were children my Mum was so poor she washed our clothes in the sink. And us kids took it in turns to make the noise of a washing machine, in case the neighbours were listening” . I said that pretending to be a dryer was best though. Because we all shook our bodies and rattled the furniture. This dear lady is now at the stage where she just stares at me. She says things occasionally to make me be serious. But that hasn’t happened to date. She stated today that her husband had Legionnaires disease. I pointed my recently found magpie feather at her and said “ You are too working class to have Legionnaires disease in your house. He has covid, rickets or scurvy like the rest of us”. We left her speechless, with the delivery men laughing, and carried on our journey. We then bumped into lady with two yorky dogs. I was busy being cheeky to her when the young off duty police officer and dog walked past. Everything he does is by the book. His harmless dog has a muzzle. His personal mobile telephone conversations end with the word over. He wears sensible training shoes to walk in, and he says stupid grown up things to me. He is less than half my age but he says “I hope you are behaving yourself today”? I reply “Go and get laid”. He ignores that. Even his hair has a nice parting, as if his Mum brushes it for him. Actually she might. But me and Saff are tatty with the arse hanging out of my shorts, and Saff had wild bird feathers sticking out from her collar. I have them behind my ears. Today whilst talking to yorky lady he marched past and said “ You should have used the crossing instead of rambling aimlessly”. Yorky lady smiled because she knows me. At the top of my voice I said “ I can guarantee you were a milk monitor at school? And you didn’t start fiddling with yourself until you were seventeen”? He stormed off whilst we carried on the conversation about school milk, and how much she enjoyed it. I told her that we couldn’t afford real school milk, and my Mum used to pop into the classroom every morning to breast feed me. But when I was fourteen years of age she stopped doing it before it got embarrassing. She burst out laughing, shook her head and went home. Myself and Saff now have a redistribution of foraged items day. But I will tell you about that tomorrow. And remember this. Don’t talk to strange men in the street. ... See MoreSee Less
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