Well not quite…..
Can you spot someone practising to be either Cyclops from the X-Men or Vision from The Avengers.
This was 7.20pm on Christmas Eve. It’s as white as it’s going to get. Thought I had better take a photo while it’s at its DEEPEST…..
So as we fight to survive this mega blizzard I want to send you warm winter wishes your way. ❤️
Another day and another email from school. Another pupil has tested positive. I’ve lost count of the pupils isolating now. One year has about 80 isolating out of 130. Another year has about 60 isolating. Countless teachers can be added to the list. Sadly that’s what happens when a cramped and old fashioned school tries to operate at full capacity during a pandemic.
Unfortunately it’s a story being repeated across the England. The latest figures show that last week 400000 pupils were have to isolate. 50000 pupils had either tested positive or were suspected as having the virus. It’s almost as if the Government is trying to get as many of our children infected as possible.
Surely it’s time to bring in better controls within our schools. For a start opening up online education options to all pupils has to be done as a matter of urgency. That would instantly create space in classrooms. Cramped and overcrowded classrooms have to be consigned to the bin.
And still it rains.
And rains.
And rains.
And rains…
It’s refusing to stop. At least I won’t need to water the tomatoes until say 2023. There is a joke here about it always rains on a bank holiday weekend. Guess what this weekend is….
“Dad sometimes having social and virus phobias is a good thing. Little chance of me asking to go to the beach or a fun park today. It saves you getting drenched.”
That’s true Hawklad. Always something to be thankful for.
“Apart from supporting your football team. Wow that’s grim.”
We all can’t support teams that win anything. Newcastle United’s job is to give all the other teams a good laugh. At least we have a good shirt. Can’t go wrong with black and white stripes.
“The shirt never changes Dad. It’s boring. You look like a walking barcode.”
It does change. Sometimes it’s black and white stripes. Then sometimes it’s white and black stripes.
“You do pick your teams. What happened when you started supporting that German Team”
They got relegated.
“Then you followed that Swiss Team, what happened.”
Erm they got relegated.
“Bit of a pattern developing here Dad. Oh do you remember you owe me a forfeit for losing the last challenge.”
How could I forget.
“Wasn’t it to sit outside in the pouring rain with no shirt on”.
I believe it was to sit outside when it was warm.
“Dad WHAT was it.”
To sit outside in the pouring rain with no shirt on.
“Now would be an ideal time. But as I am kind I will grant you something. You can wear your barcode footy shirt.”
I’d rather not. Given how rubbish my team is, that shirt will just disintegrate in the rain.
**********
So yes I sat outside in the pouring rain. With a cup of tea and yes my football shirt. The tea was warming, my shirt didn’t fall to bits and I thought about some happy things. Yes definitely always something to be thankful for.
Roses, roses, roses. Thank you for roses.
Beautiful, resilient and a bit of fight about them.
A flower than can melt the heart and then draw blood.
England has even had civil wars over a white and red rose.
**************
I’ve always felt a strong link to roses. That’s not surprising since I come from the White Rose County. Yet the link is stronger than that.
The last present I gave to my partner was a rose. Since then that delicate white rose has been intrinsically linked with my grief journey.
We have another rose which is decades old and has come from my partners childhood home. So it’s a link with Hawklads past. Family members now gone.
I also often look at a rose and see symbols of life. Today I was looking at a rose and it made me think of friendship. Some of the rose buds seem to go on forever. If you are lucky in life you may find one of those friendships that do that, always special, always beautiful, everlasting. Yet you also see rose buds that fail to bloom. How many times have I had thought that I had found a great friendship yet for whatever reason things never seemed to take off. Then you come across those roses which burst into life, producing the most stunning flowers, yet within days they have died back and faded. Just like those friendships which seem like they will be the best ever and yet suddenly they end – wonderful but not ever lasting, so short lived. You just never know with roses and you just never know with friends.
Today it was friends but on another day I will see roses symbolising another part of my life. I’ve done it with grief, parenting and hope. What will the Rose show me tomorrow?
Patience. Apple Crumble will eventually be on the menu. Just need to wait.
So today the news is filled here with stories of thousands of kids getting exam grades downgraded because of a statistical algorithm. The UK Government backing the decision as the don’t want ‘kids being over promoted beyond their abilities’. The irony – coming from a Government filled with the most incompetent, over promoted, out of their depth numpties this country has ever seen. Our kids deserve better than this.
“Dad how unfair is that. That year group is not allowed to sit exams. So they have to go on schoolwork and what the teacher grades the kid at. Then they randomly drop the grades because they don’t think they deserve it. It’s just not right.”
It’s not fair. Especially as they are not doing the adjustment to kids going to Private Schools.
“Dad is there anything Boris and his team has actually not messed up. Pandemic, brexit, exams, sending warships after immigrants in rubber dinghies, food, trains, environment, schools, hospitals. I might even blame them for the weather.”
I can blame them for my team not winning a domestic trophy since 1955.
“No that’s just cos Newcastle United are rubbish.”
Ok but I can blame them for the state of the garden and the tomato plants.
“No Dad that’s down to you.”
Fair point but surely Hawklad, I can blame Boris for my burnt baking.
“No that’s the muppet baker.”
This is not going well…. I blame Boris for allowing a Sith Lord to be in charge of the country.
“That’s Cummings is it not. He does look like an evil villain. It’s scary that he tells the PM what to do. I will give you that one.”
It is scary. But not as scary as the thought of Boris being PM.
“Even you would make a better leader. Now that’s a thought. You could be this countries first ever tea total, vegetarian, single parent, Newcastle United supporting, useless cook, world class muppet ever to be our PM.”
That would be an honour.
“Even better your place in history would be guaranteed. The worlds first world leader called Gary….”
The world needs a hero, it needs a Gary…..
Still summer is glorious. Had been hoping to get outside, have a chat and be creative with a pencil, but the weather is just not playing ball. This is midday…..
The school at home project has allowed this Dad to see some practical evidence of the progress and issues which son has with his learning process. The level of insight that is just not provided to parents from schools. Maybe in class sizes approaching 30 this type of insight is just not collected.
After these 3 months I have a better grasp on the dyslexia position. The feedback from school has been limited to
That’s it…. Nothing else in just under two years.
So what insight has the last 3 months provided.
I’m not a trained teacher but I have a valuable quality which many teachers don’t get in UK schools. Quality time. Time to focus on one pupil. That is something which is not permitted under the current government led approach. An approach based on schools operating like automated production lines. That must be another vote for homeschooling…..
I stumbled across a few old photos. From a time before parenting. Even before my first ever digital camera… A time when my body was still young and I could run up mountains. A time when the wind would still blow my thick long black hair across my face.
A trip to the West Side of Northern England. To the Lake District and to one of Englands most famous mountains. The Old Man of Coniston. It’s not a huge mountain standing at just over 2600ft. But it’s steeped in history. It’s positioned next to the beautiful Coniston Water. The walk to the top takes you through old copper mine workings. Alongside a couple of stunning little tarns. Then finally onto a summit with sweeping views.
Hopefully one day I will return to the summit. A summit climb with considerably less hair. Which will take much longer this time and feature many sandwich stops..
Yes an excuse to sneak in a Switzerland photo when it’s not Sunday. A country which just does things better than here in England. When the Swiss organise a bird lineup it is always going to beat ours.
I was racking my brain to think of stuff my country can do better than Switzerland. It’s not an extensive list so far,
Will stop now as the longer this list gets the more depressed I get at the thought of living in England. Yes we have some things we can be rightly proud of but the list of not so good stuff is rapidly expanding. Bring on my weekly Swiss Sunday…..
Good to see the local motorway is busy…. It’s still too busy for our son. I got special dispensation to step 10 yards out of the front gate to take this photo. Life on the edge.
It really does feel a bit like that at present. On one hand we have what apparently counts as our Government rapidly relaxing restrictions and on the other hand kids like our son….
His social and health phobias are in a pandemic fuelled maelstrom. Every few minutes he feels the need to wash his hands. To repeatedly rinse his mouth out. The fear of germs and hidden dangers becoming a real nightmare for him. He struggles to touch items like taps and handles. Even putting potentially unclean shoes on is a challenge these days. Deliveries have to go into garage quarantine for at least 4 days. Clothes need changing every few hours. And then another spanner in the works. The old house boiler completely failed. So a service call out is required. It’s now way beyond a temporary Dad patch up. That means an additional new threat to sons safe area. A house visitor! After much discussion we agreed a plan. The service engineer would come into the house only via the back door. The engineer must wear a mask at all times. I will keep 2m away from the engineer at all times. When the work is finished we will effectively lock down half of the house. We won’t venture into the areas the engineer visited for three days. Not ideal but it’s a plan. Son’s stress levels will rise but hopefully not too far. The damage to his safe area minimised.
Yet individuals like our son are expected to just re-enter the world by July 4th. The date our part time PM is declaring as the day he defeated the virus. The date he can heroically restart England. It’s perfectly fine to open overcrowded public schools in September. A few more hand sanitisers in the corridors and relaxing the rules further to allow for even larger class sizes to cope with increased teacher sickness is now the best way to deal with a pathogen. We are told ‘everything is now fine’ by the very leaders who have been proven to be wrong on virtually every single major decision they have made over the last 6 months. The very leaders who now widely seen as charlatans and pathological liars. People see this. Our son sees this. This just adds fuel to his anxieties. It’s making a bad situation even worse.
So when England reopens on the 4th July a small bungalow in Yorkshire will not. It stays on lockdown until son is able to face the world again. Who knows how long that will take. Much patience is required. We won’t be the only family facing this prospect. Again my country further fragments. I’m not entirely sure it’s ever really going to come back together again.
This is from a couple of years back. A two hour car drive to the west side of Northern England. The Lake District. A place that sometimes feels just a little bit Alpine.
We stopped off at Castlerigg Stone Circle. One of the countries finest historic sites set amongst the countries highest mountains. It’s was erected in the Neolithic period. Sometime around 3000BC. Yes even before I was born. It’s one of those special places. Yes it’s popular picnic site now but it still has an atmosphere. It just feels different. Many years ago after a days climbing, I spent the night here. Just sat on the ground in the middle of the circle. I’m not sure why. Maybe waiting for a ghost or something. Didn’t see anything but when I walked away after sunrise, I had never felt so calm and relaxed. It’s that type of place. I could so imagine a great fantasy author coming here for inspiration.
What struck me about the second photo is the look on my two faithful companions. New visitors had just arrived at the site. The four legged one, I suspect was eagerly checking them out for food or toys. The young boy was definitely not so eager. Once the site started to fill up a little then it was most definitely time to go. Crowds and Aspergers are not great bedfellows. That’s why the time to visit places is such a delicate scheduling task. The choices tend to be
As a result visits tend to be fleeting. They also sometimes require really early starts. In this case we set off at 5am. That’s not ideal but needs must. One definite advantage. Nothing better as you drive away from a site and passing the traffic queues waiting to get in. Does that thought make me a bad person….
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 