How wet…

This week has been wet. Very wet.

This kind of weather really makes you appreciate the garden. When it’s too wet to venture out through the back door you realise just how small your world can seem. Extremely claustrophobic.

Yes that garden has been a blessing over these last few months. A play area. A dream area. A place of quiet. An area to breathe in. An area to exercise in. An area to work in. An area to walk in. An area to see nature. A safe area for someone with Aspergers. An area in sit, look and relax. Our area.

So in a brief lull in the weather bombardment it was time to venture out again. Just a few moments. When we returned to the house we were absolutely drenched. But it was so worth it. I remember someone once telling me that

Sun is fine but it’s a bit of a luxury in Yorkshire. What you really need to grow the best Rhubard is proper rain.

At this stage I have to put my hand up and admit that I am probably the only Yorkie who doesn’t like Rhubard. That’s probably why I’ve been called proper posh Yorkshire. Putting that to one side it is true that the Sun is a luxury in this county. Almost an afterthought. But rain does feel like a time of growth and rebirth. After the rain everything seems just a little more green, just a little more healthy. A few more seedlings will have sprouted. And in my case, I’ve become just a little more rusty. So yes rain is good. It’s an essential part of life, ours life’s. To be fair without it my blog would have a lot less words to wade through. So yes I will venture out again as soon as I have posted this. Time to feel that rain on my face again. Time to feel alive again.

But it is also nice to dry out occasionally so please can we get a guest appearance from the Sun. A bit of Sun is also nice to feel. Time to feel warm again……

Building Bridges

A fine northern river. Many bridges connecting both sides of the city. Without those bridges and the city is split asunder.

Son do you want to go out for a blueberry ice cream?

No it’s ok Dad.”

Son do you want to go and visit your Auntie. We can keep 2m apart when we get there?

Not this week.”

How about visiting your favourite toy shop. It’s open?

No I’ve got plenty of stuff to do.”

What about going to that remote walk and going to see that Neolithic site. We can stop off and get one of your favourite pizzas?

No, maybe some other time.”

These are some of his favourite things. In 2019 the slightest mention of any of these would have sent our Son running towards the car. That’s all changed now. He has most definitely burnt his bridges with the world. He is also in no rush to start to build them again. Many people will be in the same boat. We have a community split asunder. Split in more ways than this….

I understand someone from the so called Government was not happy with pupils been kept off school. Kids should be forced back to schools as it will be good for them. They don’t have the slightest idea about Mental Health awareness. Good job we are ignoring what they say.

It’s going to be a long road back for some. Certainly for our Son. It’s pointless putting a timescale on it. It will happen when it happens. Until then the bridges will remain down and we make the best of it. I’m looking out across the next door farm and into the distance. We are so blessed. We certainly can make this work for us. No rush for bridges here.

Thinking

During the summer months two things happen. The Sun beats down from cloudless skies….. And we get constant nosey Parker’s…..

Another largely sleepless night. A combination of a touch of tooth ache and another crazy dream. Great time to get a tooth problem as my dentist is just reopening having been closed for months. Reduced capacity and a horrific waiting list – deep joy….

Yes the crazy dream woke me up but it was so funny. Strangely featuring talking cows. I was trying to garden and the cows were helpfully chipping in with gardening tips. I hadn’t realised that cows knew so much about stuff.

While waiting for the early morning rain to stop, I was pondering life. And not just about talking cows and whether it’s a woolly hat exercise routine. I was thinking about thinking. Some of my thinking is good. Other types of thinking is not so good. It’s taken me years but now I can see this. I do have a habit of overthinking. My thinking starts good. I look at a problem or an issue or a memory. The first thoughts are constructive. How to make things better. The happy stuff. The sad stuff. What to do next. How to live the moment. How to make Son happy.

Then the overthinking kicks in. The second, third, fourth thoughts are hardly ever positive. My internal voices start.

  • What a mess.
  • I caused this.
  • I got that wrong.
  • People will be shaking their heads at me.
  • I am rubbish at this.
  • Why did I do or not do that.
  • People will think less of me.
  • I have so many faults.
  • I am going to make these mistakes again.
  • It’s going to go wrong.
  • I am a loser.
  • I look weird.
  • I talk funny.
  • Poole think I’m an oddball.
  • I am such a let down.
  • Completely useless.
  • They will be laughing at me.
  • And on and on.

Suddenly a never ending downward cycle is perpetuated. I’m spending all my energy on negativity. Living in the past. Forgetting about living today.

So yes thinking is good. But I need to stop the second and third thoughts. Stop the over thinking. That’s easier said than done. It’s a life long battle for me. One thing has got me through life. Helped ease the pain when I have fallen. That is to make sure that I never take myself too seriously. I’ve learnt to poke fun at myself. Ok it might not be great for boosting the confidence. But actually it means that I can accept myself better. It’s also a way of switching off the overthinking. Plus if it makes other people occasionally smile then it’s a complete result. In life it’s often easier to poke fun at others. I’m so not keen on that. Hopefully I will only do that when I know the other person likes it or by their self centred actions – they earn the right for a bit of parody. Unfortunately these days there are a lot of deserving targets. Just got to ensure I save the best put downs for me. You see it’s good for me.

Rainbows

Who doesn’t love a rainbow. My partner adored them. They remind me of happy memories. But they also show me that life goes on. A rainbow doesn’t last for long. But if you are patient, then another will eventually appear.

Life goes on. After you lose someone special, you do forget this. There is always rebirth. That took me a long time to figure that out. For months death marked the end. That’s the frustration. If it’s the end, why is the world still spinning.

Maybe a better way to look at it for me is that death actually marks a boundary. A demarcation between two life’s. That way life does seem to go on. That’s how the world keeps spinning. That makes more sense to me.

So now I look back and see my partners death slightly differently. Her death marks a boundary. The ending of our life together. As the boundary is crossed, no more joint memories can be created. She has left this world. But here’s the key. She left the world a better place than she found it. She did her bit to enrich the people she encountered. That’s a sign of a life well lived. Surely that’s what we all should be hoping to achieve. When she left. She left her little part of this world, a better place. Filled with many memories. Some memories make you smile. Some bring a tear. But these are all memories to be treasured.

So my partners death did mark a boundary. I crossed that boundary. I brought those memories with me. On the other side of the boundary my life changed. Full time parent, tidying up the outstanding issues from the last life, treasuring the precious memories and starting to live again. Striving to leave this world a little better than I found it. Just like a beautiful rainbow.

Running wild

Remember those times before 2020. No masks or enforced social distancing. It seems an awful long time ago. So much enforced change. A world which has shrunk for virtually all of us.

After my partner died the world did shrink for me. No more holidays, no long distance work journeys, less visits to family and friends. No climbing expeditions. Things like trips to the gym even stopped. One thing that kept going was running. Son would go to school and my new found work flexibility would allow a couple of long runs every week. I got to see and breathe the local countryside. Run through the hills, valleys and woods. Every so often a little longer trip to the coast. The delights of a beach run. These became such an important part of my coping strategy. A way to manage my mental health and stay fit.

These runs have now stopped. The last run was in early March. Still there but out of reach. Out of reach until September when the secondary schools potentially go back. Maybe Son will opt for homeschooling and the runs cease permanently. But life goes on. It has to. So the runs have had to be replaced with exercise bike sessions – I have developed a pathological hatred of the piece of rock called the bike seat. Replaced with extra weights exercise in the garden. More CrossFit workouts. And yes with garden runs. A small garden doesn’t lend itself to a great variety of routes. Basically I can keep going round in circles clockwise and anti-clockwise. Constantly going round in circles. I measured it out, the longest straight line run possible is a massive 15 paces. Round and round again.

“Dad school have set a running challenge this week. They want the class to run and cycle. Using the Strava running app they want us all to work together to get to ferry in Dover and head off into Europe. Parents are encouraged to join in. Come on Dad. Get your running kit on.”

It’s a bit like my blogs creaky world tour but recorded using Strava. So I downloaded the app and dragged my tired body outside. I had already done my morning weights exercise routine. And off I went. Round and round the garden. Clocking up km after km. Bored out of my mind. Son did a bit of running himself before he went inside to start his next online class.

Eventually the knees said that’s enough. They can only take so much constant turning. And I went inside to send school the running results. The thing about Strava (and other running apps) is that you get a route diagram. A map of your run. They should look something like this…..

Well mine was a masterpiece. It’s my finest work of art I have ever produced….

The final ironic element to the story. A couple of hours later…

Oh Dad. Just had an email from school. You had better sit down…. Apparently a few parents have complained about privacy and the schools online Strava Running Club. So they have had to delete the club and cancel the running challenge.

Oh well at least I got a work of art out of it.

Horse Racing

Another post and another rose. At least I can grow a few roses. That’s a start isn’t it. A start is usually a good thing…. In this post today means yesterday thanks to WordPress refusing to post last night.

This morning I started looking at employment options. It looks like my job will get mothballed for many months. It’s so dependent on public and sporting events. Realistically these will not properly restart any time soon. So it looks like the sensible decision is to close the company down and then relook to launch again in 2021. Which leaves a decision to be made. As it’s a great fit with my single parent circumstances, do I try to survive on savings until it’s back again? Or do I find something different to either fill in the gap or completely change career path again. So today I today I started looking at available options. I have to say trying to find a job I can make fit round our Son is not easy. I really fell on my feet with this current role. Yes the money is not great but the flexibility is such a bonus. Today’s search just confirmed that. Couldn’t find one option which would work for us. Especially when you factor in the potential commitment to full time homeschooling. But I will keep looking.

Dad not sure a Train Driver is a great idea. Even on tracks you would just end up getting lost.”

True…. what about a Zookeeper

Dad your scared on spiders, snakes, wasps and parrots.”

Ok what about a librarian

Your far too noisy and you can’t even put your own books away.”

Pants that’s true. What about a parking attendant. I would get a free hat.

You are too nice, you would never hand out any tickets.”

What about a chef.

Just NO.”

How about a window cleaner.

Have you seen how dirty our windows are”

So after drawing a complete blank we headed outside to contemplate life, the universe and the state of our windows. There we heard a sound which we haven’t listened to since March. Horse Racing… Our nearest neighbour is a lovely elderly lady. I’ve known her for 18 years now. Over those years she has become increasingly frail and hard of hearing. Each year her TV volume needs to be turned up one extra setting. Definitely now turned to 11 on the 10 scale. Which is great as I can turn my music up just a little louder without fear of upsetting the neighbours. Not sure the quaint old village is quite ready for loud Mongolian Throat metal quite yet… Its certainly not something you hear from my neighbours TV.

She only watches one thing really. Horse Racing. Today Horse Racing restarted without crowds, in the UK and it’s most definitely on next door. That means my neighbour is happy. And that’s a good thing.

Dream

I don’t know why but last night I had a dream about a trip we had a couple of years back to Lindisfarne. A place called Holy Island. You have to drive across a long causeway running out into the North Sea. After a few minutes you arrive at the small island. You can only drive onto the island at low tide. The monastery was founded on the island in 634 by Saint Aiden. It became the base for christian evangelicalism in the north of the country. In 793 it was raided by the vikings and that raid is often seen as the start of the Viking age.

Son absolutely loved this place because of the history. He also liked the thought of walking somewhere his mum had been. We had a lovely holiday here before we became a family of 3.

Don’t know why I dreamt about Lindisfarne. In the dream we were stranded by the tide. Couldn’t get off the island and everywhere was locked up. And the vikings were coming….. Not sure if my car security is Viking raider proof. It will almost certainly invalidate the car insurance.

Bizarre dream.

I keep reading that so many people are having weird dreams at present. I’m certainly on that list. Not going to try and explain it. All I can say is that I do like a good dream but not the endless sleepless hours which seem to follow mine these days. But I am so lucky. A warm bed. Hot drinks on tap. A safe home. Books to read. Old photos to look at. And I am not alone. Tired yes but I can work round that. I’m ok as long I’m not asked about Quantum Theory or French Verb Conjunctions…..

Homework

The hardy old rose bush right next to the front door. Against all the odds, it just keeps on giving.

In a few hours the school at home project restarts again. One more 7 week push before we finally arrive at the summer holidays. What kind of Britain will it be? The old normal, the new normal or something else.

This afternoon was glorious. Hot (for here) and sunny. Unbelievably not a single cloud all day. This is Yorkshire remember.

Yes this is Yorkshire but sadly it’s connected to England. Which means it has to live with the Government’s take on education. So while the sun beat down, we were inside. Trying to get homework completed and revision to stick. It’s bizarre that we force kids to work during holidays and weekends AND yet we have a part time Prime Minister who avoids such weekend and holiday work at all costs…. Yet again one rule for the many and another much nicer rule for the few.

The really frustrating thing is what exactly is the homework achieving. Four hours today and what did our Son learn….

What is the point of this Dad. I’ve not learnt one new fact. Not done anything which is interesting. I’m bored out of my mind. My hand hurts from writing and I dislike these subjects even more.”

Sadly I can’t argue with this. The school system here has been deliberately broken. Not by the teachers but by people in The Government. People who enjoyed the benefits of expensive private education. It’s not about developing individual kids now. It’s all about ticking political boxes for those in power. This government will not change its mind. But change is needed. So it will be local change.

We will continue with the school at home project until the summer. Remember this is not homeschooling….this is just trying to do exactly the same school lessons just not with the kids sat at a desk in the cramped classroom. In the summer our Son will decide what he does next. To go back to school or to go for full homeschooling. It’s his call. If he defers to me then he is leaving school. But what to do with the next 7 weeks. We have just brought in a new house rule.

Son will only be expected to do additional homework if it meets one of 3 conditions

  • He will actually learn something from it,
  • He will find it interesting,
  • It actually is going to contribute to his overall assessment. (Staggeringly much homework does not. Frequently it is not even marked in detail and sometimes not at all.)

We did have a fourth condition but that was dropped

Dad that’s a pointless condition. How many kids will honestly admit to actually wanting to do a piece of homework. Definitely never me….”

So if a piece of homework does not meet one of these conditions then he won’t be asked to complete it. I will write into school and let the teacher know. If the school wants to push it then they can deal with me. In our house – I am the headteacher and remember I don’t currently have a PM…..

Epic walls

It’s not quite the Wall from Game of Throne’s. It’s hardly Hadrians Wall, the stuff of history. But it’s our barrier. Our symbolic wall. Marking the edge of our current world.

Yes it’s got nettles growing against it. Even on our side. Ok it was too cold for the Game of Thrones Wall to have nettles but Hadrians Wall has some stinging beauties lurking next to it these days as well…And that’s a World Heritage Site.

“Dad our world is pretty small but it does seem to have its fair share of weeds and nettles.”

Well not that many.

Dad it took us three days to find my football when it went into hedge. The language I learnt when you had to retrieve the ball from the bush. Apparently you got stung a quite few times .”

Yes quite a few times. It’s not big or clever to use bad language. But in my defence we back onto farmland. It’s a haven for weeds. Our fence does feel like a not so big wall trying to keep out the marauders.

“That feeling we got when we visited Hadrians Wall last year. I can remember the date. 15th August. When we imagined what it must have been like for those Roman centurions stood on the wall. Hadrian came to Britain and ordered that the Wall was to built in 122AD. It took 6 years to build and stretched from sea to sea. It was 80 miles long.”

Its definitely an epic wall.

“Our farm fence is not 80 miles long. Maybe 20 paces long. It certainly doesn’t keep out the weeds. But at least it keeps the world out. So it does it’s job.”

Yes it really does. It allows a space for an Aspergers mind to flourish. A place to breathe and feel safe. So yes it’s an epic wall. A wall to be so thankful for.

No Rose Show yet

No jokes today. No script. Let’s just see where this takes me.

It’s the very early hours. It’s my partners birthday. Once I’ve finished I will close the iPad for today and hopefully I will see you tomorrow.

These are strange times for all of us. But to be fair it’s been a strange time for our little family since 2016. That’s the year the world stopped and changed for us forever. Those six weeks from hell. We lost my mum and our Son’s beloved little nan on the first day of that period. That day started as a fun birthday for me and finished in heartache. Almost straight after the funeral my partner wasn’t feeling great and went into hospital overnight for routine tests. The next day having come to pick her up, I was taken to one side by the Doctor to tell me that things where bleak. She only had a 5% chance of surviving the month. Zero chance of making it to Christmas. She was deteriorating rapidly and she wasn’t really conscious. The following conversation with an 8 year old will haunt me forever.

She never fully regained consciousness. We had no more conversations. I can’t even remember the last one we had. Three weeks later I was telling the 8 year old his mum was dead. 2016 and those six weeks from hell.

This day in 2016 I had just given my partner a plant, a Yorkshire White Rose. She had always wanted one. I wish I had bought it so many years earlier so she could have enjoyed it. Since then it has always bloomed in time for her birthday. Not this year. The bad winter has set things back. It’s a few weeks behind schedule. But it will get there. It’s a hardy soul. It feels like one of the few life bridges which didn’t break in 2016. A link to a world now gone but certainly not forgotten.

So now I will focus on our Son. Yes there might be a few tears but hopefully if I do my job right then there will also be smiles. Let’s be thankful for those wonderful times. Let’s remember those other times when the world changed. Changed for the better. Our first date. Our first night in the new house. Finding out those pregnancy results. Holding our baby. Our first family family holiday.

Wonderful, loving times.

So that’s it. Take care and remember that this is still a wonderful world. No more words today. See you tomorrow.