My poor bed duvet. Caught outside TWICE in the pouring rain. But finally after hours propped over a full on radiator, it was dry. With my adopted manly themed duvet cover back on – Hawklads old Peppa Pig one – the bed was made up. All neat and tidy.
A couple of hours later I head for bed to find.
Some hooligan had decided to move my clean duvet onto the floor and create his own perfect bed.
Look at that face. He wins. That’s another night in the sleeping bag for me…
Are there any countries out there who would like a new citizen. I don’t take up much space, I’m happy to learn the language, sing the new national anthem and I’m house trained.
I’m sat here quite prepared to renounce my British citizenship. Clearly I don’t fit anymore. I don’t seem to fit in with the expected thinking.
Approval for the Government is at an all time high. On the back of a vaccination programme which was one of the few things they decided to leave entirely up to the public sector experts to sort out and deliver. Just don’t mention the fiasco of the privatised Track and Trace system which has now custom £37B. A country where many people turn a blind eye to the daily top level corruption which the Government don’t even bother hiding now. Where you are expected to ignore the court rulings that have found the Government is acting illegally. Shrug off the criminal negligence that has been our response to the pandemic costing thousands and thousands their life’s. Smiling at the empty food shelves and rising costs from the Brexit car crash. Preferring to moan about a bit of royal fall out rather than focus on the Government spending over £300k of tax payers money to pay off a bullying allegation against the Home Secretary. Seemingly ok with giving the wonderful NHS staff a miserly 1% pay increase while it hands out billions in dodgy contracts to party backers and personal friends. Believing that we are all in this together while the PM seeks rich charity funds to pay for a £200000 makeover of his flat.
As I’m not OK with this maybe it is time for me to pack my bags. The question is where do I go. Before Brexit I had the option of moving to any country in the EU. But now that right has been removed as clearly a loss of personal freedoms is seen as progress….
So where are the countries that I should move to. The ones that still have a moral compass. The ones you can be proud of. Sadly that is not Britain.
Running on empty last couple of days. Even the simple tasks are becoming complex. You know you are in for along day when you nod off during the first school at home lesson. The lights went out midway through a sentence explaining Factor Trees to Hawklad. All before 10am.
Here’s the ultimate irony. A tired muppet Dad who wasn’t even trusted to keep the score in Pub Darts matches now trying to explain maths to a kid who has just got 38 out of 40 in his term mathematics test. Talk about feeling out of my depth.
Which is how I feel when I venture into the world of poetry. Yes I’m sorry it’s that time again. Head to the panic rooms my friends. It’s poetry..
It’s poetry Jim but not as we know it…..
It’s really Terrible Poetry time. Time to have a go at Chelsea Owens Mused Poetry challenge.
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Phew! After last month‘s hilarious entries, I had a bit of trouble thinking of what our next venture should be. What to do, what to do…
Let’s try an oldie but a goodie: A Funny Love Poem Inside a Greeting Card.
Most greeting cards can’t hold a ballad, so a few stanzas ought to do us for the Length.
I’d recommend rhyming. I mean, you are serious about this love interest, aren’t you?
Yes, this is love (or something like unto it) but the Rating‘s PG or cleaner. After all, some kid might stumble across your offering while trying out all the musical cards.
Only in stories do lovers say all the right words, remember every birthday and anniversary, and get just the right present. We are not writing a story, here, we’re writing a humorous poem. As such, make us laugh. Laughter’s the best way to a person’s heart; right?
And, as a side note, whoever said this was a card expressing love to a person? What if you’re more fond of a juicy cheeseburger? Just a thought…
You have till 10:00 a.m. MST next MONTH (March 5) to submit a poem.
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When you lie in double bed all alone
Experiencing a completely love free zone
Feeling like a discarded out of tune trombone
Your only company is a smelly dog and farting cat
Feeling as popular as flea ridden rabid fat wombat
But maybe today that Hallmark card will land on your mat
Bringing much needed kisses and expressions of affection
Offering a few sweet moments of romantic misdirection
Which is always better than a bad case of fungal infection…..
The National Autistic Society has carried out research on the reality of adults living with autism spectrum disorders. It’s a sobering read.
I just want to highlight some specific lines in the report.
49% of adults with autism or Asperger syndrome are still living at home with their parents. 65% of these adults have had no community care assess- ments and are therefore unlikely to be known to the statutory agencies who should be supporting them.
31% of adults at the lower end of the autism spectrum are still being cared for at home, despite their high level needs. 45% of parents believed their son or daughter required 24-hour care, and only 15% thought they could live in sheltered or shared accommodation.
Only 3% of adults at the higher end of the autism spectrum are living fully independently, and a further 8% are living independently with some regular professional or family support.
As the report points out Families are picking up the care responsibilities in the UK associated with autism. Repeated Government’s have buried their heads in the sand. The current government unbelievably has probably set the bar even lower.
Like many families around the UK (and worldwide) my thoughts are increasingly focusing on the future. What will happen to Hawklad as an adult in our society which is so badly setup for those on the spectrum. Let’s just say that its currently not an entirely reassuring feeling I have. Yes I’m worried.
The sun goes down on another school at home day. It was one of those days where it feels like for every step forward we took two giant steps back. Such hard work.the really frustrating thing is that it wasn’t the actual learning which was the issue today. No the frustrations came from repeated system crashes, missing content, confusing instructions, formatting disasters and online tests that will only work with exactly the right spelling and format.
We can make home schooling so much easier for the pupils than this…
So with the frustrations still ringing in my head another school communication arrived. All about the required Covid testing to support the schools reopening next week. Each family will be required to self test families using the rapid result kits TWICE a week. On top of that all pupils will be tested with the same kits once a week in school.
My one question is that if our schools are completely safe and not hubs for virus transfer (according to our PM) – why is this level of testing required…..
The school letter also apologised to parents for the confusing over masks in the classroom. A few days ago the PM told schools that masks had to be worn in the classroom. Our school wrote to parents to inform them of the new rule. Unfortunately the rule has now changed again. The PM has now said they are only recommended and school can’t enforce them.
More frustrations……
A Monday morning. A school at home Monday morning. Don’t you just love them….
“Dad have you got your thinking hat on yet….”
Do I ever have my thinking hat on
“Not really Dad but it’s another view on a tough question”
Ok I will make a hit drink and prepare myself…
Ok I’m braced now. Hit me with the question.
“How do you spell Trigonometry?”
Oh is that it. Wow I thought it as going to be a shocker. I’m almost happy. I can Cole with that. Life is good. Hang on why are you giggling….
“That’s not the question, thought I’d trick you”
Pants. You got me there. Ok what’s the real question.
“Its Religious Education. I have to discuss sexuality and homosexuality. What are the various religious views and discuss.”
Wow…
“Dad I think you would call that a 3 coffee question.”
It’s definitely is and it’s definitely not a question for an early Monday morning.
Well after many many weeks its gone. Our own lake in the farmers field has finally gone. We’ve had many of these lakes in our time here but not one this big or so long lasting. It’s provided many photo opportunities and we have grown very fond of it.
It will be back. Hopefully not during the next few months. If I does then Spring and Summer have been monumentally bad.
Until next to our unnamed lake, enjoy the rest.
Look at this. The first daffodil. It’s always such a lift when they appear. The return of a bit of warm colour. Much needed. Can we now officially call it SPRING. For what it’s worth a quick and very unscientific check of the photos is telling me that they have arrived one day earlier than last year.
If only WP was that reliable. Scheduled posts not working. Finding it harder to post comments that actually appear. Random unfollows. Likes not working. Photos refusing to publish. Messed up editing. Yep I think the WP IOS app has beaten me. Need to get myself a better laptop and switch to the web based option. See if it works better with Windows.
But until then we will soldier on. Do what I can. Don’t get too worked up if it refuses to work properly. There a great quote from The Book of Joy. A quote which has Buddhist traditions but was also told to me bizarrely by a cricket coach who was talking about getting out of a bad run of batting form. Basically it says….. Pointless worrying about what you can’t control and why are you worrying about stuff you can control.
Ok let’s try to remember that. Forget WP and my troubles. Think about the things in my life that lift me up and that I love. That will help push the negative thoughts away for some precious moments.
We can do this.
I don’t know why but as soon as I saw our morning sky I immediately thought of two opposing medieval armies preparing for battle. Just waiting for the mist to lift before they crash into each other.
Our area has had so many bloody battles dating back to Viking times. Who is to say that these very fields have not witnessed that grim sight.
Today’s grim sight was restricted to this unshaven, unkempt Bloke with zero fashion sense leaning against the fence. Coffee cup in hand, exposing his partly covered hairy legs to potentially the ghosts of the past. I guess in years gone by I would have opted for the kilt look. Need to get the air onto those ‘airy knees.
Mist is an apt way of describing my current thinking this morning. After a year of lockdown (now just two weeks short of that anniversary), I still can’t see the way forward. No nearer establishing when (or if) Hawklad will feel able to return to the outside world. Is it school or permanent homeschooling. Will my job survive. When will be our next holiday or excursion. Are my dreams on hold or permanently cancelled. Will I ever get to where my heart desperately wants to go. Is that it for concerts or football for us. When will we see friends and family. Is that it for hugs. Is the world still out there. Has anyone even noticed that we aren’t part of the crowds anymore.
A pandemic year and I still can’t answer those questions.
Mind and hope mist.
That is not a great feel.
It looks like Yorkshire. It feels like Yorkshire. Its moody, dark, windy and cold. It is Yorkshire. Some places are perfect for growing olives, oranges, pineapples and coconuts. The climate in some places are just perfect for fantastic wine. Here in Yorkshire the climate is perfect for Rhubard…..says it all doesn’t it.
How difficult can a Science test be.
The answer – a nightmare.
40 minutes to complete 20 questions. Sounds easy. Questions about Pressure, Force, Springs and Moments. Not easy for Hawklad but seemed to get there. Worked stuff out in his head. But that’s only part the story. The real story is trying to get the answers to the teacher. He can answer the questions in his head but then struggles to record them. It’s such an effort to type or write for him that he losses the answers he has in his mind. He can confuse himself or just forget. Even trying to write and type as he goes along doesn’t work, it seems to disrupt his thinking. Ends up going round in circles.
The other option is a scribe. But talking out aloud makes him nervous and makes it harder for him to answer correctly. Often what he describes is different to the answer he has visualised.
How frustrating must that be.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 