Chaos Theory

Guard duty…

Scrap the guard duty, is that a biscuit I can smell….

I think we all have that sixth sense. Mine kicked in during the early hours. Son had just popped his head round the bedroom door.

Are you awake Dad?”

At the time I was reading about chaos theory. Got to explain my cooking disasters somehow.

I’ve got a question in my head and I can’t sleep.”

Sixth sense fully kicked in. My mind better get up to speed quickly.

It’s to do with the Royal Family and the rules surrounding the line of Succession.”

Relief as I feared a bird and the bees type question.

I’m guessing my question won’t be adequately covered in the Succession to the Crown Act”

Must admit in all my many years, I still haven’t got round to reading that real page turner.

I bet the Act doesn’t reflect the progress made in genetics, physics and quantum theory.”

No, I think that is a safe bet. Already my mind is braced for impact. A wander into his world is truly joyous but often feels like my mind isn’t quite able to take it all in. Maybe a bit like a modern and much safer version of a Psychedelic Trip.

Ok the rules on succession are quite straightforward and a lot fairer now. But what happens if we spiced it up a bit. What happens if through the advancement in genetics we managed to bring back a former King or Queen. Or maybe we develop time travel and can bring forward a previous monarch. A King or Queen who didn’t lose the throne in battle. Say Henry V or Queen Victoria. So the question is…. Would they still have a claim to the throne. Maybe it would lead to a civil war between those supporting the current monarch and those supporting Henry V or Victoria. Victoria won’t be best pleased with the current state of her empire. Henry V will be distinctly horrified at the current leadership of the country.”

And with that mind altering nugget he went back to sleep on it. Suddenly chaos theory seems so clear now.

Tree

Last night I had one of those dreams. That type of dream that leaves me breathless and unnerved for hours. Unable to sleep until after 3am then startled back into sleeplessness forty minutes later. All because I blogged briefly about throwing my knickers at Tom Jones.

I was walking across farmers fields. I was in agony as I was walking barefoot and the ground was rock hard with frost. With every step I seemed to tread on another sharp thorn. On my MP3 player was one song on repeat. Green Green Grass of Home. I was heading towards one tree. A tree on top of a small hill. The only tree on that hill. The closer I got the ground became more painful. Then the heavens opened and it started to rain increasingly hard. So hard my skin started to sting. Then I arrived at the small tree. A hangman’s noose swaying slowly in the wind.

That was clearly enough for me as I suddenly bailed out of that fun little dream.

Green Green Grass of Home was one of my mums favourite songs. You would often walk through her front door and hear Tom beautifully signing this song. The song written by Curly Putman was one of her favourite sad songs. It’s all about a man facing his last night on death row.

In the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me neath the green, green grass of home.

What’s the lesson from this nightmare.

Is it

I really should stop blogging as it gives me nightmares.

Or

Next time I do have to throw my knickers at Tom.

Dreams pesky dreams

If I was a flower I wonder what dreams I would have.

Before my partner died I would have the occasional dream that I could remember, but not that often. My sleep would be disrupted but usually by our son. Plus back then, when there are two of you can take turns on the sleepless shifts.

Then after my partner died sleep became increasingly disrupted. Son has always had an interesting sleep pattern. Whatever we have tried has never managed to change that. Eventually the health professionals just called it – it is how it is for him, it works for him, so just run with it. Basically his mind and body are too active for sleep anything south of midnight. He will usually fall asleep between midnight and 1am. Then he will sleep until 6am until his mind and body kick into active mode again. When he was younger he would constantly wake during that time, so one of us would need to be with him to get him back to sleep. But as he’s got older he more often than not sleeps through. A couple of times a week he will still wake and I get the night visits. Checking I’m still here, wanting an answer to a question or wanting to tell me a fact.

Dad Harold (that’s Harold II) was not the last english Saxon king. William beat Harold on the 14 October 1066 but wasn’t officially crowned until the 25 December. In theory Edgar Atheling (Edgar II) was king. He had the strongest blood claim to the throne. Night Dad.

But as our son’s sleep has stabilised my dream pattern has increasingly disrupted mine. It takes an age for me to get to sleep then all to quickly a vivid dream wakes me and then that’s usually it for the night – no more sleep.

The dreams have also changed. I have had three distinct dream stages. Each stage has its own unique dream type – each night its the same sort of dream.

The reliving fond memories stage. This was the nicest, yet saddest stage. The dreams would relive completely accurately lovely memories. Maybe a holiday trip, a birthday, an early date with my partner, finding out when we we’re going to be a family….

The bizarre memory stage. Then suddenly the dreams changed. They still were based on fond memories but always morphed in some bizarre way. A dream about a lovely family trip to a petting zoo, but in the dream the cute little animals were replaced by dinosaurs – we still petted them. A dream about sledging with son on one of our few proper snow days. But in the dream the white snow had become pink.

The current dream stage. The weird/unsettling dreams. No more dreams based on real life memories. Just unsettling made up dreams. Last night for example my partner (who was pregnant) and I had gone shopping in this made up out of town shopping complex. We had gone into a huge furnishing store. We found some items we needed and I went looking for a shopping trolley. Couldn’t find any trolleys inside, so I looked out in the car park. Still no trolleys. So I walked across to the next store which was a supermarket (ASDA). They had trolleys but they needed a coin to release them. None of my coins would work. I then couldn’t find our car to get more coins. So I ran down a short slip road to the next group of shops. Here the trolleys were all vandalised. I ran down another slip road to the another shop which was a huge DIY store. They had trolleys but they wouldn’t push correctly. It took all my strength to move them a few inches. Finally I found an electronics shop which had trolleys that worked. But now as hard as I tried I just couldn’t find my way back to the first store with my partner who would be getting increasingly annoyed with me. I was now completely lost and in full panic mode. Then I woke up. Now I was completely unsettled and that was it for sleep. Too tired to read or blog. So all I could manage was to watch crappy TV and listen for the clock to tick round until son woke up.

I look back with fondness at those memory dreams. Even those bizarre Dino type memory dreams. Yes they could be sad but they where a wonderful gateway into the past. But these current dreams I really hate. No sweet memories here just my brain finding new ways to unsettle my soul. Sleep is now something I desperately need, yet I struggle to do it. It is also becoming something which brings me nothing but stress. I hate being stuck in this ever decreasing sleepless circle.

Under stress

It’s March and finally most of the daffodils are just starting to emerge. Let’s hope the weather is kind to them. Sadly the early blooms didn’t last too long. Three storms in as many weeks proved too much for them. They weren’t the only thing that the storms have put under stress.

My sleeping is poor at the best of times. But with the constant wind and rain slamming into the house my sleeping has become even more erratic. It’s not good for the soul, not good for your health as it puts your body under stress. I guess watching late night channels like QVC and DAVE are unlikely to help as well.

The trampoline has a safety net surrounding it. It’s held in place by 20 strong metal clips. An inspection today discovered that 15 had snapped off. Watch out Belgium if another storm hits. I wonder what the post Brexit arrangements are for recovering British trampolines from EU territory. Maybe it’s classed as an act of war.

A trip to the DIY store in the local town became an urgent priority. Surely a multitude of cable ties would do the repair job and head off a European war. The problem was that free parking is nonexistent in the town and certainly not outside the store. But surely at 10am the infamously effective traffic warden would be still in bed or at least not on duty yet. And then sods law kicked in. Yes as I arrived at the store and guess who was stood outside with his parking ticket book poised at the ready. Unbelievable.

So it’s was plan b then. Surely the supermarket would sell DIY stuff.

Don’t be daft….

Yes the supermarket does sell DIY products and the helpful store assistant confirmed that it does normally stock cable ties. Unfortunately they have been removed to make space for Easter Eggs. The store won’t be selling them until after Easter now.

Marvellous.

The supermarket must have something to secure a trampoline. The ever helpful assistant thought for a while. The only thing they had available was a ball of strong wool. So yes I bought the wool. It was only 50p and may help prevent a war. At least until Easter is over or the traffic warden goes on holiday.

In the end I didn’t use too much of the wool up. The trampoline is a fraction more secure. A diplomatic incident is less likely and I have a ball of wool. My mum used to knit a lot until arthritis took hold. She said that it really helped with stress. So just maybe I might try that. So don’t be surprised if you find me in the early sleepless hours watching QVC and knitting. It may be good for me and I do need some new woolen mittens. It might also take my mind off the awful weather outside for a few moments. That’s a luxury those poor daffodils don’t have.

Late nights

Over the school break we were seeing what we could find with our very old telescope. With a bit of patience we got a photo of a distant power station. Took a steady hand and many out of focus disasters. I guess a lot of patience.

When I’m tired my brain has a habit of going into neutral. That’s fine if your sitting or lying down but try to do anything else and your asking for trouble. Last night at around 4am I was watching Black Panther. I decided my body needed a hot drink. So I make a fine cup of Yorkshire Tea. (That’s the tea which has got the new Chancellor of the Exchequer personal seal of approval).

The photo is from Chancellors own twitter feed.

Anyway my late night Yorkshire Tea was made. Unfortunately as I sat down to watch the movie again I realised that I hadn’t brought my cup with me. I was holding the kettle instead.

A couple of weeks back it was even more painful. I was watching a late night movie and I went for a midway toilet pit stop. On my way to the bathroom I completely missed the open door and walked into a wall.

It’s been even worse that that. About a month ago I was struggling with a leg muscle strain. During yet another late night movie the muscle started playing up. So I decided to apply some Ralgex (Heat Rub). A fine idea but in my zombie state I must have forgot to immediately wash my hands. Unfortunately I rubbed my eye and then with spectacular bad timing I decided to go for a wee. Within a few minutes my eye and my undercarriage were basically on fire. Now that woke me up.

But occasionally the late nights can yield moments of clarity. This happened last night towards the end of Black Panther. I had been spending so much time worrying about the future. All the pitfalls of homeschooling. Everything that could go wrong. How I was missing my partner and her advice. Then it struck me. The one thing I had missed was the opportunities. Homeschooling allows you freedom to design your own days. That puts US in charge. That is such an exciting and liberating prospect. And I missed it.

It’s so easy to focus on the negatives. There is an awful lot to be worried about in life. Yet it still can be a wonderful life. If you let it and have patience. So I need to find a balance. If I’m going to think about the negatives then I owe it to myself to think about the positives as well.

Zord

Zero sleep last night. Not even looking at old photos from a trip to the Peak District helped at 5am. And as all you biologists will know – zero sleep equates to zombieism. So I’ve been a full on zombie today. All zombies need a cool name, just ask Rob Zombie or Shaun of the Dead. A particularly awesome zombie was Skipper in a brilliant episode of The Penguins of Madagascar. If you want a laugh look up that one.

My first name might be fine in front of a famous Western Actors surname or in front of a great English Strikers surname or as the name of a pet in a certain underwater burger eating cartoon. But as a Zombie it is pretty lame. So we need a rebranding. Hopefully for just one day only I am Zord. Yes I watched PowerRangers.

Unfortunately Zord is a bit cranky. Zord has decided he doesn’t like August. Too many memories. Bad memories. Sad memories. The slightest thing can bring a tear. Yes zombies have an emotional dimension to them. Yet again movies like World War Z are so quick to stereotype.

Zord is a bit accident prone. Smashed a cup and broken the scissors. He’s burnt toast, crumpets and baked beans today. He even managed to set fire to a dish cloth. Zombies clearly don’t get to use an oven much. Must admit the microwave is beyond Zord as well. He initially just took the lid of the tin of beans then put the tin straight into the microwave. I think Zord fancied being the Lord of Lightening just once.

Zord has a tendency to fall asleep. That sleep where the eyes shut, the head then falls backwards and you are immediately woken by that awful head snapping sensation. So far Zord has tried that while watching TV, while trying to type up a report, while trying to sign a cheque and while on the toilet. Silly Zord.

Zord can also be a bit snappy. Unforgivably Zord has snapped a couple of times at our son. Bad Zord. But he does realise that being snappy is not a good trait so he is trying to control the snappiness. Zord finds coffee and chocolate helps. I’ve not had the heart to tell Zord that he is one of the few vegan zombies.

Let’s see what lasts longer with Zord – zombieism or veganism. Trying to be a vegan is bloody expensive. Sorry bloody and vegan shouldn’t be in the same sentence. Forgive me I am a tired parent zombie.

Pranked again

Absolutely shattered. Tank empty, operating on fumes. Sleep walking. Zonked out. Giving Zombies a bad name. Too tired to sleep. Insomnia. Whatever you call it, it’s not a good place to be. Too many of us suffer from this. So much for progress.

Last night was a decent one really in the scheme of things. Three hours sleep. But just not enough. You know it’s going to be a long day when you go to make a wake me up coffee only to find when you sit down that you had already made one only a couple minutes ago. At least back to back coffees was a nice indulgence.

Thankfully I was alone at work. Not sure I could have managed conversation and spreadsheets. Today the spreadsheets got the best of me anyway. Nothing like looking at row after row of numbers to help wake you up – NOT.

One thing is clear – my tiredness makes me a sitting duck to stupidity. Driving back from work today I picked up our son from school. Soon the tiredness really started to catch up with me. While driving I fumbled around next to me for anything sweet and sugary. Unfortunately I completely forgot that I had not yet disposed of my son’s ear plugs from Kiss. Repeating the disaster from last year I again sampled the taste delights of used earplugs.

I was that tired I didn’t initially realise the humiliation. Just chomping away, just marvellous. The first indication was the hysterical laughter coming from next to me.

I secretly hoped you would do that again. You are often so predictable. So predictable I actually cleaned them first. See I’m nice that way.

Very kind of him.

Later I took the dog for a walk. No that’s wrong. This evening the dog took me for a walk. I was definitely in autopilot mode. We ended up in a random, new field. At least it was beautiful. I could happily have crashed here for the night. Not sure the farmer would have been that impressed with the sleeping trespasser. It took me a while to figure out how to get back home.

Anyway I’m back now. Hoping for maybe 4 hours tonight. That would be nice but I’m not holding my breathe. I will take any sleep, any at all.

Not Just My Verse, Your Two Two Too

I have been tagged by Jay-lyn to participate in Rory’s Not Just My Verse.

Not Just My Verse, Your Two Two Too! Created by Rory of A Guy Called Bloke and K9 Doodlepip! Please do remember to include the ping back, otherwise l lose track of the verse and your additions, cheers.

NB: If the poem goes unanswered from a Tagged Blogger for more than three days, l will collect it back and re-tag a new writer.

Welcome to ….

Not Just My Verse, Your Two Two Too! 

I will choose a topic, write four lines of Rhyming Verse then l will tag one of my readers who will in turn add four lines of Rhyming Verse to my mine and Tag one of their own readers, and then it is a case of wash rinse repeat and let’s see how far our topic goes in so far as a Rhyme?

Once the poem [Verse] leaves my blog, the next blogger along can take it where ever they want with regards their own four line verse but always staying on topic.

Got it?

The day is as long, as the night is young,
Four more lines of verse, to make another rhyme,
What topic shall we do to have some fun..
This time?

Ooooh l know

 

Ode To The Insomniac!

Why do evade me so? It makes for no sense,
In truth, to do so unkindly and unwarranted, is nonsense!
I have tried counting all sorts, from stars to wide eyed sheep!
Yet still you , yes you decline me shut eye and valuable sleep!

Jay-lyn’s contribution

Tossing and turning pulling blankets near

What is that noise that I hear?

It is not the Sandman come for me

Why won’t you let me sleep dear?

My contribution

Countless late night biscuits and black coffee

Walking around like a spaced out zombie

Listening to Cohen and Floyd on endless loop

Convincing myself that no sleep is common in my age group.

I pass the baton hopefully to the wonderful Lorraine (Blind Wilderness)

Sleepless Change

Sometimes change goes smoothly. This beauty was happily rooted then along came a big bully in the form of a trampoline. As a result the plant was uprooted and moved. Absolutely no issues and the flowers are as stunning as ever.

Sometimes change does not go smoothly. Our son has real difficulty with change. Even the smallest change can lead to an anxiety vortex.

He has had the same bed since he was a toddler. It started way to big for him – not anymore. The dreaded day has been looming where he finally outgrows the bed. That time has now arrived. For months I’ve been warning him that he will need a new bed but he has remained steadfast in his rejection of the idea. Time for action.

While he was at school I moved his bed out. Replacing it with the spare bed. Face it the spare bed hasn’t been used in 3 years. So when he came home we had a bit of a meltdown.

Dad do you remember I helped put it together with my toy toolset.”

I so do. I can feel tears on my part forming. But he agreed to try the replacement bed for at least one night. In the end it went quite well really. The house is still here. We didn’t break the space-time continuum. On the downside sleep was a tad limited. When I say limited I mean next to nothing.

So tonight we will try again. Hoping sleep deprivation will be an Ally. If he’s not asleep by 2am I will let him sleep on the sofa. Not sure what I will do then. Probably just move his old bed back in and have a rethink.

I hate change. I hate being tired. Like most parents I hate the passing of time.

Looks don’t tell the full story.

The boy cat has six talents:

  • Getting stuck up trees, wardrobes, roofs …..,
  • Eating,
  • Opening Doors,
  • Missing his litter tray – halfway up the wall is his latest favourite,
  • Tripping people up,
  • Sleeping.

I don’t know who he is so good at sleeping. Nothing wakes him. This photo might suggest a scene of tranquility and quiet. No. Only two yards away the mad dog is going ballistic. Currently barking at 110dB as he tries to get the attention of his friends the sheep. I wish I could sleep like that.