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Easter Storm

Easter brought more rain, thankfully some Sun and a Storm. 90mph winds brought some trees, some poor folks lost their roof slates and chimneys. One household in the next village lost a large stone chimney, which crashed down conveniently perfectly between two cars parked 3 ft apart underneath. Not a scratch on either vehicle.

A common sight currently around here is Farmers walking around fields like this, checking just how wet the fields are. Like this Field, very very very WET indeed.

As one of the Farmers said to me, ‘Not Good, Way TOO WET. Over my Boots in places. Ducks have even moved into one of my Fields, I wonder if they are cheaper and easier to keep than Sheep.’

That took me back.

When I was a kid, my Dad decided to build a goldfish pond in the garden. I’m not sure Mum was entirely impressed by the eventual size of the pond, Dad had a tendency to get carried away with his plans. It was a big old pond in what was a not very big garden. Only problem was as soon as Dad had filled it with water, two ducks arrived from out of nowhere and claimed Squatters Rights. On and off, we had those ducks for weeks. These days, I would have shed loads of photos to show you those ducks but not back then. No photos, just faded memories. Thankfully I can still see those Ducks and the Pond, but only after the Farmer reminded me.

But without the aid of ever expanding data clouds filled with digital photos, I wonder just how many memories of my childhood are hidden from view. A few too many I FEAR.

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Holes

The Hole of Horcum. That’s a big old hole on the Moors, 400ft deep and over half a mile wide.

Some of the potholes on our roads feel almost as big…

There are so many potholes, thousands waiting to catch unsuspecting drivers or riders. The days of a relaxing drive in the countryside replaced by a never ending slalom, trying to avoid a suspension killing impact. Every week more and more appearing as the local Council has adopted a ‘no intervention policy’. Every week more and more getting deeper. On the way to our closest store there is one pothole almost in the middle of the road which is 6 inches deep and two foot wide. Drivers now resorting to leaving warning cones all over the roads to try and ward off more cars dropping into the abyss.

As currently there is no fuel in any of the local petrol stations, maybe it’s all part of a secret rewilding of the roads project.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 53 Comments

Raise your hand

Mid March and it’s still two jumper weather here in Yorkshire, definitely feeling way more like skiing rather than bikini weather. I would normally say, the kinda weather perfect for huddling round the fire however given the current price of home heating oil…. those two thick, warm, woolly jumpers will have to do.

It’s been quite a while since Hawklad hit 18, when he was officially signed off from the NHS Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service (CAMHS). As there are NO equivalent adult services here, any support he received, ENDED. His care was nominally handed over to the local Doctor service. But here’s the rub, sadly local Doctors are inundated with demands. In many parts of the country, available appointments are as rare as acts of modesty from the US Orange Nutter President.

It’s hard for local Doctors to be proactive, it’s mostly a call them service. Definitely no one has been in touch with Hawklad even to just say…

“Are you ok”

Here’s what really worries me.

So many kids like Hawklad are discharged from CAMHS and are lost in the adult health care system. The need for support doesn’t miraculously end on the 18th birthday, so what is supposed to happen next….. If they have any needs or require support they have to call the local Doctor. Firstly that usually means the dreaded 8am telephone scramble for an appointment. The record I’ve had on that one is

“You are caller number 57 in the queue….”

If you eventually do get an appointment, then mostly that will be a telephone call back by a Doctor. You get at most 7 minutes to explain what’s wrong and listen to the medical response. 7 minutes flies by, ends up feeling really rushed and pressurised.

Not exactly a welcoming experience.

Unless someone makes that call for him, Hawklad won’t. He won’t put his hand up if there is a problem. Just like at school, a large class would have a teacher and one teaching assistant. If someone needed help then you had to put your hand up and ask, support wasn’t proactive. As Hawklad used to tell me…

“I’m not putting my hand up in front of all the other kids and then announcing to the world that I can’t read something, or I’m struggling.”

School would assume if no hands go up, then everything is fine, no help needed. Hawklad ended up getting little or no in class support. The same will happen with support and the Doctor’s service. He won’t be the only one feeling this way. As a result, after becoming 18, how many miss out on the support they really need.

Way too many I fear.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 44 Comments

Signs…

It’s still looking like it’s Winter.

But if you look hard enough, Spring is coming….

Other signs of Spring include Tax Demands, eye wateringly humongous Utility Bill increases, Car spectacularly failing its annual Test, Postman wearing shorts and the first adverts for Christmas 2026. If only I could say Warm Weather as well…

Another sign of Spring is the start of revision for the May exams, Hawklad is definitely not enjoying that.

As he’s revising I must admit I do have a nagging thought. Hopefully the exams go his way and open up a path that will suit him. He’s super keen on University but is aware that there are many obstacles facing him on that way forward. My nagging thought goes beyond that point. What happens after University or whatever path he takes.

What jobs might be open to him, what jobs might still exist by then. A recent headline sticks in my mind.

“1.2 million graduate applicants chasing just 17,000 jobs in the UK”

And it’s only going to get worse. A friend’s daughter graduated over a year ago and after hundreds of applications, is still unemployed. AI is taking out more and more jobs that new graduates once started out in. Plus Graduates are saddled with huge student loans and when they do find a job, they then have the unnerving prospect of trying to find somewhere they can afford to rent or buy. Parents try to help out but here’s the trap. To help out financially parents face the prospect of working well beyond retirement age to fund this but by doing that, it means probably even less jobs available for young people.

I can’t help worry about the future for Hawklad. What career paths might be open to him, what might suit him and then just how many or few opportunities will there be for him.

It’s not always a particularly hopeful thought process.

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Drizzle

Another glorious Yorkshire lunchtime…. A local amateur weather station has recorded so far 40 days of consecutive rain. Mostly not the biblical type of rain, often that dreaded Yorkshire Drizzle, blanking out the Sun, nithering, slowly seeping into your bones.

The kind of weather that even Count Dracula clearly thought too grim. In the novel, he arrived in Yorkshire during a storm and quickly scarpered.

But hope shines eternal.

As I walked through the sodden village, a hardy chap wearing about 30 layers of clothing was carefully weeding his soon to be planted flowerbeds. He looked up, smiled (might have been a grimace), and issued the immortal words

“I pigging hate the Yorkshire weather. Why do I keep living here. Lived here for over 70 years. Well, at least it’s perfect weather for my rhubarb. I do love my rhubarb and custard”.

I think it might well be a bumper rhubarb crop this year….

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Which Monster….

Tropical weather in Yorkshire….

We have a tradition at this time of year, to try and watch as many of the movies with Oscar nominations as possible.

For a movie about Ping Pong that was pretty messed up, Hamnet was a right barrel of laughs, One Battle After Another – I nearly fell asleep, Sinners – I did fall asleep, Bugonia is just ODD….

But one movie needs a special mention. FRANKENSTEIN and its big elephant in the room, or in particular the MONSTER in the room. How unsettling was it to have Frankenstein’s Monster speak with a Yorkshire accent. An intentional Yorkshire accent, apparently it reflects the accent of his only friend, The Old Blindman. Also a bit of Yorkshire was supposed to give the MONSTER a ‘down to earth’ quality. Speaking as someone from Yorkshire, I’m not entirely sure this is reflecting well on my regional twang.

Still it might be about to get much worse for us Yorkshire folk, Wuthering Heights is coming out next month. From all accounts that’s going to paint Yorkshire as filled with HOT SEXUAL TENSION, PASSION, and LUST.

As I ponder all this with a cup of tea and biscuits, I find myself comparing myself to two very different Monsters.

Abusive Heathcliff or Frankenstein’s Creation. Most definitely the Monster with the ‘down to earth’ quality gets it every time.

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Aurora

2026 welcomes in renewed struggles with WordPress. On my iPad, the App is about as stable as one of my soufflés. But at least it seems to be letting me post something now, that’s a step in the right direction, so here goes……

On a grim old Yorkshire weather day…..

Can’t wait to see how the new Wuthering Heights movie paints the Yorkshire weather. Will they make it grim….. in fact will they be brave and use the second part of the book. Now that would be GRIM. Wasn’t that part of the book described as unfilmable.

Anyways in a brief break in the clouds on a grim old day, suddenly that grimness was replaced with awesome beauty. It can be such a wonderful life.

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Why do they do that….

Many things puzzle me about education in the UK. Why on earth do we do that….

Hawklad had just under 3 weeks off for Christmas. He really needed it, online college had been taking its toll recently. He needed a break, many kids will need that break, as will teachers. A time to recharge, relax, have fun, live. But this festive break wasn’t really setup to be a break. He had to work in an exam project which is due for submission midway through January. Shed loads of work involved in that.

That would be bad enough…

Why do they schedule Mock Exams for the first week back in January. So on top of working on his project, he had to revise for 3 exams. All over the Christmas Break. It’s not just the work, it’s the angst and worry of oncoming exams.

I just don’t understand why they can’t push the exams back a couple of weeks. Why can’t we just let kids just enjoy a holiday.

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Eve Tides

New Years Eve stood by the North Sea. That’s a dictionary definition for the word, FROZEN….

My poor old iPhone was really struggling in the darkness.

When we saw the wonderful Kate Rusby in concert, she told the story of a Cornish Village tradition. Where the Village would meet on New Years Eve on the beach. Meet whatever the weather. They would gather around a beach fire. Spend the night chatting, remembering, dreaming, singing, drinking, eating until the Sun comes up. With the first rays of light, silence falls. It’s as if the tide takes the old year away and brings in the new one.

I love that idea.

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Nearly missed it

What do you see and feel when you see a rainbow.

The morning dog walk and a rainbow started to break out over the fields. Did I stop and take in the wonder.

NO…

I was too busy thinking practical matters.

PANTS…. There’s rain heading this way and I don’t have a raincoat. The fleece top was a bad call..I’m going to get wet….. I wasn’t really seeing the rainbow, I wasn’t seeing much through my worry filters.

The best of the rainbow had passed before I came to my senses. What a beautiful rainbow and I nearly missed it. All the wonderful thoughts and feelings started to flood in at last.

But here’s the crazy thing about those worries and angst. Did I get wet…

NO.

The rain did arrive for a while but I was then walking under a canopy of trees and I stayed completely dry. How much energy do I waste on worry, how much do I miss unnecessarily. WAY TOO MUCH. I can remember a huge study by Penn State that talked about over 90% of our worries never coming true, often working out way better in reality.

One day I will remember this, hopefully I won’t miss too many more rainbows lost in my thoughts.