Chris Parsons’ Blog

Hello A frosty start, wisps of wood smoke and the tip tap of hammers a hammering. The creative festive hum is only occasionally punctuated by a distressing wailing from the wood workshop as Graham attempts a…

Hello I’ve answered the phone, hesitating because I didn’t recognise the number. “It’s Frank, you alright mate?” As it happens I am, it’s Friday morning, and the sun’s out. “Chris tell me this… why do you…

Diary extract: 8th November 2013 (LandWorks has been up and running for 4 months) Apparently last night in prison, Joe was again doing his peculiar Hitler impersonation. Terrifying I should have thought, moustache, slicked back hair…

The actual effect of privatised rehabilitation, via Project Manager Chris Parsons’ fortnightly blog.

Hello There are a couple of things I haven’t told you… This time last year, there was a man at LandWorks called Jarvis, he got caught up in a prison incident. As a result, he was…

Fundraising bike rides, living on £4.57 per day, and washing machines… read Project Manager Chris Parsons’ fortnightly blog here.

Hello “They fuck you up, your mum and dad”   – Mr Philip Larkin 1971 There are times when I just lie awake. Secretly planning, lining them up, identifying those who I know are culpable of…

Hello This week we have mostly been building…a rectangular open box, with no obvious way out and not a lot to do inside (so basically a jail, in my opinion). It is in fact a new…

Hello I doubt I will forget that day. The day I mentioned a trainee police officer would be joining us for a week-long placement. Not because of what was said… worse, nothing was said! Just a…

LandWorks – Hope for people in prison. Read about the state of the prison service today and how it impacts on us all. Via Chris’ fornightly blog.

Hello It’s June 2007 (life before LandWorks), Blair is about to finally leave No.10 and Gareth Jones is released from HMP Channings Wood after a 3-year stretch. Hot, sunny, and day two of his release. Gareth…

Hello This morning I found a little note pinned to the gate, informing me that we have blue tits nesting in our leaflet collection box. As I unpinned the note, I could just make out the…

Hello We were running. Running fast (I thought) to the market stall at the entrance gate. Frank’s haunting words in my head, “That honesty box is a mistake Chris, there’s f#cking criminals out there” (he should…

Hello It’s a perfectly normal day. Apart from a slight kerfuffle early in the polytunnel, when a man emerges proudly holding two dead mice aloft. Yes, it is an exhibition of his primeval prowess, but also…

Hello It’s April 1963, one crowded room in Hackney and Johnny has just been born. Two elder sisters, their father (his part time abuser), Johnny’s Mother (who he would die for) all squeezed in. On his…