A beautiful start to the day. Early morning. A time for reflection and renewal. The perfect time for yoga and meditation.
Well that’s the plan.
The reality was somewhat different. A creaking, stiff body. A sleep deprived mind and a cat. Yes that cat. The big boy. The biggest cat on the Vets’s books. Yoga is too much of a temptation for him. Great for him. Not so great for yoga practice. Not the greatest photos. Too dark. Cat way too close. Trying to hide my exposed short covered legs….
L
Temporary farmers field lake is still going strong and still delivering. Kind of want it all year round. Wonder if my hosepipe will reach that far….
I’m not sure it will.
I was doing my morning torture ritual. Set the alarm to go off while it’s still dark. Exercise and then let the real torture begin. Yoga. Trying to follow the helpful and really nice instructions.
“To extend this pose why don’t you just take those knees just a bit lower…”
I’m not sure they will.
“This is a scrumptious hip opener why don’t you just hold it for another 10 seconds…”
I’m not sure I have the will.
“Try to breathe in through your nose to the count of 7 and then breathe slowly out to the count of 8.”
I’m not sure my lungs will.
“Now try to touch the ground with the outside of your left knee while twisting your body as far you can to the right.”
I’m convinced it will not do that without rupturing my spine.
“While keeping your right leg off the ground cradle your left thigh with both arms, start to rock.”
If you count going into catatonic shock as rocking, then I can…
Back to dark, moody weather. Apparently it’s warmer that’s why I’m wearing a wooly hat, gloves and 38 layers….
You know your tired when you function without using your brain. You make a drink with the coffee machine but forget to put a cup in the holder. You drop a full toilet roll into the bowl. You put your shirt on inside out and back to front. You give the cat dog food and the dog gets cat food. The washing machine programme settings are several pay grades above your abilities. And you microwave a tub of mint chocolate ice cream rather than a frozen cottage pie.
Yep getting a few of those days recently.
And then I just have to raise the brain fail stakes….
Cutting hair while tired. Starting to trim without putting the No2 guard on. In fact NO guard. End result a rather fashionable shaved area. On the plus side it’s a national lockdown so no-one outside the house is going to see it for weeks. Plenty of time to grow back. And as my parents would say ‘a rider on a passing horse won’t notice..’. They would also say ‘only 2 days between a bad hair cut and a you need to comb your hair cut’ – in this case make that a few weeks…..
The real village lake and it’s frozen. That does not happen that often. Must be cold.
The call came from Hawklad’s counselling team. All visits are suspended until further notice. Basically until the lockdown is lifted. Which is such a shame as Hawklad had just met his new lead professional. She seemed really good. She set up weekly sessions but these are now on hold. They are going to try a video version but she is not hopeful that it will do any good. He hates all things Zoom and it really throws him.
It’s clear that she also thinks that this is a long term process. Maybe well beyond 2021. The worry is that it will just keep on getting longer until real counselling sessions can regularly commence. But it is what it is.
Anyway back to the frozen lake. I have history here……
I bought the two of us a mini drone to play with. Hawklad struggled to fly it as he found the coordination difficult. So it was down to Top Gun Maverick to show him how it was done. The first controlled garden attempt resulted in the drone being launched like a missile and flying rapidly over our house roof. It crashed near the road, thankfully with no casualties. It’s not big or clever kids…..
So after the drone was repaired with superglue, tape and blu tack, it was ready to go again. The second flight took place in the farmers field. More controlled with a less dramatic crash landing. Only problem was that some of the farm animals took a liking to the drone. That took some retrieving. That never happened to Tom Cruise.
After several more test flights I started to really master the high speed nose dive (wings smashing off) landing. One more flight. This time higher. Quicker. Then disaster. A tight banking turn was too much for the patched up aircraft. The wing dropped off. A spectacular crash followed unfortunately not into the farmers field. A direct village lake hit. Let’s try to be cool and say I performed an ‘in the ocean’ emergency ditching. No recovery craft here. Basically I had to jump over the fence, take my trousers off and wade in. The lake is surprisingly deep. Definitely bracing…. Belly button deep and very muddy. Certainly nothing like Tom Cruise emerging from the ocean. Now you can see where they got the idea for the Monster from the Black Lagoon movie.
It’s still a little cold here. Definitely a cold start to 2021.
We have a family tradition. For the last 7 years I’ve taken Hawklad on New Years Day to Yorkshire Wildlife Park. Set off at 8am. Get there for when it opens. Spend a few hours wandering round the animals. Then grab a burger and leave before the real crowds arrive.
It’s a lovely tradition that Hawklad loves.
But life happens. Only essential journeys are recommended. Avoid out of area travel.
AND
Hawklad just isn’t in the right frame of mind to go. He is seemingly a million miles from venturing into public places.
So no Wildlife Park visit this New Years Day. So we improvised. A homemade burger and a Pepsi, just like he would have had. A hot donut replaced with a warmed up cake. Then we sat and watched a David Attenborough wildlife TV series.
Not quite the tradition but a decent replacement given what was available to us. 2021 feels like a year for making the best of it.
I think we can just about claim a white Christmas. Everywhere else is just ice and a bit of slush. But in the front garden it kind of lives on. None left in the neighbouring gardens.
So hope everyone is feeling happy, loved and valued. If not them I’m sending shed loads of hugs out.
Say that again…..
I so need to have a notebook which I carry around in my pocket at all times. Every time something is mentioned that has the slightest chance of becoming important then I could write it down. A permanent record to prompt my sieve like memory and stop those say that again moments.
Had a few too many of those over the last few days.
“Dad did you get the glazed cherries for our Christmas Eve treat?”
Say that again!!!!
“Dad did you buy the Home Alone 4 dvd for our Christmas Day movie?”
Say that again!!!!
“Dad did you phone school before they broke up to tell them that the Teams password isn’t working?”
Say that again!!!!
“Dad did you remember to make a donation to the school charity appeal last Thursday?”
Say that again!!!!
“Dad did you phone up XXXXXXX mum to get hold of their address so we can send them a card?”
Say that again!!!!
“Dad you haven’t forgotten that we are having Salmon to eat on Christmas Eve?”
Say that again!!!!
“Have we got the sausage rolls, French sticks, onion rings, pineapple rings, Doritos and mango chutney in for our Christmas Eve buffet?”
Say that again!!!!
“Dad did you remember that you said that you would send a copy of the family tree to Auntie Xxxx”
Say that again!!!!
“Dad did you remember to take the bread out of the oven. It’s been in there for most of the day and it’s looking a bit burnt.
Say that again!!!!
“Mr Xxxxxxxxx did you remember to submit form 5a. It needs to be received by the end of this month or the service will stop.
Say that again!!!!
“Ok you will need to give your dog these nasal sprays at least once a day. Will your dog sit still to let you do that.”
Say that again!!!!
This is a fine, beautiful tree. A special tree. Any tree that is shaped by lightning strikes is special. Definitely so worth walking there. Maybe even one day a lovely picnic under its branches. One day.
It’s also a completely sensible tree. Sensible is much needed some days.
I did something silly this morning. Monumentally silly. Not sensible at all.
I forgot that the delivery man had can come yesterday and dropped a small parcel into the outside metal letter box. So I went outside to retrieve the parcel. It’s a lockable letter box. So this muppet went out with the keys in hand. A sensible person would have separated the three keys for the box by now. A sensible person would then unlock the front box door and retrieve said parcel….
A sensible person certainly wouldn’t think it was much quicker to just stick his hand in the letter slot and try to rummage around until his fingers found the parcel. A sensible person must certainly wouldn’t use a hand to do that – which was still holding the only keys for the letter box. Only a monument muppet would get his hand stuck.
The only way I could pull my hand out of the slot was to let go of the keys. The only keys.
So now my hand is free but the keys have now joined the parcel at the bottom of the box. So with no keys to now unlock the box what would the sensible person do?
Unfortunately this muppet keeps coming up with plans that involve large hammers.
Oh Yorkshire. You are such a beautiful county. Ok a bit cold, wet and windy. But definitely beautiful.
Beautiful, cold, wet, windy and a tad ODD. Look at me… Ok I’m not beautiful but the other 4 things most definitely do apply.
I think the weather has a tendency to make us a little odd here. You can tell by some of the things you here. Let’s go through a few Yorkshire words which stick in my mind. There are others but many spectacularly fail the decency bar.
I remember my school teacher announcing to the class. “Tomorrow 3C you get new classmates joining you. Brother and Sister. They are called Esmeralda and Oscar. With names like that they must be from Lancashire…..”. The funny thing was that they actually were born in Lancashire. The other funny thing was that our class was called 3C, which was ironic as the school only had two classes.
I remember going on a secondary school trip to The Yorkshire Dales. As we got off the bus the Teacher went though the safety rules. No mention of the nearby cliffs, caves or army firing range. “Right you need to climb that mountain and come back here. I would normally join you but I’ve forgotten my boots so I’m going to sit with the bus driver and listen to the cricket on the radio. Don’t get lost. Don’t go further than the mountain cairn as beyond that is Lancashire. Venture in there and you will be a lost soul forever….” Lancashire is our neighbouring county. Yorkshire is on the East and Lancashire is on the West of England. Both counties have been basically hurling abuse at each other for centuries. It has descended into Civil War and bloodletting over the English Throne. Thankfully it’s just verbal abuse and a couple of annual mad cricket matches these days.
I remember hearing a tourist ask a local in York how to get to the train station. The locals response was spectacularly helpful “Well Lad I wouldn’t start from here”. He then walked off….
I was stood on a Yorkshire Train Platform when the station announcer called out the next train to arrive. She finished off with the following helpful words. “The train on platform ….. will be departing in two minutes for London and the South, my thoughts are with those passengers at this difficult time for them as they head off into the badlands. There is still time for you to change your mind.”
As a kid my next door neighbour was a bit of a character. He would sing to his Rhubard patch every day. Usually things like ‘The White Cliffs of Dover’ and ‘We will meet again’. It was an experience as he had a singing voice equivalent to a misfiring tractor engine reversing over a long line of exposed toes. Anyway one day I picked up the courage to ask him why he sang to his Rhubard. His response ‘They have feelings ya know’. Apparently he would wee on them as well. Clearly not that bothered about their feelings.
I remember my Dad often telling me that “this was the wrong type of rain for the plants”. “The rain has far too much water in it….”.
When I was at Uni I had to program a robotic arm. For a joke I decided to change all the user input instructions away from English into Yorkshire slang words. As you do! Unfortunately when I tested it for the first time eckie thump wasn’t the instruction to lower the arm cradle gentle to the table. I should have told the robot to wazzock. Eckie thump basically sent an expensive piece of robotics smashing through the table causing untold damage. Yorkshire was banned from the laboratory, probably still is.
I had been Rock Climbing in deepest Yorkshire and had popped into a remote pub for some lunch. Looking at the meat full menu I asked the Landlord if he had a vegetarian option. This clearly perplexed him. He scanned the menu board for a few moments and then asked “The best vegetarian option will be the Pork Sausages. They won’t have that much Pork in them most days….”. He did deliver as he made me one of the worlds greatest chip butties.
Final mention has to be left with out very own Yorkshire born Hawklad. He had been pestering me to take him to the KFC Restaurant. Finally I succumbed and took him. As the helpful assistant asked him what variant of southern fried chicken he would like. Hawklad responded “Have you got anything else to eat rather than chicken. I’m not keen on CHICKEN…..”.
So yes Yorkshire is most definitely ODD. But it is staggeringly beautiful.
Winter is coming.
A time for wooly jumpers, gloves and warm hats. Sliding on ice patches. Snow ball fights, sledging and snow angels. Steaming hot chocolate filled with marshmallows. Writing names of frozen car windscreens. Fires and hot water bottles. Crisp winter walks with stunning moody landscapes. Long dark night skies filled with the wonder of the cosmos. Warming soups and stews. A perfect time to cuddle close to those you love. A time to feel alive.
Winter is coming.
A cold, bleak time. When the frequent bad weather forces you inside. Cuts you off from the world. When the darkness and howling winds matches the mood. When loneliness echoes around the surrounding walls that makes your home feel like a prison. A prison where the sentence is solitary confinement. Memories filled with loss and grief send shivers down your spine. Counting the long days until Spring returns. A time to survive.
Winter is coming.
I have experienced both. I know the opportunities and the threats it can offer. Which one will this Winter be?
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 