Lines

Remind me not to fly my kite here.

It’s Christmas. Hawklad is happy. Very happy with his presents so far. Amazed that his Dad hasn’t messed up yet. Well apart from his new FIFA computer game seems to come wrapped with a free pair of scissors. I wondered where they disappeared to. Thankfully he has given me them back.

It’s an odd house these days. Probably something to do with it being completely MALE. Two humans, a dog, a cat, gerbils – all with an X and Y chromosome. That explains so much.

Maybe it explains one strange Christmas tradition. Hawklad has had that Santa conversation. So why do we still put out mince pies and a drink for Santa. A large pile of carrots for the reindeer’s. We even still draw lines on bits of paper pointing the big red fella to the location of the feast.

Maybe it’s time for someone to have that Santa conversation with ME…..

White Christmas

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. ❤️

Plague Island

So that’s the shopping done for the week. We are now officially closed for Christmas. Time to get behind our fence and shut the world out for 7 days. Or longer if we are plunged into a Tier 4 lockdown (more of the country will go that way on Boxing Day apparently).

So it’s Christmas Eve on Plague Island. It’s not entirely sure if its a virus related Plague or a Plague of self absorbed, imbecilic, on the take, cretins apparently running this country.

We have enough food and drink to last us weeks. We have enough options to cobble together a couple of special holiday meals for two. Certainly not Plan A or B food options, but the C menu will be just fine. Actually with my Thanos like cooking skills at the click of the fingers any food taste can be suddenly turned to dust. So it really doesn’t matter in the end.

A few days of being an island cut adrift from the world has started to take its toll. Hardly any fresh fruit or veg in the store. The stuff which is still there is getting snapped up instantly. No chocolate ice cream. I will say that again. No chocolate ice cream. Oh the humanity….

But in the scheme of things. We are so fortunate. Too many are not so lucky.

So we are lucky to be on the right side of our fence. Hawklad is definitely not on Santa’s naughty list. Me – I’m not so sure. Yes the weather is horrible but actually if you close your eyes, the sun will still shine.

Yes it’s alright in this side of the fence, living on Plague Island.

Cinema

It’s that time of year. A definite feel to the movies we have watched. Can you see the theme.

Scrooged

Home Alone 1, 2, 3, 5

The Grinch

A Christmas Carol

Muppets Christmas Carol

The Santa Clause 1,2,3

Elf

National Lampoons Christmas Vacation

The Polar Express.

For me I just can’t quite catch the connection. Sure there must be one if I look hard enough.

One of the things that feels amiss this most odd year (that doesn’t work as 2020 is even) is the cinema experience. Before Hawklad we would always have a Christmas trip to the pictures (as my mum would have said). A meal before hand and then a movie. Such a lovely experience. So many wonderful memories.

Taking my mum to see The Horse Whisperer on Boxing Day. She hadn’t been to the pictures in 40 years. She was most puzzled not to watch the Pathe News segment before the movie. She refused to get up at the end and waited until the credits played through. Apparently she was waiting for the National Anthem to be played…

Trips with my partner to see huge blockbusters on Christmas Eve like the Lord of the Rings Movies. Then coming out in time to sing carols in the city centre.

Even after the world changed Hawklad and I kept the tradition going. A changed Aspergers tradition. We would take in the first, early morning screenings of movies like Jumanji and the Rise of Skywalker. Popcorn at 8am works on so many levels. Then we would go and get him his favourite takeout. All before midday.

But this year it’s no cinema. Any trip is just so out of reach for Hawklad and his anxieties. The world has changed. Even the prospect of Wonder Woman and Black Widow epics won’t overcome those fears. Maybe the trips to the Pictures have stopped for good. We will just have to see what the future holds but life goes on. It’s time to recreate that Christmas tradition at home. So we will pick a movie. A good movie. Set the dvd off at 8am. Microwaved popcorn in plentiful supply. The Christmas Cinema tradition continues.

Fence

Which side of the fence is best?

I had a call with Hawklads new health specialist. She will (pesky pandemic dependent) come out to see him for the first time in January. Continuity is so important for someone on the spectrum. It takes time to earn trust and confidence. Those bridges when they come down are slow to be rebuilt. Having had a wonderful health lead for three years we are now in a spell of meet one, quickly see one disappear. Fingers crossed this time.

It’s clear what the medical opinion still is. Any meaningful progress is extremely unlikely until this virus is well under control. When it’s clear that the vaccine which has been administered works effectively and does protect. Only then can any progress be realistically contemplated. Prepare to bunker down for 2021. 2022 might be the first gateway to a more open life for our little family. I also have to accept the risk that progress does not happen for Hawklad. Bridges are not built. This is the new world.

I remain clear. It’s Hawklads life. He makes the call. I will support which ever route he goes down.

So will he return to school in January? Most likely NO. Will he make it back before the end of the school year in July. Probably NO. Will he start the new school year in September. Definitely no guarantee.

It feels like we are in one side of a fence. The side that feels limited but safe. The other side of the fence opens up the world, broadens his horizons but…….

Say that again

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!!!!

Sensible person

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.

Another day

Another day and yet more mist.

It’s been one of those days when apart from Hawklad, I haven’t seen another member of my species. Not one person walking the fields. No one walking in the village. Not one soul. In fact I haven’t even see one moving car. With the mist no chance to see aeroplanes. Nothing. No sign of human life. Its officially a GHOST TOWN. Time to FROWN…

Well Ghost Village. Time to PILLAGE. That maybe is my Viking ancestry.

The only other option entering my frazzled mind is. Living in a Ghost Village. Better listen to some Steve Hillage. I once had one of his albums.

Anyway you get the picture. ISOLATION.

Definitely the perfect metaphor for 2020. ISOLATION and learning to really appreciate what I have. It’s definitely been a defining year. Sadly the year has done nothing for my poetry skills….

Hanging on

Sometimes you just have to hang on. Just one leaf hanging on in a sea of wood. All alone. Looking at all the fallen brethren on the ground, now very brown and shrivelled. Feeling a little left out. Forgotten about. How long can it hang there for.

Somedays it does feel that way to me. Just hanging on. Trying to survive.

But just like this little green bit of life – IT CAN BE DONE. It is possible to survive against the odds. Even when the odds are seemingly stacked against you, there is always hope. If you look hard enough there will be a connection, something to cling on to. Something to keep you going. Something so precious to you.

Yes I can do this. Yes you can do this.

Odd

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.