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Terrible Poetry

Somedays are more tiring than others. Some days are more stressful than others. Somedays the serious words don’t come. Somedays it’s best just be silly.

It’s been too long. Actually I can hear shouts of ‘not long enough’. But here goes. It’s Terrible Poetry time. The Bad Bard is back. All thanks to Chelsea Owens Terrible Poetry contest.

https://chelowens.com/category/contests/terrible-poetry-contest/

This time the rules are….

  1. Topic: The family pet, written Golden Shovel Style. Here are the rules for the Golden Shovel: Take a line (or lines) from a poem you admire. Use each word in the line (or lines) as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Give credit to the poet who originally wrote the line (or lines). The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the poem that offers the end words.
  2. The Length is up to you.
  3. As far as I can tell, Rhyming is up to you, too.
  4. Whatever, man, just make it terrible!Dredge up Fido’s memories and remains through the worst eulogy printed on Purina Puppy Chow. Set the still-living Princess Catarina howling in indignance. Send Horace the hamster spinning with rage.
  5. Let’s keep the Rating: PG or cleaner. How risqué do your animals get?

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Thursday (February 3) to submit a poem to Chelsea.

So which classic poem shall we go for. Something poetic, something beautiful, something deep, something philosophical. Let’s go for a classic opening line that ticks all those boxes. Maybe Shakespeare, maybe Blake, maybe Wordsworth. Or maybe Philip Larkin, maybe his classic ‘This be the verse’ with its uplifting first line…..

‘They F**k you up, your mum and dad’

That’s me kicked out before I even start…..

So let’s use those poetic word gems do type an ode to Captain Chaos. Let’s make it Terrible.

His best buddy is a seriously fat cat, it’s far too quiet, where are THEY

They have just pulled the curtain off the wall, what the F**K

Now it’s on the floor, covered in hairs, well Thank YOU

Captain now thinks it’s great fun to try to hump the cat, that’s seriously messed UP

Even The Cap knows you can’t end a sentence with a possessive determiner like YOUR

But he is a clever dog with a great pedigree, a beautiful white Spitz is his MUM

He gets his intelligence, looks, fluffy hair and cunning from her AND

being a right ruffian, rogue, rascal and rampantly randy from his Cocker Spaniel DAD

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 39 Comments

Poems

Who are EWE looking at…..

Hawklad had an English assessment to do at home today.

Compare how poets present attitudes towards a parent in ‘Follower’ and one other poem from the ‘Love and Relationship’ anthology.

One poem was provided the other poem had to be recalled from memory, the class has been trying to memorise quotes from the other poems. 45 minutes to answer this one…..

Hawklad was suitably impressed…..

“Dad that was 44 minutes too long to answer that….”

“Dad don’t you think the poets would have hoped people would read all of their poems, rather than just trying to memorise little bits of their work like parrots”

“If I’m going to memorise some prose, then it’s going to be Shakespeare”

“I’m as bad at poetry as you are Dad….”

He did his best and that all that counts.

I was suitably not impressed with the question as well. I just wish schools and exam boards just thought a bit more about the questions they are setting. A question about parents and poetry seems relatively innocuous but of the thousands of pupils answering it, how many have lost a parent. One of the poems the class had to examine stresses the importance of a mother to a child. How’s that going to make kids like Hawklad feel. How many don’t have a parents at all. How many haven’t seen a parent in years. How many are going through hell because of their parents. This question could be really distressing for some pupils. Surely that’s not fair, surely that’s not right.

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Snowdrops

The first flowers of 2022. Winter might not be over but it feels much more manageable now.

There is a local saying here – The first snowdrops bring the first real snow. We shall see but the sledge is ready to fly down the hill. One of the advantages of a large posterior is that once the sledge gets going, wow does it get going.

Sill waiting for the school week to get going. Hardly any work provided today but that means Hawklad can set his own learning agenda. It necessarily great for his exams but much better for his own development. So while he was learning about multi universe theory (that’s not the Marvel version) I could go outside. Outside on my hands and knees. Checking at the beautiful new arrivals. That definitely feels more satisfying than the usual Monday school lesson day.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 45 Comments

Weaponised Baking

It’s been a while. Too long. But fear not. Baking is back. As Spock would say, it’s baking Jim but not as we know it…. I like to call it Weaponised Baking.

I know so many of you wait for those Michelin Standard baking tips. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

So here goes.

I was about to bake a loaf of bread but I wanted to spice it up a tad. Maybe add some cheese, or a few Mediterranean herbs. But it just didn’t go far enough. What could I find in the fridge or cupboards which was game changing..

A few hours later we have……

I give you gluten and dairy free, no added sugar – BLACK FOREST FRUIT BREAD.

The end result, just a bit different from cheesy bread. The taste, well it’s different. As Hawklad described it

“Well it doesn’t taste poisonous, it’s a unique sensation. Its like my taste buds are being assaulted…..”

True weaponised baking…..

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Looking

Another early finish to a Friday school at home day. A few bits of work, some random, time consuming bits of homework. All done by 1pm. So time to head out for an afternoon stroll. A much needed stroll. I could get use to these Friday school days. Good for Hawklad as well. He finds it easier talking about his worries when he’s outside. Talking is good. Bottling them up is not so good. A few worries talked through then he can call the start of the weekend. Talk switches to fun stuff and we all need a bit of fun. Fun is good for the soul.

A very Yorkshire weathered statue. No it’s not in our garden…..

Walked past this statue so many times over the years and yet I’ve never taken the time to notice the details. But this week I took that closer look and look what I discovered on the plinth.

You just never know what you will find.

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Nearest

Early morning frosty walk.

One of those walks where it feels like you have the world to yourself.

And someone is on a mission to find the nearest tree.

Sometimes that nearest tree is frustratingly too far a way for such little legs.

February 2020, the last time Hawklad was at school. Where did those couple of years go……

Up to that point Hawklad hadn’t been comfortable in school. Well not his current secondary school, a school with over 800 other pupils. Too big, too noisy, too many sensory distractions, too many faces, too many strangers. It had been so different at his first and so much smaller school. Just 2 classes with no more than 40 kids. He felt more at ease there. He made some very good friends there. Frustratingly those friends got spread around the next school with none in his class stream. But he did manage to make a few more new acquaintances. So he did get to socialise with people his own age.

Then the last two years happened.

Two years of school at home.

In those two years, socialising has been at a premium. Two years and he’s seen one friend. She is good friend he met at his last school. They play some online games together and have met up a few times. But that’s it in two years. That is one consequence of a pandemic.

Two years and counting.

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Skating or not

Not sure it’s skating ice. Certainly not this skater. You will find more aerodynamic elephants.

Four lessons today in theory but in practice just one turned up. Add to that all the homework is up to date. So plenty of time for things like skating, or in my case, sinking. Hawklad is used to these quiet teaching days now, so he does his own thing. So he looks after his own learning. Maybe not exam related but definitely not wasted learning.

So while Hawklad was immersing himself in American Political History I played with the school’s online parenting portal. Lots of helpful information – so I’m led to believe. But I did find one thing that caught my attention. Homework stats. How much homeworking has been set by each subject. Can you guess which subject has set the most work since September. Not Science, not Maths (no homework set at all), not History, not Geography, not English, not Design Technology…..

So in second place on the homework league table we have Information Technology.

And the clear winner. The subject which has set the most homework.

Religious Education.

Why did I think it would be something like Science. Giving its homework I think Hawklad would prefer if it was something like Wrestling, Chelsea Football Club or SpongeBob. I would definitely take skating over pesky homework. But here’s the serious point. What is the point of homework. Is it adding something to his education or is it just about eating up time. Sadly it feels like the latter too often.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 48 Comments

Golden

A golden sunset produces stunning tree shades.

I’ve talked about how my bereavement journey has moved on. I’m not stood next to that permanently locked door anymore. Life has to be lived. That’s something I didn’t think I would ever say in the early days. But approaching 6 years after the world changed and now I can.

But what about Hawklad.

Losing a mum is devastating. Losing a mum at 8 years old is beyond words. I did what I could but there is a limit to what anyone can do in those circumstances. If he wanted to talk, we talked. If he wanted to forget, then I shielded him. Understandably he found it tough to talk about his mum. He found it distressing to hear references to death in TV shows and Movies. Professional Grief counselling has been slashed by Government cuts, so he is still waiting…. So we muddled through.

Roll on 6 years. He still finds movie references to family death tough, so we still try to avoid. But here’s the thing. Now he can openly talk about his mum. He asks lots of questions about his mum. He wants to learn more about her. He smiles and laughs at the memories. He is getting there.

We are getting there.

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Drifting

One if those bright but misty starts to the day. Fog and mist is part of life here.

The School at Home project has seemingly moved into another phase. Clearly the class lessons in school are now more about revision than learning new information. A few lessons continue to teach but most are in permanent revision mode. During these revision spells the feeling of Hawklad being cut adrift from his classmates escalates. Direct contact with the teachers just seems to disappear. It looks like teachers run through past questions or ask the pupils to go through classroom notes. Class discussions, white board answer review. This just doesn’t transfer to the home based pupils. So lessons go through with hardly any contact. In class you can compare performance with others. Kinda benchmark yourself. That can’t happen at home. Hawklad tries to work with the bits that are distributed but it’s all a bit haphazard. It does feel like he’s aimlessly drifting. That can’t be a good thing.

With final exams not much more than a year away, is it too late to pull him out if school. Do our own thing with qualifications. Or do we just soldier on with this. It’s not such a clear cut decision but one that isn’t going to go away. He is no nearer returning to class.

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Moving two

Another school exam at home today. More walking about. More music. Not much sitting around. The exam room was basically the house and at one stage, extended to the garden. It works for Hawklad. He gets more information onto the papers this way.

So I spoke to school. What are the alternatives to exams. The initial response of a separate room, under exam conditions, just doesn’t go far enough.

I watched Hawklad do his work while in perpetual motion, my mind wandered back to university. My last exam there. I wonder what Hawklad would have made of that.

Everyone in fancy dress. I went as a Roman Centurion including fake plastic sword. I was not allowed to take the sword into the exam room, it was deemed a banned item. I’m not sure how a cheap plastic sword would aid with any Degree Paper. During the exam, the overall experience was bizarre verging on transcendental. I can remember many of my fellow exam candidates. All living the last few hours of a 4 year course. A chap in traditional Moroccan dress, although everyone thought it was actually more like Obi-WAN’s Jedi costume. A girl dressed as a mermaid. Another as a air hostess. Barbarella made an appearance. The Blues Brothers, Thelma and Louise, The Village People and Elvis all turned up. A guy dressed as one of the Charlie’s Angels. That guy was clearly in much discomfort during the 3 hour exam. He couldn’t sit still. Apparently his figure hugging garment was applying too much pressure to his nether regions. I had the other experience. My centurion tunic was a little on the short side and it kept riding up. Not only was my modesty under threat (I was conscious of the poor female friends in viewing distance) but it was also far too draughty for my liking. Those Centurions were seriously tough, wearing so little while stood on the exposed Northumberland Hadrian’s Wall during winter.

The crazy thing is that it all that mayhem and madness worked. We all passed that exam. Most with higher marks than expected.

I wonder if school would consider that particular exam adjustment. I wonder if Hawklad would. One thing is for sure, I’m not fitting into my Roman attire these days. I suspect that even a 10 man Roman Tent would be tight around my thighs now.