Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 102 Comments

Cows

The grass cutters have finally arrived. Always a great watch. Even the cows seem to be practicing a bit of social distancing.

“Dad did I hear that right we have a track and trace policy going now.”

Yes, after abandoning it in March (as it was deemed to be pointless by the Government) they have now decided it’s a good idea. They have apparently employed 25000 people to do the tracing. Unfortunately the software still doesn’t work.

“We don’t believe that number do we.”

No Son we don’t. It’s just lie after lie now.

“Apparently it’s cool to go on the beaches now. Maybe they have decided the virus doesn’t like sand and donkeys.”

Sniggering. Yes that might be the case. Since last weekend many of our beaches have been crammed full with tourists. Basically people started ignoring what the government was wittering on about. If it’s ok for the Governments Top Man then it’s ok for us. They have lost control. Now the so called PM is saying it’s official policy to get the beach towels out as so many were doing it anyway. ”

“The science has stopped being used.”

Yep Son it’s gone out of the window.

“So if someone goes onto a beach with the virus. Extremely likely given the numbers still with it. Then those trackers are supposed to find who is now at risk.”

That’s the plan. Basically the conversation will go something like this.

  • So you have tested positive, we need to trace who you came into contact with?
  • I went to the beach, used the toilet, rode on the donkeys, queued for chips and went into a shop to buy ice cream.
  • Who did you come into contact with?
  • Thousands of strangers. Best of luck tracing them….

“Well Dad at least the donkeys can be traced.”

Don’t forget the seagulls who pinched the chips.

“You know what Dad. Let’s give the beach a miss for 2020.”

Can’t really blame him….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 45 Comments

Other worlds 2

There was a time when my mobile phone was only used for making phone calls. The phone call function now seems to be an optional extra. It’s now basically my camera, runs the house and sons Pokemon world generator….

As the great Terry Pratchett once said

Always be wary of any helpful item which weighs less than it’s operating manual.

As ever Terry in his hilarious fantasy worlds got life better than many so called modern philosophers. And while we let that thought hang in the air, let’s move onto the last Thursday challenge for a while. Yes people you will be safe from my terrible poetry for a number of months. But as Terry P also aptly pointed out

It’s not worth doing something unless you were doing something that someone, somewhere, would much rather you weren’t doing.

So it’s time for Chelsea Owens last challenge for a few months and my poetry….. Chelsea is taking a much earned blogging break over the Summer. This week’s challenge is about writing your very worst poem possible. Bonus points for squeezing in Douglas Adams like Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy references. Truly awful poems need to forwarded to Chelsea by 8.00am MDT on the 29th. As a Yorkshire lad I have no idea what MDT means – but it does sound kinda cool. Maybe something like Mindless Donald Tweets.

This poem might not mean too much if you have never read the great Douglas Adams books or have not had to endure the UK governments truly disgraceful lies (on a different scale over the last few days). To cut a long story short our PM is not in charge. That honour goes to a bloke called Cummings who is unelected but seems to have plenty of dirt on enough people to make him important. The country followed strict lockdown rules with the police taking action action rule breakers. We were told the rules were not requests, they were mandatory instructions. Stay at home or people will die. Senior People have been forced to resign for breaking them. Well apparently the rules didn’t apply to Cummings. He travelled 250 miles from his home to his parents (also a no no). This was when he and his wife had symptoms. Let’s just hope they didn’t need fuel…. He then decided to apparently test his eyesight by driving his wife on her birthday and with young son and dogs in the back of the car, 60 miles to a tourist site (Barnard Castle). Now this has been discovered the public are what is the phrase I’m looking for – pissed off. But now the government is saying that Cummings acted as any parent should do. So absolutely no action should be taken against him. In fact he’s a great citizen and parent according to Hancock (Health Minister). Basically all the parents who stayed at home and followed the lockdown instructions were stupid mugs.

*************

Douglas Adams wrote of other worlds and evil races like the Vogons

He didn’t need to lie and cheat, no need to come up with patronising slogans

Now we have our very own new fantasy story authors

Cummings, Hancock and Boris, the UKs evil lying rotters

They inspire as much hope as Marvin the Paranoid Android

And are as pleasant as a hot curry to someone with a hemorrhoid

They only look after themselves, just like two headed Zaphod Beeblebrox

They gorge on the finest food while the peasants are expected to stay in detox

We all thought the answer to life was forty two

Well apparently not, that answer was a load of poo

The answer to everything is now apparently the tourist site called Barnard Castle

We are instructed to lockdown but for Cummings that is far too much hassle

If you are Cummings you can test your eyesight by driving your kid 60 miles

Just a coincidence it’s your wife’s birthday, ignoring restrictions with many smiles

Now that’s apparently Ok as it Cummings says his little poodle called Hancock

A man so stupid he’s turned this country into nothing more than a laughingstock

So thank you Douglas for writing some of the funniest stories ever told

And thank you those who voted for Boris, a man as useful as the common cold

***********

*** This is version two. The cleaned up version. It’s amazing what words you can find to rhyme with words like luck, fit and flanker…. ***

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 80 Comments

Battered Rose

This rose bush was here when we first moved in. So it’s at least 18 years old. Given the state of it even then, I suspect it’s been here much, much longer. The changes it has seen over those years. Some good, some bad, some happy, some sad. It’s in a really annoying place. Right next to the front door. Constant pruning required to stop your arms and legs getting lacerated just trying to get into your own home. I dread to think how many times it’s been smashed and broken by washing machine and furniture deliveries. It’s regularly attacked by the local wildlife and pets. So yes it’s had a challenging life.

Yes it’s a tad battered. The roses are never perfect these days. Always a little worn at the edges. The foliage is getting a little thin in places. But it’s still here. Just like we are. I can’t speak for you but in my case I am so like this bush. A bit old. The body has taken one too many hits. Definitely battered and a little frayed round the edges. You could even argue that I’m starting to take root. But currently I am still here. Still trying to live. I will give thanks for that.

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No Rose Show yet

No jokes today. No script. Let’s just see where this takes me.

It’s the very early hours. It’s my partners birthday. Once I’ve finished I will close the iPad for today and hopefully I will see you tomorrow.

These are strange times for all of us. But to be fair it’s been a strange time for our little family since 2016. That’s the year the world stopped and changed for us forever. Those six weeks from hell. We lost my mum and our Son’s beloved little nan on the first day of that period. That day started as a fun birthday for me and finished in heartache. Almost straight after the funeral my partner wasn’t feeling great and went into hospital overnight for routine tests. The next day having come to pick her up, I was taken to one side by the Doctor to tell me that things where bleak. She only had a 5% chance of surviving the month. Zero chance of making it to Christmas. She was deteriorating rapidly and she wasn’t really conscious. The following conversation with an 8 year old will haunt me forever.

She never fully regained consciousness. We had no more conversations. I can’t even remember the last one we had. Three weeks later I was telling the 8 year old his mum was dead. 2016 and those six weeks from hell.

This day in 2016 I had just given my partner a plant, a Yorkshire White Rose. She had always wanted one. I wish I had bought it so many years earlier so she could have enjoyed it. Since then it has always bloomed in time for her birthday. Not this year. The bad winter has set things back. It’s a few weeks behind schedule. But it will get there. It’s a hardy soul. It feels like one of the few life bridges which didn’t break in 2016. A link to a world now gone but certainly not forgotten.

So now I will focus on our Son. Yes there might be a few tears but hopefully if I do my job right then there will also be smiles. Let’s be thankful for those wonderful times. Let’s remember those other times when the world changed. Changed for the better. Our first date. Our first night in the new house. Finding out those pregnancy results. Holding our baby. Our first family family holiday.

Wonderful, loving times.

So that’s it. Take care and remember that this is still a wonderful world. No more words today. See you tomorrow.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 72 Comments

Gluten and dairy

Sorry having to milk the red flowers. They don’t last long and then that’s it for another year. Sadly shopping comes round much more frequently.

Another weekend shopping experience to be quickly forgotten. Yes we are always thankful to get some stuff. Things like bathroom rolls (toilet paper) and soap are getting easier to find. Finally some popcorn. Ok it’s just salty but we can add honey to it. But then the inner grump comes out in me.

So many items we take for granted are now becoming a luxury. The words out of stock, no alternatives, unavailable are becoming such a frequent part of the wonderful shopping experience. In terms of our Son it applies to a number of his favourites

  • Tomato ketchup (has to be Heinz)
  • Pasta
  • Skinless sausages
  • Baguettes
  • Tortilla wraps
  • Mini fairy cakes
  • Tinned carrots
  • Corn on the cob.

For me it’s the gluten free and IBS friendly alternatives. Yesterday I drew a complete blank. Yes you could get a few glutenless meat sausages and a couple of soya based meal options. Not great when you are trying to be a veggie and soya blows you up like a balloon. No dairy free milk option except Soya. Not one single gluten free bread based option. Looks like I’m trying to bake my own again – the last one ended up painted and used as Jurassic World play island… Yes we got some jacket potatoes but they look like they have just been used as projectiles in the latest Highland Games, then sent to the army range for target practice.

So unless I can find some super expensive options on Amazon then this weeks meal options will be another challenge. I’m ok, I can just walk around looking permanently pregnant thanks to my inflamed IBS. It’s more of a challenge for our Son with his set eating patterns. Moving from them causes so much anxiety for him.

“Dad I’ve got an idea. Let’s just have a week eating crisps and chocolate. Wash it down with full sugar coke. Not good for us but at least it will be fun.”

I’m so into this idea. Yes I will end up very round. Having a body that looks like the perfect figure. A 6. But is that not a better option than looking pregnant from dairy and soya intake. Decision made. Where’s that family sized packet of potato crisps.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 41 Comments

It’s almost time….

The wonderful Mel has come up with this flyer for something you won’t want to miss which is happening in July.. Soon the fun will start all over again…..

You are invited!

18/19th July 2020

Last year Gary the creator of A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent, had an amazing idea. Gary said, “Why don’t we have a bloggers’ bake-off?” Melody the creator of Caramel (Learner at love), thought that was a fantastic idea so started planning with Gary. We asked the spectacular kitchen guru and baking legend Jeanne, the creator of A Jeanne in the Kitchen, to be our celebrity judge…and voila!

The 2019 GREAT BLOGGERS’ BAKE-OFF was an amazing blogging event. We loved every moment of it and were thrilled with the response from other bloggers. We have been looking forward to the 2020 BLOGGERS’ BAKE-OFF ever since.

However…this year many bloggers have reported challenges in obtaining baking essentials such as flour, eggs and baking powder. Do not despair! You will be delighted to hear that as well as the BAKE-OFF for all who are able to bake this year, we are also hosting a virtual summer picnic on WordPress.

That means that as well as the baking contest, there will be an international virtual picnic and we are asking all of you to bring something along! More details to come!!! Oh we are so excited!

Cue the annoying picnic song!!!

https://youtu.be/jrliJnmYomI

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Finding Popcorn

The very observant amongst you will notice a plant pot which looks remarkably like a drum from a tumble drier. Best and safest use for those which had a habit of catching fire. Ours did get modified to make it less likely to explode (after many months of waiting) then promptly died one day after the new warranty period ran out. So better get some use out of it. So we acquired a large metal plant pot.

Some things are more challenging to find and acquire.

Things like Popcorn. It’s a staple part of our Saturday Night Home Movie Experience. Well it has been until now. At the moment it is like gold dust at the supermarket which is our only real pandemic option. For two weeks it’s been sold out. Maybe it’s become the new currency of the survivalists. Replacing bathroom paper (toilet paper). As a result I suddenly have a real urge to go popcorn hunting. Must be able to find some popcorn somewhere. Must have a rummage.

Another challenge which is far less enticing and attractive is the prospect of trying to get our son to venture past the front gate. So far the tentative attempts have failed. Even just venturing onto the road, just a few paces from the front gate is proving a challenge for him. This won’t be just isolated to this family. So many others will be in a similar position. Trying to deal with these issues largely without any help. Our leader of the opposition party has been pushing the need to address the mental health consequences of the last few months. Sadly our government doesn’t seem to get it. The response seems to be well we have released the lockdown, just go out and act normally. Unfortunately that response is typical of the last 10 years. Mental Health funding has been one of the easy targets for government cutbacks. This has led to untenable waiting lists for some essential children services and worse. Many parts of children and adult support have just disappeared. You can just see the likes of Johnson and Hancock smirking while telling us

If you have the money then you can buy help, if you can’t then tough. It’s your fault for not having massive bank accounts. Let’s think of the real issue. How can we get our hands on the profits from a switch to a US type health care system.

So we will keep trying to take those little steps. Trying to raise awareness of this issue. This is going to be a long and very winding road. Importantly it’s a road which will be driven by our son. He will decide when and where to take those steps. He has to find his own way and be comfortable with it. Today he won’t be going down that road. That’s for another day.

So I will go back to dreaming about popcorn hunting.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 46 Comments

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.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 75 Comments

Over my head

One of the advantages of not cutting the hedge. A bit of overhead yellow is always very nice.

“Dad this is just going over my head.”

He wasn’t referring to the hedge as well…

“This is refusing to enter my brain. Sometimes dyslexia is a right pain in the butt….”

He was referring to French. In particular today’s lesson. All about grammatical gender. It’s not an easy concept for English speaking numpties like me as we don’t tend to get so focused on gender and nouns. Which is most odd as our language is heavily derived from Anglo-Saxon and French, which are. So you can hear my brain chug away when it sees

A simple word like HAPPY become in French either HEUREUX (masculine) or HEUREUSE (feminine).

Hard for me, a nightmare for a dyslexic. So a lesson of writing these out for an hour is just torture for him. Yes you can try and learn the rules. But when you struggle to pick up word and letter patterns – it’s not much help.

“Hey Dad I’m dyslexic in multiple languages. Surely I get a badge for that.”

We should really be switching dyslexic kids to different learning techniques. Maybe focusing just on visual and verbal learning. Using fun, online teaching resources. Finding out what works and what doesn’t work for each industry child. Unfortunately teachers are given so little flexibility by our Government. They have to stick to the national curriculum. Sadly the factory education approach doesn’t work for many. So we try to make the best of it. But it’s not easy seeing your child struggle.

It feels like you are holding onto the side of a giant bolder as it tumbles down a hill. Not in control and just grimly trying not to fall off. But eventually you reach the bottom. You can take a breather before you start tumbling again. I guess the secret is to make the most of the flat bits. Grab that ice cream and think of ways to make the tumbling down hill more fun. Must be possible. Remember being a kid and rolling down the slopes. As long as you avoided the nettles and animal droppings, it was the best laugh ever. So we will put our thinking hats on, how to make learning French fun.

Bonne journee (yes I know I’ve dropped a mark for the missing thingy off the e, but my keyboard doesn’t do French)….

Please note one of my great regrets is that I’m not multilingual. I love talking to people who can effortlessly switch languages. So I will keep going. You never know, one day…

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 69 Comments

What does it teach us

“Dad I’m seeing either a new element which will make up the next Ironman reactor or a distant multiverse….”

Strangely I was thinking

Better pull the little blighter up, that’s where the tomatoes are going…..

It’s all about different perspectives. That’s reflected in two conversations I’ve had with teachers today. Same child, two different teachers, two different takes.

  • He’s been doing so well. Worked his socks off. Have to find ways to allow him to shine. Need to try and get him into much higher teaching group.
  • Bottom set is his level. He does struggle with the basics of reading and writing.

Again let’s not forget, teachers are humans and it’s down to individual perspectives. You agree with some you don’t with others. But they are human.

Our current Government and media fail to recognise that human element. For the last few days teachers have been demonised. Their crime being to raise safety concerns about the proposal to reopen parts of the school system. They have been branded cowards, lazy, lefties, traitors. The nurses have risked their life’s so the teachers should pull their weight and get back into schools. Those making these comments are currently working from the safety of their own living rooms. It’s so easy to attack people, to ask others to accept risk when you are bunkered down in your little safe area. To call for sacrifices from the comfort of your armchair. Tell you what why don’t we do something. Before we send teachers and young kids back to school why don’t those demanding these sacrifices volunteer to work in a care setting for a week. Until they are prepared to do this then they should crawl back quietly into their nest of vipers. Leave sorting this mess out to those who will treat people as humans. Understand them, support them, be honest with them, work with them.