Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 67 Comments

Inside out

That’s a sky that could tell several stories in my dreams – so tempted to try them out.

Somedays I can operate perfectly well in tired mode. Then you get other days.

Woke up this morning to find that I was a zombie. I hear you ask – well what is the evidence for these bold claims. Well brace yourself, I shall tell you…..

  • In my head, I was still debating if I should get up or just rollover and go back to sleep again – I didn’t realise I was actually already out of bed,
  • The eyes were open but it felt like they were closed shut,
  • When you try to open the bedroom door but only manage in walking straight into it, TWICE….
  • Take the wrong turning to the bathroom …… yes lost in my own home,
  • Struggle to understand where the toilet has gone and apparently it has been replaced with a fridge and cooker,
  • After I realised I was actually stood in the kitchen, my journey to the bathroom was cut short as I walked painfully into the kitchen table,
  • Once in the bathroom it was thankfully largely uneventful apart from dropping the bathroom paper roll (toilet roll) into the toilet bowl,
  • Time to feed the pets. Somehow gave the dog the cat’s food. Then the bemused cat got dog rations. Dread to think what the gerbils got,
  • Made breakfast completely forgetting that I’m supposed to be on a fasting diet and not eating until the afternoon,
  • Made a herbal tea but then decided to add almond milk – not a great taste.
  • Burnt my hand on the toaster making toast I wasn’t allowed to eat,
  • Went outside to give the dog his morning constitutional. Stood in the garden and suddenly realised that I hadn’t got round to putting a shirt on yet. That was bracing and not entirely liberating,
  • Stumbling back inside to get ready for my morning workout. That seemed to go ok. Well until I started working out only to discover that my shorts were inside out and on back to front.
  • Coming back inside to make Hawklad his breakfast. Completely forgetting that I had already made in an hour ago.

So yes it’s a zombie today. It’s not easy being a zombie.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 66 Comments

Weeds weeds weeds

In this photo the farmers field looks well kept, flat with short grass. In reality it’s like walking over a minefield. No flat bits, huge holes, long grass, thistles and presents from the farm animals. Maybe I should try taking a long distance photo of our garden. It might look semi tidy. Ha Ha Ha

Yes we currently have a well cut lawn – well if you ignore the beautiful mole hills and badger diggings. That’s also conveniently ignoring the rampant moss growing amongst the grass. The other parts of the garden are not good at all. It’s an uncoordinated mix of weeds, flowers, more weeds and vegetables. I was hoping the theory that ‘beauty can be found in the random’ might be true. Always an exception to the rule.

Apparently some vegetables in that mess
A bit of a tidy up has started…

Then looking on in amazement at Erika’s wonderful garden. Now that’s a garden. Looking at Derrick’s stunning garden. Now that’s a garden. Time to convert that amazement into action. Time to ditch the random…

I’m in planning mode. Making plans for a potential future road trip to Switzerland and Lichtenstein. Making plans for a dream trip to another continent. Now making plans for the garden. That’s a plan that I can start to implement NOW. If we are going to be garden bound, might as well make it a nice one. Under orders from Hawklad the plan will need to include a rock pool and a weed section. Well with the Yorkshire rain we won’t need to worry about refilling the pool and weeds – we have plenty of those. That’s a good start.

It’s also a good check on my life in general as well. My life has become far too cluttered. Too messy. Trying to fight on too many fronts at the same time. Not sure of what my priorities are. Just like the garden, it’s become overgrown and confusing. I then don’t seem to achieve enough. Lose sight of the path ahead. So yes a garden plan is good, a new life plan would be really good. That way I can really focus on what is special to me.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 94 Comments

Potatoes

It’s potatoes for tea tonight….. Something nice about eating your own vegetables. Anyone for chips or crisps or boiled potatoes.

In the end a few went into a warming vegetable stew. Didn’t predict that.

Before 2016 I (We) spent far too much time living the future. Thoughts about retirement. Marriage in the future. Visiting places like Canada and New Zealand – in the future. Planning for retirement, maybe even an early one. Dreaming of moving to Switzerland, down the line. Another child, one day…… And yes worrying about the future. Too much time thinking about what could go wrong with meetings, plans and life. Given all the time spent worrying it’s telling that the one thing that happened was never thought about.

Then the world caved in. That future had just died.

Suddenly my mind set changed. From spending too much time living in the future, I suddenly was living in the past. Reliving memories. Too many what if, why didn’t I – questions. Refusing to move from a door which had just shut permanently. So much wasted energy.

Now in 2020, hopefully the balance is now better. It’s more about living in the moment. Yesterday has gone, tomorrow does not exist yet and is so unpredictable. The only thing I can influence is the present. Just try to enjoy every single moment. It’s not easy but so worth it.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 56 Comments

Needs work

Another moody Yorkshire summer afternoon. Everyday it’s such a blessing to wake to this view. No wonder my partner fell in love with this house within seconds. And as ever she was on the right side of the conversation. The ‘needs work’ line was a little weak. Actually it still needs work but that view is still here. Tell me what’s more important.

Looking back my line about ‘needs work’ was more about avoiding change. Sticking with what we had. Avoiding that leap of faith. That’s been a theme of my life story so far. I always think my past climbing hobby is a perfect reflection of life. Many goals set but never attempted. It was easier to avoid them, find excuses. Too much caution climbing routes. Using fear and self doubt as an excuse to avoid those more challenging climbs. Backing away from leaps of faith. Yes I had fun but what could have been.

Now the life safety net has been removed. Single parenting and being without that person who held my hand on those big steps. Life has changed but so am I. It’s a slow process but it’s happening. Now is the time to face some of those fears which have held me back. Time to start ditching those constraints that have grounded me. Time to re-evaluate myself. Only by doing that can I be that parent our son truly deserves. Yes the one who protects him but the one who also encourages him to truly flourish. To be that person who he truly wants to be. To live his life.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 94 Comments

Rain…

Rain, rain, rain.

Chucking it down.

Raining cats and dogs.

Hammering it down.

Siling down.

Bucketing down.

Teeming.

Nice weather for ducks.

I think we are moving from weather for ducks to weather for fish. It’s a good job we are on top of a little hill. Any lower down and we might be considering a life raft.

“Dad what are you doing?”

Listening to the rain.

“Why?”

Because it’s almost hypnotic. It’s kinda nice.

“The only reason I would listen to the rain is to workout when it’s stopped…. Dad I‘ve got a little question….”

He does have a point with listening to the rain. That last line is his favourite saying. He is always asking questions. Dozens and dozens every hour. When he says a little question he really means one question followed quickly by a bombardment of another 30 questions. Random questions to me but completely linked to his way of thinking. Often it seems like the same question but in fact each question is subtly different. Questions followed by a chance to demonstrate his Dads rather sketchy knowledge in these areas. Then a chance for son to instruct his Dad. This happens always in the garden, every day. If it’s raining then on go the coats.

Today it was three hours of football and fantasy world related questions. Looking at player stats, team records, form, tactics and formations. Intertwined with questions about characters, storylines, plot arcs and new worlds. Yesterday it was 4 hours of questions about politics and history.

Over time the daily fact and knowledge bombardment can tire my mind. Lack of sleep doesn’t help. Two parents allowed some time to share the questioning. A time to rest the mind. But it is what it is. Constantly walking about and hot drinks keep me going. But here’s the key thing to remember. It’s an absolute privilege to be granted this time with our son. To be welcomed into his world. A beautiful world which is more pure than ours. It’s what life is all about. So yes it can sometimes feel like it’s wearing me down BUT I wouldn’t swap it for the world.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 75 Comments

Not my berries

Wild strawberries get everywhere. Now they have found a way into the large tub which contains the old blueberry bush. This raises one of the great life mysteries. Wild strawberries are cropping up all over the garden. Even on the stone drive. Yet I find it impossible to grow them when and where I want them to. Nothing ever happens with my strawberry seeds. Most frustrating….

So officially no work until September at the earliest now. I guess it gives me more time to tend my strawberries. But we are SO fortunate compared to many others. We have beautiful memories. We have a nice (if slightly chaotic) garden with a lovely view. We are relatively secluded. Son can feel safe here. We can scrape by and pay the bills. We can still have fun and enjoy life. Yes another 3 months of this self contained world can at times seem a claustrophobic thought. But that thought is there only if I let it exist. In reality I’m losing a few brief encounters, some knee jarring runs and an occasional trip out. Counter to that – Son is gaining a feeling of security. For that security I can more than cope with a few inconveniences. Everyday we still have the ability to create memories and live out our dreams. Maybe not my frequent night dreams featuring talking cows and dinosaurs. But you know what I mean.

So let’s be thankful for what we have. Let’s use what we have. Let’s remember to live.

Let’s take the time to watch the wild berries grow…

The other thing about the wild strawberries is that they don’t last long. The are stripped bare by our frequent garden visitors. That’s fine with me. I guess they were the ones who brought the seeds here in the first place. So they grew them, so why not let them enjoy the rewards. And the answer to the great life mystery. I should leave the gardening to the experts. The wildlife. Having said that – they don’t seem very willing to cut the lawn.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 61 Comments

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……

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 55 Comments

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.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 86 Comments

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…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 96 Comments

The forecast

The weather forecast is saying it’s clear blue sky and no rain today.

The clouds and the showers would beg to differ.

Another inaccurate weather forecast. It’s clearly the forecasters fault that it’s raining …. It always is. I remember going to a Test Match (Cricket) between England and India. It had been a good weather forecast. But it was chucking it down and play was suspended. With perfect timing the main TV weatherman came onto the pitch to do a weather forecast. I’ve never heard anyone get so many boo’s. It was his fault that it was raining.

To be honest we get many incorrect predictions. Leaders saying a pandemic will just go away. Those pension salespeople saying that you will be able to retire at 50. Being told that Betamax and V2000 would be the best video recording formats. No one would be daft enough to vote for Trump or Boris. My Dad saying Status Quo wouldn’t last as they can’t sing or play. Brexit was easy and could be sorted in days. The Sinclair C5 was the vehicle of the future…..

Basically life is to unpredictable. You just never know what will happen. What’s round the corner.

I know this all too well. One day your talking about the next family trip to Switzerland. Discussing trying for a second child or adopting. Then 3 weeks later I’m leaving the crematorium with my partners ashes. A broken single parent. That wasn’t in the forecast or the plans.

We often learn this lesson far too late. I did. Don’t assume there will be a tomorrow. Remember to hug those you love today. Start ticking off those bucket list items, right now. If something special to you is broken, then try and fix it today. Today, speak to those you care for. Make sure you live today.

Lecture over…. And yes it’s still raining here. I blame it on the weather forecaster.