Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 74 Comments

Day

Sun going down on another day. Another Groundhog Day.

The days are just blending together. No week day seems to stand out. I get up at the same time each day. Check the calendar to try to work out which day of the week it is (never exactly clear). Do my exercise. Take the dog out for a quick walk in the flooded farmers field. Make the same breakfast for Hawklad. Feed the pets. Check the work system – nothing. Survive the school at home gig while squeezing in as much housework as possible. Fight with Microsoft Teams to close the school day down. Prepare the evening meal (the same ones on repeat every week). Look at the clock to see it’s about 6pm. Look out the window and another day is quickly ebbing away.

On repeat.

That’s why the evening’s and weekends are so important. Need to make those work. Work better than they do currently. Too often they drift by as well. I end up going to bed thinking I survived the day rather than I LIVED the day.

Has to change.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 39 Comments

Farmer

Been far too grey and misty over the last few days. Too much winter. So let’s have a little bit of summer. Yes Yorkshire does get some of that. Sometimes.

This is one of those great footpaths. A footpath across the crop field that the local farmer dutifully maintains. Not easy to get lost of this one. I always think it would be funny if the farmer built in a maze to this path. He could get hordes of walkers lost here for hours. Could be a nice little money earner for him. Send his sheepdogs in to rescue the walkers for a small fee.

In that photo if you keep going straight. Climb the hill. Keep going straight and in about 10 minutes you will crash into our overgrown garden. You could get seriously lost in there.

I feel a little lost today. I think many of us are. A little tired of Groundhog Day. Bored with 2020. Hours , days, weeks and months seemingly merging into each other. Having to constantly look at the date on my mobile and then check the calendar to work out where I am. Is it a Sunday? Not sure.

But there is always hope.

This time will pass. Directions will be rediscovered again. The farmer will work on his lovely straight path again.