Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 89 Comments

Standards

Just as many of the daffodils start to die back a few late developers are just coming into bloom. I noticed these two early this morning as I came outside to clear my head after a dream.

I had one of those really bizarre dreams. The kind which you have no idea where the brain dragged that one from. I was trying to drive a lorry pulling a massive prefabricated building. For some reason the building still had all the cups and plates wracked up in the little kitchen. So I was instructed to drive carefully and for every broken item I would have money deducted from my wage. I somehow managed to get my load stuck in a muddy friend surrounded by Emus and talking sheep. I was attacked by the big birds so I had to take shelter on top of the prefab building.

What on earth was that one about…..

Anyone who has seen me drive will realise I am the last person you would trust to drive that load. The odd dream did remind me of a very old University incident. Our team had just won a 5 aside footy tournament and we went off to celebrate. We certainly did celebrate. None of the team can remember much past 8pm but I had clearly decided some time in the early hours that it was a sensible idea to fall asleep on top of one of the university’s prefab lecture rooms. For some reason I had brought a large road sign with me for company. When I finally came to my senses I realised that it was morning and a lecture was in progress just a few feet below me. I could here the lecture rather clearly. Embarrassingly it was a lecture I should have been in. I listened for a while but then my pressing need for the toilet took precedent. Unfortunately the only safe route down was on the window side of the lecture room. A few hours later I was talking with a girl who was in that very lecture. She said that during the lecture the students in her section could hear a rather ghostly snoring noise coming from above them. Then she heard the snoring ghost clearly swear which prompted the lecturer to warn the class about bad behaviour. Then it all went quiet until the sound of movement and scraping could be clearly heard from the roof. Whatever was above her was moving towards the windows. A large road sign then appeared to the thrown to the ground. Then seconds later a rather deshelved character swung his legs over the roof edge. Another loud expletive and the legs disappeared again. The sound or more footsteps on the roof. Then a sports bag wizzed passed the window, followed closely by clearly disheveled person hurtling towards the ground at a surprising uncontrolled rate. An audible groan was then followed by another load expletive. I was then seen hurrying in the general direction of the toilets, carrying what appeared to be a large metal sign….

How on earth did I get an honours degree. Just shows you the decline in UK education standards. Thankfully standards are not being lowered in the daffodil world.

Please note I have not touched a drop of alcohol since 2016…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 101 Comments

Laughter

Most runs around here end up with one last slog up this winding hill. A number of cycle clubs use it for races. The British Universities use the hill for their national road race championship. The 25% twisting ascent is a real leg sapper.

But on the bright side it’s a rapid, helter skelter of a descent. On one cycle decent I lost control and ended up in the farmers field. Still not as bad as one cyclist you apparently was rescued after being found face first, stuck in the roadside hedge. You could only see his legs sticking out. That would have cracked me up. As Monty Python would sing – Always look on the bright side….

Over the last couple of years I’ve learned the importance of laughter. It really has been a life saver some days. Really dark thoughts have been broken by a random laugh. A few weeks after my partner and my mums funerals I was as low as I have ever been. But a random chance encounter with Python’s Holy Grail movie lifted my spirts. It was bizarrely the scene where Eric Idle was collecting the dead bodies on the cart and John Cleese tries to get rid of a ‘not’ dead old man. It just touched a nerve and I laughed a lot. It just seemed to brake the spell.

Yes laughter breaks the spell. It’s distracts me. In computing terms it seems to reboot my system. The problem is that often when you need that reboot the most. At your lowest ebb. The hardest thing to do is laugh. The mindset is that your not allowed to enjoy a bit of life. Laughing is just not acceptable. Almost as if it makes you a bad person. Really. For me the two of the nest things I’ve learnt about grief

  • It’s really ok to cry AND
  • It’s really ok to laugh as well.

The news is unremittingly grim at present. Nothing like a pandemic to bring out the worst in our leaders, our media and sections of the population. Today the media was full of misinformation and photographs of empty supermarket shelves. Panic buying has started. So with some trepidation I ventured into the supermarket for a bottle of milk and a loaf of bread. What a pleasant surprise to find a well stocked shop. Then one last gift. With a sense of humour the store was running a promotion on Corona Beer. Clearly with shoppers loading up with the stuff that it was selling really well. Certainly better than in some parts of the world. It’s a shame that I’m on the wagon and that I never liked the stuff anyway. But it did get me thinking – maybe the World Health Organisation should continue naming viruses after products. Especially if it leads to heavy discounts. Maybe the next pandemic could be called the Cadbury’s Cream Egg Virus. I look forward to that discount….

Always look on the bright side of life….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 44 Comments

Snowman

An unexpected view today. But it was a good one. For those with really keen eyes you can see York Minster in the distance. The only city building you can see from this here.

A trip to work expecting to be kept busy until the school bell warms up for its last ring of the day. But quickly the full day was over in just over an hour. That’s the problem with zero hours based contracts. It’s not a stable source of income. But needs must. Full time professional employment was consigned to history when the world changed. Full time single parent – part time wage earner. So another Christmas which will need to be carefully controlled. Probably won’t be treating myself to the Italian Sports Car and the Racehorse this year.

So an unplanned dog walk. And that view. For some reason my mind wandered from affordable Christmas present ideas to snow. Many of my friends here have mentioned the snow they are struggling with. This time nine years ago we were in the middle of our own snow event. It was waste deep here. Our little sledging run is just behind this field. Every time it snowed my partner was out with her ruler to measure the depth. That was the only winter when she needed a bigger ruler. Wow it was cold. One day it never got higher than -17C. Was that the coldest I’ve ever been. My Partner would talk about the cold on her adventure to Patagonia. For me it probably was. Oh hang on a minute That night at Uni.

My mind wanders back further to a time before my Partner. Days of studying marked by text books finding a use as beer glass place mats. And that night. A cold dark winters night with fresh snow on the ground. A Hall of Residence Party which is suddenly overtaken with a brilliant plan. Let’s all go outside and make snow angels. A few sensible souls went out fully clothed. The majority didn’t… In the snow much exposed skin…. Of both sexes. For my sins it was trainers and pants – nothing else. So much laughter but it was a tad chilly. Some interesting snow angels and a very large snowman. A snowman who suddenly became one of the sisters as he acquired a bra. Then disaster the Halls Fire Alarm went off. We couldn’t get back inside until the Fire Brigade arrived. Now it was more than a tad cold. The only thing keeping us going was the bottles of Bud. The looks on the Fire Crews faces when they arrived. Still not allowed inside until a sweep has been made of the property. Then another brilliant idea. Form an orderly queue and take turns to warm your bottom on the Fire Trucks hot engine. I suspect we (or to be more precise the female students) made the drivers night.

Maybe one day I will delve back into that year. It got much more bizarre. But now back to reality. Back to my completely sober years. A present idea. Let’s get one of those cheap singing and dancing snowmen. That will bring a few memories back.