There was a time when you could put some faith in the UK Government doing the right thing and providing a modicum of truth…….
So the Government are instructing parents to send their kids back to school after the summer holidays. The clear message is that it is perfectly safe. No need to worry. In fact no need for schools to observe most of the current pandemic and social distancing regulations. Those things just complicate the return process. Parents who fail to comply will be fined.
On the other hand….
A number of areas are reporting spikes in Corona Virus cases particularly amongst the younger age groups. The Director of Public Health from Liverpool issued the following warning – “this is a really dangerous moment for case numbers and we need people not to let their guard down.”
When the Prime Minister’s Chief Advisor broke lockdown rules he was defended by our so called leader. Johnson said the following “he behaved responsibly and with integrity and followed the instincts of every father.”
I will happily see you in court Boris….
It’s just been days of angry weather.
When I see this type of stormy clouds I remember back to my childhood. As you got older you started to realise that in our seaside town the weather would always seem to come from over the hills and follow the river to the sea. For us that would mean the weather would first appear to the north west. That was in the direction of one of our neighbours gardens. So the following weather expression was frequently heard from my parents.
It’s luking black ower Mr Homans Potting Shed, aye get thy washing in.
When means you have just a few minutes more footy before your summoned in as the heavens have opened. If the weather ever came from over Eddie Cook’s Pigeon Loft then it was time to get the paddling pool out.
Strangely parenting forecasting from the 70s was far more accurate that the current UK Meteorological Service best guesses. Currently the weather scientists are telling us that we have light cloud and less than a 10% chance of light rain. Well tell that to the paving stones which are currently being jet washed in the nonstop monsoon.
So let’s ditch the UK’s dodgy weather science and go old school. So here are a few other old weather laws that were passed down to me.
- Red sky at night fisherman’s delight, red sky in the morning fisherman’s warning,
- Mackerel Clouds in the sky then the weather is going to change,
- The Sun or Moon saying hello means that rain is on the way (saying hello means having a halo around it),
- The greener the Rhubard leaves the worse the weather will be,
- Wet seaweed means rain is coming (I never bought into this one as surely that just means the tide has been in recently),
- Rain at lunch will be gone by tea (basically saying the UK weather is changeable),
- When rain is coming the spiders will disappear,
- Rainbows before lunch tells us that rain will be here all day,
- Cows sit down when rain is due (must admit this is clearly true as I was watching an episode of Ben & Holly where the wise old elf foolishly took shelter under a cow when it started to rain),
- When smoke rises the weather will be good. When it fails to rise them bad weather is due,
- Expect a bad winter if the hedgerows produce loads of berries,
- If you want a dry day best to have dew on the grass in the morning.
One last weather law. I had a friend whose dad was a complete nutter. So funny. I remember him telling me once about his rabbit. He explained that his rabbit would only eat carrots when it was raining. I asked what it had to eat when it was sunny and he told me with a smile – I don’t know, will tell you when we get the sun, patience lad I’ve only had the rabbit 3 years.…
So that’s me out of weather law. Can anyone add to my knowledge?
Looking at this photo I think I can confidently predict no need for sun protection….
It’s been a few months since I went trail running along this route. The first time I did this route I remember thinking that the route will gentle meander up the hill. Wrong. A direct, straight up mud fest.
When we came walking here with the dog I remember telling our son that the route was into the trees. Straight up and then down the other side. His response
Why don’t we just walk round the base of the hill. We will eventually end up in roughly the same place. Makes more sense to me.
That is the perfect metaphor for life and parenting. It’s something I’m desperate to learn from.
Each person, each child is unique. What works for one person may not work for another. My path might be right for me but is it really the right path for our son. The answer is probably NO. So why should be follow me up that hill path. He sees the world through his eyes not mine. He will see and interpret things differently to me. He has to find the route that works for him. That’s the way he becomes the person that he was meant to be. Not the person I, or the government or society believes he should be. He has to live his OWN life. Become the person he is most at ease with. His true self.
“Dad why wasn’t I christened?”
Because that has to be YOUR decision not OURS…..
I might be convinced that homeschooling is best for him. But only HE really knows, so it has to be his call. If in September he decides that school is safe and that it’s where he wants to learn then he will go back.
It’s tough for the parent. Trying to find the right balance. I probably get it wrong every single day. But the secret is to learn from those mistakes. Parents should learn just as much or more from their children than we teach them. So hopefully I can stop myself from saying things like
- You need to do…
- This is what will happen…
- This is best for you…
- That is wrong for you…
- This is the truth…
Replace these phrases with
- What do you think…
- How do you see things…
- What is your heart telling you…
- What works for you…
- This is only my opinion…
- It’s your call…
Ultimately it’s HIS life. It’s the ultimate privilege that he allows me access his world. To sometimes act sometimes as guide and but more often just as a companion. But it’s a two way process. He also guides me. More than he realises. Until he decides to spread his wings and fly, then I’ve made the life choice to be that companion and occasional guide.
Something is brewing above those yonder hills.
I remember many years ago I was climbing with a man with a beard in Scotland. It’s always good to have a beard on a climb. Kinda reassuring. When we headed out from camp the weather was lovely in an early summer way. But slowly the dark clouds rolled in and an hour into the ascent it was getting seriously dark. Over my shoulder a similar multicoloured cloud formation formed. I remember thinking that this can’t be a great weather omen. But the beard decided to push on. Within 20 minutes the heavens opened. Torrential rain, turned to hail, then into heavy snow. Heavy snow in a June – wonderful. At that stage the beard was overthrown as team leader and we turned back. Always better to live to fight another day. The mountain wasn’t going anywhere. Always tomorrow for climbing it.
Well something like 23 years later that mountain is still there. It’s still waiting. The weather was too bad to climb the next day and that was it. We had to get back to the day jobs. Haven’t been back to that mountain since. You see fatherhood and then single parenting ended my climbing career. So many mountains left unclimbed or in this particular case, 50% climbed. But that’s life. Good things and bad things happen which change the course of our journey. Those enforced route changes do sometimes mean sacrifices have to be made. Elements of our very existence which have been core to our wellbeing sometimes have to be left behind. Maybe they can be picked up later, maybe they have gone for good. Losing these key parts of our life’s can be so soul destroying. I guess the secret is to hold onto the memories and embrace the new life
But it doesn’t stop that longing. I do every so often get out my climbing books and look at the photos. Read about the routes. Try to imagine the summit views. I can still dream. Who knows what the future may bring. And in the case of the photograph the immediate future brought Sun and another stunning rainbow.
Above the church it looks like that an RAF pilot was bored and decided to try and do a signature in the sky. Hope he was smiling when he did it.
Late last night I was watching the Queen biopic and my mind wandered again. Sometimes my mind wanders that far I’m surprised it makes it way back before breakfast. Actually maybe it doesn’t – that would explain things….
Anyway I was watching Queen and thinking about concerts. In all the years we were a couple, we only went to four concerts together. She somehow managed to convince me to see Ronan Keating TWICE. Don’t tell anyone that as I might get kicked out of the Mongolian Heavy Metal Grunting Club. I managed to convince her to go and see Meatloaf (the deal was I drove and she could drunk wine). The last concert was Tom Jones – I resisted the urge to throw my underpants at him…
I guess like most couples our rock and roll lifestyle went out of the window when we became a family. That was it. No more concerts together.
PLEASE don’t take this the wrong way. This is not a sad post. I’m smiling while I’m writing this. There was a very good reason why we didn’t see many concerts together. We had completely different musical tastes. Her cds have not been touched in the last three years. Why? I could say it’s because it just wouldn’t be right. Listening to the music would make me sad. Actually the real reason is that I’d rather listen to a chainsaw grind on for hours than endure any of her cds. I will never get rid of them, but they are never, ever going to be played by me. They have become a thankfully silent reminder of our differences. The differences that made us work as a couple.
I can only think of one other possible use for them. If you haven’t seen Shaun of the Dead then this will make no sense. If we ever have to fight off a zombie attack with only our record collection, then her music is fired first….
I guess the point of this post is to say that
just as it’s ok to cry when you are bereaved, it’s absolutely fine to smile as well. It’s your bereavement, you do whatever you need to do with it.
Still not what you would call postcard Christmas weather yet. This is lunchtime. Having said that how often do we get the crispy white stuff at Christmas anyway in North Yorkshire. In the 17 years we have lived here I can only remember one White Christmas. However I can remember many like the photo above.
When I was a kid I remember one really heavy snow Christmas Day. I remember sinking to my belly and my wellies filling up with crisp snow. Can also remember Dad going out before lunch to join a number of other men trying to clear the footpath. He told me it was so that the kids could get to school. Strange as the school was shut for another week. It was also strange that the cleared path went in the opposite direction to my school. Bizarrely the men stopped when they reached the pub. Can’t think why.
Our son’s school has now broken up for Christmas. So if it does snow I won’t need to worry about clearing a path towards it. One thing I do need to worry about is another little tradition of ours. How to keep the pets off the Christmas Tree.
The cat likes to try and sleep in it’s branches.
“He is a very big boy, our biggest cat”
That is how his Vet described him. So he doesn’t make the best tree climber. We usually find the tree toppled over with a slightly confused cat underneath it. Then we have the mad dog. Captain Chaos loves a tree. So much so that he likes to try and relocate it to his dog bed. This normally results in the tree toppled over which makes it so much easier for the mutt to pull it. Lord knows what Team Gerbil would do to it.
So my chair has to be relocated next to the tree. So I can sit and basically fight off unwarranted pet tree attention. It’s only a matter of time before the tree is toppled over and I am underneath it. Bet I would get the blame for that. That thought brings a smile. When I was 5 or 6 my family would put a real tree up in the living room. The family comprised mum and dad, my brother, three sisters and a very big dog. A dog who once bit the postman and then bit the local bobby (policeman) who came to ask dad to better control his pet. The tree would be filled to the brim with decorations. Prize of place on the tree would be these little silver paper wrapped chocolates. Either in the shape of Santa or an Elf. From Christmas Day onwards we were allowed to have one chocolate decoration a day. But this particular Christmas someone helped themselves to a decoration early. Three days in a row. Unbelievably I got blamed for it. Then on Christmas day the real culprit was caught in the act. The dog. I’m still waiting for my apology.
***WP is going into awkward mode again. Doing things like switching off comment boxes and stopping me liking other blogger posts. Normal service will be resumed when WP allows me to***
We have talked about how important Rock music is to our son. He has a number of music related bucket list entries which he is keen to tick off. So for his birthday I saved up the coins in my trouser pockets. Routed underneath the sofa for lost money. Worked my butt off. All to afford a few concert tickets. We saw Kiss a few months back. In a couple of months we are off to see his favourite band – Alter Bridge. And a few days back we went to Leeds to see ….
First bank of the night was MC5. That band who did Kick out the Jams in 1969.
Then it was The Stranglers.
Then it was
Time for Alice Cooper.
Son had seen Alice in the Hollywood Vampires but was desperate to see one of his epic rock opera shows. He wasn’t disappointed. I remember seeing Alice back in 1991. That night I never dreamt that 28 years later I would be watching him again with my son. That’s so cool.
Think son has his first crush. Nita Strauss. She is Alice Coopers guitarist. Dad does as well but it’s not my first….
Happy son can now tick off one of his top bucket list items but has added a new item on the list. See Alice again.