Old moon

A couple of full moon photos from last week. My poor old iPhone tries it’s best.

I remember looking up at the moon. I was lying on my back on the cold patio trying to keep still and give the camera phone a chance of trying to focus. Anyway I was looking up at the moon and thinking it was stunning. I really hoped that my partner could be seeing this as well. Maybe she was? Was she seeing it from a different angle? Was she looking up at it from one of her favourite places. Was she above the clouds?

These days I frequently look at things in a different way. For a long time after my partner died I felt bad about looking at beautiful things. Sunsets, landscapes, the Sea, our Son playing. It just wasn’t right that I could and my partner was missing out. She had been cruelly denied this chance. Her time ran out.

But slowly that feeling of guilt started to ebb.

Now when I look at beautiful things, I try to look that little bit harder. Look for just a few moments longer. Truly embrace the moment. Because now I’m looking for the BOTH of us.

Back to the moon. After a few minutes I was becoming distinctly uncomfortable. My back is not designed these days for lying on a cold, hard surfaces. Then a thought. What was I thinking about. My partner was the sensible one. She would be sat inside. Occasionally shouting “that’s very nice Dear”. She would not be outside freezing her butt off. She would be warm inside with a glass of something, watching one of her favourite movies.

That’s a view she would be happy with.

Food

Now we are into the aftermath of the Easter Egg hunt. Son is happily piling on the calories and his Dad is looking at a bowl of dairy free cornflakes. Is this what my life has been building to…..

To be fair that calorie balance is right. Son tends to be very long and always below the median weight for his height. That is tall and slim. His Paediatrician told him that it was a great excuse never to diet. His Dad is average height (or to be strictly true – 0.5 cm above average) and keeping to an ideal weight is a bit of a struggle. That is big boned.

Son’s diet has been a struggle recently. Aspergers likes order and routine. We stick to the same 7 day food rota every week. To be fair it’s a reasonable diet with much fruit and vegetables. And many sausages…… But over the last few weeks many of his foods of choice have become unavailable. This has required change and change means STRESS. On top of the enforced food switches an increased fear of becoming ill has surfaced. So now he is desperate to eat healthy and avoid too many calories.

So the parents dilemma is trying to put that into a routine which is both sustainable and is actually a balanced, healthy diet for him. That’s at a time when fresh fruit and vegetables are often much harder to source. So keeping the calorie intake sufficient going forward might be a serious challenge. He has already started to refuse foods he considers unhealthy. He’s even started to question his chocolate intake. As the paediatrician explained a couple of years back

his weight is right at the bottom of the perfect band, but don’t let it drop below that. If that means a few more bars of chocolate than usual then that’s just fine. But just watch him. We really don’t won’t to go down the line leading to eating disorder.

Eating Disorders within the Autistic community is a significant issue. Research into eating disorders such as anorexia have found that anywhere between 15% to 35% of total cases can be linked to people on the autism spectrum. However food disorder health care is still largely done in isolation from autism specialists. Autistic services continue to be squeezed as a result of government policy priorities. So improved care and support for autistics with food disorders is unlikely to improve under the current UK government.

This may well be the latest challenge our son has to face down. So long may he tuck into his chocolate egg.

Return or not

WARNING: This is a covid related post… it may contain grotesque examples of confusion.

This friendly bird is a frequent visitor who keeps returning for a daily meal. A visitor who doesn’t bother with social distancing rules but is far too fast for my poor mobile to get a truly in focus picture. On the subject of RETURNING.

The school return question is starting to be vexing again. When the schools closed down a few weeks back the advice was that they would be closed indefinitely. Exams in June and July cancelled. They would certainly remain closed until the virus was under control and the country had implemented systems to keep track infection rates. A return was not going to happen until it was safe to do so.

Let’s set the context in the UK.

  • Each day a 1000 people are dying in hospitals as a result of the virus and the numbers are continue to rise. The UK is likely to have the highest mortality rate in Europe,
  • That horrendous number does not include the many deaths occurring in care homes and in household settings. Up to half of all deaths could be occurring in care homes,
  • Medical staff, care workers, teachers, bus drivers, people who have attempted to self isolate are continuing to die,
  • 5 under the age of 20 have died,
  • Each day something like 40 people die from this virus who have no underlying health issues,
  • The official ‘those at most risk’ list has clearly missed off many thousands of vulnerable patients,
  • Currently the UK can only perform 18000 virus tests per day. That’s not even enough to cover the urgent requirements of our front line staff,
  • Unless your the daughter of a government cabinet minister you are unlikely to be tested if you are self isolating at home,
  • We are still to introduce a virus contact service or app,
  • Even based on the country’s inadequate testing regime we officially have 84000 cases recorded.

That doesn’t strike me as under control.

This week the governments’s appointed scientists and will meet with the Cabinet to consider the lockdown arrangements. The government are keen to reopen the economy as a matter of urgency and revert back to the original herd immunity strategy. Even though growing evidence is developing that people can be become infected more than once. How long any acquired immunity lasts is still uncertain. As part of demonstrating that we are getting back to normal many in the government want schools to reopen ASAP. Certainly well before the ban on mass gatherings are eased. The argument is that kids are at a lower risk of serious complications.

Ok I fully understand the need to start living again. I hope it’s done as quickly as it is safe to do. If decisions are truly based on the best and broadest scientific advice then I think many of us will support that. But then I put my parent’s hat on.

Parents potentially are going to face a decision in the coming weeks. A decision where there is no right or wrong answer. If schools opens early, do I send our kids in. That is a personal decision and not one that I will allow the Government to take for me. Personally this revolves around a number of factors

  • Kids may be at a lower risk of serious complications but that it not NO RISK. Already 5 under the age of 20 have horrifically died,
  • UK schools are not designed for adequate social distancing or effective hygiene. Too many kids, teachers and support staff are crammed into out of date, inadequate facilities,
  • Homeschooling v Schooling – not planning to go there today,
  • The anxiety and stress the return may place on our kids. Some kids may be busting to meet up with friends again and start being a school kid again. But equally many will find the return stressful. With our Son’s Aspergers he struggles with many social and health anxieties. He has a huge issue with the fear of hygiene, illness and death. Co-vid has sent that off the chart. To the extent he struggles to leave the confines of our front gate these days. If we do venture out then it’s a quick walk, keeping at least a field distance between others and not touching any surface. That’s walking a dog in a quiet village, what on earth will it be like when we are talking about a confined building with a 1000 people. The medical support we might be able to tap into to help with this has been cut back by the government. The service is stretched and is currently not able to do face to face counselling until later in the year – currently it’s not deemed safe to do so.

So it’s a personal decision. No right or wrong decision. We all are just trying our best to navigate this mess. For me (with my parent hat on) I can’t see any foreseeable set of circumstances where I would be willing to send him back into school this side of September. But it’s a personal decision. It’s his decision. So when the times comes that the school is open then it’s his call completely. It’s his risk, his stress, his life.

Stay safe people.

Care Bear

The kindly local farmer has been most busy this year. Much needed light amongst the darkness. The Care Bear is well off the path so is maintaining at least 4m of social distancing. That’s a good idea as it was windy.

On the dog walk this morning we saw a number of cyclists and runners on the distant country lane. They were all trying to observe the new social distancing advice. All seemed to be keeping the 2m recommended separation. But is it enough. I was reading an article by a leading virus expert. He said that the 2m separation was a great idea but it was based on quiet air conditions with people either stood still or walking. If the air is turbulent or it’s windy then the safe separation distance should be increased. If you are running then the safe distance behind you (in the wake) needs to be increased by up to 10m. For cycling the safe distance behind is upwards of 20m. Sadly every single person running or cycling was sticking to 2m. So much confusion. So many different expert views. Deep sigh.

One of the great Easter traditions has been performed yet again this morning. Dad forgetting where he hid the Chocolate Eggs in the garden. Followed by

That’s a great egg. Thank you Dad. Is that the last one?”

Slightly puzzled look from Dad….

You do this every year. You can’t remember how many you hid can you?”

Yes it’s only a small number. I couldn’t be sure if it was three of four eggs. Was it five.

Well I’ve found three eggs. That’s a great number but I’d better keep looking. Just in case.”

Good job as 10 minutes later we found the fourth behind the oil tank. I should have realised that when I bought them in February they were on offer, buy one get one free. So why would I just get three…… I will say it before our Son chips in with it.

WHAT A PRIZE MUPPET.

Last year I did the same. Only realised that we had missed an egg when a few months later I found it while cutting the hedge. Then the year before was a spooky one. We had cleared the garden of eggs then when we woke up the next day we found another egg on top of the sundial. I definitely didn’t put it there and it was that obvious we surely couldn’t have both missed it. Bizarrely it was a brand I can’t remember ever buying. The Easter Bunny must have brought that one overnight.

Well I hope the Easter Bunny calls again tonight. This time for me…

After Christmas I went back onto my gluten and dairy free diet. This makes Easter difficult. So I thought that I would treat myself to a dairy free egg. Unfortunately they have been out of stock in our local shops. I guess it’s because they are not seen as an essential item. Just before Home Deliveries became unavailable I managed to add a suitable egg to the delivery list. Job done for Easter. Sadly not. When the delivery arrived the egg had been substituted to the closet available alternative. A packet of gluten free cornflakes. So as people took into their eggs think of me with my bowl of cornflakes. That’s a dry bowl of cornflakes as milk alternatives are also out of stock. But hope exists. Tonight we move to plan b. Cornflakes with gluten free pineapple jelly. The jelly was sent as a substitute for gluten free gravy….

Try to keep smiling everyone.

Standards

Just as many of the daffodils start to die back a few late developers are just coming into bloom. I noticed these two early this morning as I came outside to clear my head after a dream.

I had one of those really bizarre dreams. The kind which you have no idea where the brain dragged that one from. I was trying to drive a lorry pulling a massive prefabricated building. For some reason the building still had all the cups and plates wracked up in the little kitchen. So I was instructed to drive carefully and for every broken item I would have money deducted from my wage. I somehow managed to get my load stuck in a muddy friend surrounded by Emus and talking sheep. I was attacked by the big birds so I had to take shelter on top of the prefab building.

What on earth was that one about…..

Anyone who has seen me drive will realise I am the last person you would trust to drive that load. The odd dream did remind me of a very old University incident. Our team had just won a 5 aside footy tournament and we went off to celebrate. We certainly did celebrate. None of the team can remember much past 8pm but I had clearly decided some time in the early hours that it was a sensible idea to fall asleep on top of one of the university’s prefab lecture rooms. For some reason I had brought a large road sign with me for company. When I finally came to my senses I realised that it was morning and a lecture was in progress just a few feet below me. I could here the lecture rather clearly. Embarrassingly it was a lecture I should have been in. I listened for a while but then my pressing need for the toilet took precedent. Unfortunately the only safe route down was on the window side of the lecture room. A few hours later I was talking with a girl who was in that very lecture. She said that during the lecture the students in her section could hear a rather ghostly snoring noise coming from above them. Then she heard the snoring ghost clearly swear which prompted the lecturer to warn the class about bad behaviour. Then it all went quiet until the sound of movement and scraping could be clearly heard from the roof. Whatever was above her was moving towards the windows. A large road sign then appeared to the thrown to the ground. Then seconds later a rather deshelved character swung his legs over the roof edge. Another loud expletive and the legs disappeared again. The sound or more footsteps on the roof. Then a sports bag wizzed passed the window, followed closely by clearly disheveled person hurtling towards the ground at a surprising uncontrolled rate. An audible groan was then followed by another load expletive. I was then seen hurrying in the general direction of the toilets, carrying what appeared to be a large metal sign….

How on earth did I get an honours degree. Just shows you the decline in UK education standards. Thankfully standards are not being lowered in the daffodil world.

Please note I have not touched a drop of alcohol since 2016…..

Good Friday ?

The headline in the prime UK gutter newspaper (a publication so bad and so vile I can’t even write its name down) was apparently today

Boris is out – now that really is a Good Friday.

Just those words on the front page….. Yes anyone leaving intensive care in a better state than they arrived is a wonderful little victory but it misses one rather salient point. At least 5000 people died in the UK this week and god knows how many worldwide. Will it be a good Friday for the scores of families who will be bereaved today……. The UK is now recording more deaths than any other European country and because of the shambles the government has made on testing – this probably vastly underestimates the real figure. But no need to report on that….. No need to talk about our wonderful nurses forced into using bin bags as protective uniforms.

What would be a Good Friday would be no one suffering today with only one obituary required – one for that loathsome newspaper. I remember once the newsagent accidentally sent that paper to my mum instead of her normal one. She refused to touch it and she burnt it on the doorstep. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it Murdock.

Let’s move on to the real Good Friday.

Our Good Fridays were slightly odd. Normally my partner would introduce all the family traditions. But not on Good Friday. I can’t remember my partner doing anything different on this day. She was a devout Quaker, maybe that was the reason. I do know that I was her biggest trial in life as we were very very different.

For some reason my family traditions kick into overdrive on Good Friday. So unlike me. What’s the old phrase

You wait hours for a bus and then three arrive at the same time.

  • So each Good Friday we would
    • Not be allowed to drink milk all day (No idea where that one came from, probably one of my random dreams tricked me into that one),
    • First food of the day had to be an unbuttered Hot Cross Bun. Not allowed to use a knife to cut it. Every year I’ve done this an yet I don’t like them. My partner hated them so I had to eat hers as well. Then Son hated them as well so that was THREE buns I had to get through.
    • Can’t eat meat all day.
    • The meal at lunchtime had to be fish.
    • Attend a morning cross parade. These don’t tend to happen here anymore and anyway this year they would be banned.
    • No alcohol before you have had the fish. That was actually a very hard challenge when I was at University.
    • We would fly a kite on the afternoon. Apparently this is a tradition which originates from the Caribbean. No idea why that one reached deepest Yorkshire.

    I have to say this year some of the traditions have been dropped while some are just happening out of our daily routine. No milk or meat so far but that’s because son has not had his lunch yet. I’m tea total these days. Not enough wind for a kite. We might have tuna for lunch if I can convince son to change his food routine. However a pesky hot cross bun (plus the one our son won’t touch) will be waiting for my 2pm meal starter. Unfortunately due to the currents our dog is not allowed to help eat them. Thin king about it I might start a new tradition. Have the smallest bite of the bun then share the rest with the birds. That’s a tradition I might be able to stick to.

    Stages

    One of my first records I purchased was ‘All the worlds a stage’ by the rock legends, Rush. Shakespeare wrote that ‘All the worlds a stage’. Don’t worry I’m not going all thespian on you. But I must admit I fancy my chances these days of doing a mighty fine Richard III stage performance. Why is the Stagecoach Bus always two hours late when I try to catch it. Just watched wrestling on the TV which is staged. So many stages.

    Then you get stages in grief. A couple of years ago someone asked me what stage I was at in my bereavement process. I just looked on blankly. All I could think of was two stages. Your life before the death and the life after the death. So I answered – in the second stage and I always will be. I guess that’s not the answer they were looking for.

    Last night I was reading an online article about bereavement counselling. It talked about every bereaved person going through the same 6 stage process. I wasn’t convinced. Surely every person’s grief journey is unique. Why force people to follow a predetermined text book bereavement route which doesn’t suit them. So I gave up with the online article and scribbled down my own staged journey so far. It’s my interpretation of MY journey and in no way is it supposed to fit other people. Remember I’m not a Doctor or Psychologist. I moved a potted plant into my bedroom to raise the rooms overall IQ score. The height of my powers these days is to get the cling film wrapper off food without slicing off a finger…. So here goes with my journey.

    The SHOCK STAGE. Within a period of 6 weeks I’ve just buried my mum and then my partner. I’m a complete mess. Barely able to function and yet I’m supposed to be a Dad. It’s like living in a prolonged nightmare. Trying to sort out the practicalities and legal side of death, but actually got no idea what I’m doing. Basically doing stuff I’m told to do.

    The FRUSTRATION STAGE. The cards, flowers and phone calls have dried up. I’m becoming more aware of the reality of the situation. Trying to get my head round how to be a single parent and at the same time keep some money coming in. I need to find an alternative to my career as it just isn’t doable anymore. The frustration comes from realising that what worked in the past just isn’t going to work now. It’s also so frustrating that the world is still spinning without seemingly even blinking after my partner exited stage left. It feels like I’m fighting this new normality.

    The ACCEPTANCE STAGE. Eventually I began to accept the new reality. This is how it is and I just have to deal with it. I came up with a mental picture which I still use today. A door on my former life has locked shut. It’s never going to open again. I can look through the door window and see memories but I can’t touch them. I could stand here forever but this door isn’t opening. So I have a choice. Continue to stand by the door or set off and find other doors which are still open.

    The IT’S LOVE STAGE. Linked with the Acceptance Stage. I opened a mental dictionary and found a better definition of grief. It defined grief as another word for LOVE. That sounded so reassuring to me.

    The IT’S OK TO GRIEVE STAGE. Up to now I would hide my grief. As if it’s something unhealthy, something deeply embarrassing to others. People might ask how I was doing but they appeared to rapidly change the subject if the answer I provided was not – I’m fine…..But suddenly as grief was another way of saying LOVE, suddenly it became ok to grieve. Yes it could still be so painful but it’s something I shouldn’t be hiding. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. It really is OK to be sad.

    The IT’S OK TO LAUGH STAGE. Up to now I felt bad about smiling and laughing. It was just not right. I would focus entirely on making our Son happy but shunned doing it for myself. It took well over a year but the penny finally dropped. Yes it’s ok to be sad AND YES it’s just as OK to be HAPPY.

    The IT’S OK TO LIVE AGAIN STAGE. After the funeral all my dreams died. When I looked at life I saw it entirely through our sons eyes. When I tried to see it through my eyes all I saw was blackness. Absolutely no future. However over time it became OK to live again. Remarkably I can still be happy. I can find new doors that will open and create new memories. Life can still be at times sad and painful BUT IT CAN also be fun. Just starting to dream again.

    That’s the stage I am at now. Embracing the happiness as much as I respect the sadness. Maybe, just maybe tipping the life balance in favour of fun. Yes it still can be a wonderful life.

    First rant of the month and then the garden beach

    Before anyone says anything this photo was NOT today and not 2020……

    It’s a bizarre country which I live in.

    A place where British war time spirit and a stiff up lip is the way to defeat this unseen enemywell that’s what our newspapers are claiming. No I think you will find that it’s actually antibodies and vaccines that will do that. Self distancing will help dampen the curve but on its own it will not do the job.

    A country which for 10 years has invested heavily in academic testing for an increasingly younger range of school kids. The only principle in UK education is meeting government targets by testing millions of kids, week after week. Test, test, test. Yet the same Government can’t see the importance of testing when it applies to a pandemic. They can’t even provide virus tests for our brave medics and front line carers. Actually the can’t even provide the appropriate protective kit to all our nurses. Suddenly we have a mad scramble for kit, tests and ventilators. It’s not as if the Government didn’t know. Three years ago a study reported to the then Government on how poorly prepared the country was for a pandemic. The Government (including many in the current cabinet) decided to bury the report.

    That’s probably why the UK is soon going to have the worst pandemic mortality rate in Europe.

    Deep deep sigh and divert gaze to domestic matters.

    Dad would you mind if I didn’t do any revision this week for the school tests. Not sure I’m in the right frame of mind for it.”

    Given the current climate why on earth is the school doing exams. Oh I forgot – it’s government policy. Can we just give the kids a break. Especially as the tests are based on such a narrow educational range. It’s more about proving to kids what they don’t know and spotlighting their individual weaknesses. What about letting kids show what they are good at, what they do know.

    “Ok Son that’s fine with me. When you feel the revision force is with you then if you want to, then do some. If it’s not then just have FUN.”

    And that’s what we did. We had to abandon the planned eat some whip cream while bouncing on the trampoline competition. The pigeons who have adopted our garden have now decided to build a nest right next to the trampoline AND it now has eggs. So we opted for plan b and c. Try to make some homemade ice cream. Followed by setting up our very own beach. In the garage I found a couple of old bags of play sand. So that was emptied onto the little patio and the old kiddies paddling pool was filled with water. Shorts and suncream on. An MP3 file of seaside bird and animal sounds was played on my portable music player. Hey presto we are at the beach. Ok we need to work on the beach sounds. The sound of whale songs and walruses fighting are not that common on the Yorkshire coast – but that’s nit picking. As a safe, social distancing adventure it most certainly worked. Now I just need to rebag the sand for our next trip. Maybe it’s to a desert.

    Fit for radio

    The walk across the local farm land always felt like top toeing across a minefield. Constantly looking down at my feet for the myriad little surprises. Cow piles, sheep droppings, mole hills, rabbit holes…. BUT NOW after weeks of walking exactly the same path it’s all changed. Suddenly my brain seems to have mapped out the various dangers. Now I can look up and take in the view. Luckily one view I don’t need to take in is my face. It’s definitely a face fit for radio.

    It was Wrestlemania this weekend. It went ahead without a crowd. We now have a tradition in our house that we stay up and watch it live. Have a party and a bit of a challenge. See who is best at predicting the results. Last year my inevitable defeat cost me a painful forfeit. Eating the hottest chilli we could find in the supermarket. My eyes are still watering. This year the stakes were raised significantly…..

    With his Aspergers, Son is often a creature of habit. Change is avoided. That includes things like clothes. As he grows out of stuff we need to find larger versions of his existing items. That also applies to me. He doesn’t like me to change. I have wanted to go for a really short hair cut for years. Unfortunately that has never been approved by his Lordship. Until now.

    Ok Dad let’s stake your hair on Wrestlemania. If you win the prediction game then you can have your haircut. But if I win you can’t AND it will cost you your beard.”

    Son found some old photos of us as a family of 3 featuring a beardless Dad. I think he secretly wanted me to go back to that look. So Wrestlemania came and went. I gave up counting after Son successfully predicted the first 10 matches and I DIDN’T. The end result – the beard went. I’m not sure I recognise that face in the mirror anymore. Son says I look younger. I’m not sure about that but we can both agree on one thing. It’s still definitely a face best suited to radio.

    Stay safe everyone.

    Sitting here

    It’s early morning and I’ve just finished my workout outside in the breezy Yorkshire air. Son is still asleep safe inside. I’m looking out into the distance and seeing no sign of human life. In the far distance you can just about see the main road leading to the coast. At this time of year it should be nose to tail with caravans and cars packed with excited families. Today it is completely deserted. I patiently waited for five minutes. Not one vehicle. Then I fall backwards and look at the heavens. An empty sky. Yes clouds and fleeting glimpses of lukewarm sun, but not one single aeroplane. To the East we can see one of the main air corridors. We often excitedly get the Flightradar24 app out and check where the many planes are heading. America, Canada, Europe, Asia. Today nothing. Not one single vapour trail.

    Has the world stopped turning?

    Three years ago our little home stopped dead yet the world kept turning. It was a harsh lesson. Even when good people leave us the vast majority of the world is oblivious. In the days after the funeral I would question

    Why has the world not stopped…..

    Well it appears to have stopped now. Yet does it help. NO.

    Later I am inside listening to music on the radio. It’s a sobering experience. Usually listeners are requesting celebratory songs for weddings, anniversaries and birthdays. Today the airwaves are frequently filled with songs dedicated to rock lovers who have lost a fight with an unseen new enemy. My heart goes out to you all. It was only a matter of time before someone requested Alter Bridge and Godspeed. The finest song I’ve come across about loss. My bereavement go to track.

    Test me once again
    You know I didn’t do anything
    Set my life on low
    You know I could have had it all
    Drifting out of place
    With no direction and no escape
    Set out all alone
    Oh to a place I don’t belong
    Without you
    I know that I must change
    Without you
    I’ll never be the same
    No
    Farewell
    Godspeed
    And goodbye
    You have lived
    And you have changed
    All our lives
    Test me all the way
    Surely you know
    I’m not afraid
    Prove now once again
    That I will never see the end
    Without you
    I know that I must change
    Without you
    I’ll never be the same
    Farewell
    Godspeed
    And goodbye
    You have lived
    And you have changed
    All our lives
    Cast away
    Our regrets and all our fears
    Just like
    Like you did when you were here
    And then the days
    They ran out
    And then the days
    They ran out
    Farewell
    Godspeed
    And goodbye
    You have lived
    And you have changed
    All our lives
    Cast away
    Our regrets and all our fears
    Just like
    Like you did when you were here
    And then the days
    They ran out
    And then the days
    They ran out

    Lyrics by Tremonti/Kennedy (source Musixmatch)

    Even after a few hours the cars and aeroplanes are still missing. The world may still have stopped. But son is finally rousing himself. Our little world cannot permanently stop. He has a childhood to live and enjoy. So one more sip of my hot drink and find that happy face. Reach for that bag of tricks we all have and find a way to shut this horrible situation out for a while. Start having as much fun as we can. Let’s keep living and hope the world starts turning again real soon.

    Stay safe my friends and I really hope you find your own way to smile. Maybe if enough of us do this then we might just be able to start the world turning again.