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Guides

Nice weather

I needed to remind myself of some nice weather as the actual weather is more like this….

Wet, wet, wet. 20 hours of non stop winter weather. I do love a Yorkshire summer. I guess we should call it grand weather for the Rhubard…..

Work is similarly frustrating. Since the so called government (sorry trying to cut back on my rants…) announced the relaxing of the rules we had a number of events put on our books for September and October. But as fast as I start to schedule them and fill in the details, THEY GET CANCELLED. Unless we manage to run a few of these then our organisation will have to mothball and hope to hibernate through to 2021. No guarantee that it would survive that. Sadly like so many other places.

I keep saying this but I do need to spend some time on employment options. Find some other options that can fit round Hawklad. But what…

“Dad maybe it’s time to take those Dummy Guides further. Take them to a whole new level. Dummy doesn’t go far enough. Must be people needing the Full Muppet Guide to Life. Only one person truly qualified for that job…..”

Thinking about it, it’s an endless source of material.

  • Muppet guide to Government (Co author Dominic Cummings),
  • Muppet guide to Brexit (Co author Boris Johnson),
  • Muppet guide to Parenting,
  • Muppet guide to IKEA flat pack furniture,
  • Muppet guide to weapons grade baking,
  • Muppet guide to finding your car keys,
  • Muppet guide to poetry and making it so unremittingly awful,
  • Muppet guide to homeschooling,
  • Muppet guide to shouting at school,
  • Muppet guide to animals taking over your home,
  • Muppet guide to falling asleep during Avatar,
  • Muppet guide to getting lost,
  • Muppet guide to putting your subway (Tube) ticket safely in your pocket and then not being able to find it as soon as a Ticket Collector appears,
  • Muppet guide to trying to remember where you were going in the first place,
  • Muppet guide to losing socks,
  • Muppet guide to getting paper jammed in a photocopier,
  • Muppet guide to learning and then forgetting a foreign language.
  • Muppet guide to becoming a famous Mills & Boon author,
  • Muppet guide to ineffective house work,
  • Muppet guide to understanding Tolkien’s Silmarillion,
  • Muppet guide to juggling,
  • Muppet guide to singing in the bath so out of tune you end up sounding like Bono and U2,
  • Muppet guide to healthy weeds,
  • Muppet guide to arm wrestling and shin kicking,
  • Muppet guide to getting the cellophane wrapper off a cd with a kitchen knife and then not being able to open a sticking plaster with the one remaining good hand,
  • Muppet guide to growing old disgracefully.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 79 Comments

Two things

Two strange things have happened over the last few days. And NO it’s not that I have found sleep….

The two things are that clearly we have moved back into winter and I have switched to the new WP editor. I’m hoping both are short term changes.

Not sure the cover to my waterproof exercise bike cover is Yorkshire weather resistant

It’s winter. Very cold, very wet and exceedingly stormy. In fact the storm force wind has managed to shift the exercise bike a few feet since last night. I struggle to do that on a good day. It’s been that wet I’ve spent most of the morning trying to stop the rain from flooding out the Utility Room. Too bad even to exercise outside, so it was an indoor session. Problem with those are trying to find enough space and the PETS. The sight of me on my back trying to lift up weights is too much for a dog and cat. Suddenly it’s play time for the not so little hooligans. What chance do I have I’d focusing on posture and technique when I have various well chewed soft toys dropped on my face.

Using the new WP editor feels a little like having a soggy, well chewed pet toy repeatedly checked at you. It kinda works but only on its terms. It does like randomly reformatting posts, messing up links, deleting posts and generally messing up my blog. The deleting of my posts may well be seen as a wonderful feature amongst many. It’s basically as well behaved as our pets, which is not behaved at all…..

Unbelievably this little white flower continues to survive the buffeting. Clearly it was designed to cope with ‘its raining cats and dogs’ weather. I suspect it’s not designed to cope with mad pets although it might be able to design a more user friendly WP editor.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 49 Comments

Identity and Grief

So pleased to have another guest post for you from Katie and Evee. If you haven’t already, it’s so worth checking out their beautiful blog, twitter (@thegriefreality) and instagram sites (thegriefreality). They have a wonderful view on life and living with grief. Today you will find a new post from me on their blog.

Identity and Grief

Tell me about yourself. What makes you, you?

Grief strips you down to the soil of who you are. When you experience this, you may realize you don’t know who you are. The person who you miss the most has been replaced with this new awkward lump of emotion; Grief. That’s exactly what it was like for us.

When the nurses chatter has died down, and everyone has gone home to resume normal life; You are left with yourself, but who are you now?

This question was one we both struggled with at different times.

Grief forced us to not only walk without Mum in this life, but also to relearn who we were when everything was stripped away.

We used to hold a firm sense of self. We trusted that our identity was unshakeable; we knew who we were, and nothing was going to stop us from being us.

But nothing could have prepared us for how alien we felt when we lost our Mum. What made us ‘Katie’ and ‘Evee’ seemed to have run for cover when we experienced that crashing loss.

Certain aspects of identity are dependent on certain factors; the family circle being one. Your family teach you everything you need to know about the world, how to react and respond. Your family teaches you to love.

When a key member of this circle is taken away; you feel lost, bewildered, confused. How can you continue living as the person you were before, when all of the factors that created you are gone?

The crucial part of this is to know that that version of you is undeniably altered. It may disappear for a little while, but you will come back to yourself one day: just a little more beaten, and a lot more experienced.

This is not necessarily a bad or negative thing. When you cut open a tree, you see the rings of growth; your previous selves are concrete in these rings of growth. The rough patch you are going through is like the bark which will eventually grow into another ring to make up that tree.

No growth comes from being what you were, and staying stagnant in your identity. Growth comes from turning up for a new day, each day, no matter how weary you are. Becoming a new you with those previous experiences making up this new edition of you.

Your loss and your love will always be a part of your identity. Your loved one will maintain an inherent component of you. That is not going anywhere.

You may have a few more grey hairs, wrinkles or awkward branches sticking out, but your core will always be you. Whatever that now looks like. That is what holds you firm, and renewing your green leaves.

Stay hopeful,

Katie & Evee

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 74 Comments

Kinda

One of those weather days. Kinda sunny, kinda cloudy, kinda windy, kinda warm, kinda chilly, kinda dry and kinda wet. I guess it’s a kinda Yorkshire day. Rather excitingly I walked to that Tree today and back. Keep it quiet, Hawklad doesn’t know. He was too busy watching a Sherlock episode. It was funny as I had just finished my fitness programme for the morning. Definitely slightly out of breath. Probably not the best time to try and sing The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music. Probably better trying to sing in the more deeper tones of four fine Yorkshire born Rock front men, Joe Cocker, Paul Rodgers (Free, Bad Company), David Coverdale (Deep Purple, Whitesnake) or Joe Elliot (Def Leppard). Better off probably dressing like them as well, rather than Julie Andrews. That would kinda make more sense.

I’ve now got this bizarre thought in my head. Monty Python skipping over that hill, signing that song about The Alps, all in a deep Yorkshire accent while wearing wellies and a knitted handkerchiefs on their heads. That’s kinda disturbing.

Changing the subject rapidly. I was doing today’s workout outside in the garden when that Tree caught my eye. I thought about it being months since I ventured there. I decided it was kinda time to revisit there. Sit a few minutes under the branches. Well I did. That’s where I noticed that I was slightly out of breath. But I kinda have an excuse. It was straight after my workout. A slightly longer one.

I have this silly little ritual. Every year I add on one more minute to my exercise sessions. The thinking is that yes that’s one year older but my body is coping with one more minute of workout than it did last year – so I must still be improving. Rather than getting older I’m getting fitter. Kinda getting better, still improving. Well that’s the thinking anyway….. Kinda makes sense to me.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 78 Comments

Flying

Wouldn’t it be great to fly. To just fly. No need for a baggage check in, security and long waits in the Terminal. Just to fly under your own steam, when and wherever. Given the size of my bum during these lockdown days, that would have to me some mighty wingspan to get me airborne. Buttocks like mine are the reason that they invented super sized planes like the 747 with those massive engines.

“Dad have you lost that weight you said you were going to before the summer…”

Yes I did set a goal of shedding some weight.

“You actually said it would be 14lbs which is 6.3kg’s. So how are you doing?”

I am probably about 6.3kg’s short of the goal currently…..

“So what’s gone wrong?”

I’m exercising really hard but I’m just not getting any long runs. Without the runs it’s a real struggle to get my heart rate above 100 during the exercise. But the main problem is the food. I’m having to eat Soya and some Gluten products. These just make me blow up as if I’m pregnant.

“Are you sure your not pregnant?”

Pretty sure, although we have some of your old baby clothes somewhere – just in case. Those food types just make my abdomen and face puff up. It takes ages for my system to try and process them. When the shop gets a better range of things back in, then things will improve.

“Arnold Schwarzenegger became pregnant in that movie. Look how much money he has now. Just saying……Instead of soya and gluten stuff, Dad, why don’t you just eat salads and soups…”

*******

Yes we could all do with some more money but call me a coward, not that way please…. But Hawklad does have a good point. I’ve just switched to the soya and gluten alternatives without really thinking. Salads would be far better for me. I’ve become lazy, stopped making things like soups and stews. So from today my body becomes a temple. A well cared for one. Now I don’t have an excuse, that weight has to come off now. Either that or it’s a remake of the movie Junior….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 79 Comments

Hope

A mass of pink.

Thankfully every year this happens.

This rose is clearly very old. It’s been here for nearly 20 years. Before that it was at Hawklads grannies house in Thornton le Dale for several years. And before that it was blooming in K’s childhood home. So it’s well travelled and clearly very old. It provides a symbol of hope to me. A beacon. We all need these in whatever form. I am so lucky to have a number of these sources of hope. Some are close by like this one which is next to my bedroom wall and some are much further away. Regardless of the distance and location, they are special to me. So I care for them and yes worry for them. In terms of the plants, we did have a few more of these symbolic plants but slowly the Yorkshire winters and living on an exposed hill have taken their toll. Now we are down just to three of these well travelled old plants. Yes the numbers are dropping each year but the hope they represent still shines so brightly. Each winter I hope and pray that they make it through the rough months. So yes, I am always thankful for another year of those treasured flowers.

Over time I have lost things which are special to me. Things change and that is life. But if I open my eyes and heart then new beauty will enter my life. Hope is renewed and flourishes again. That’s why it still can be a wonderful life.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 81 Comments

Needs trimming

That hedge needs trimming……

Hawklad likes to think that this bush has become so large and overgrown, that if it was one day cut then it might destabilise the earths orbit. Better not touch it then. That’s what I call a quality excuse to avoid hard work. A few minutes later it was absolutely chucking it down. At least we got a few minutes sun.

Well that dreaded day has arrived. Been trying to put it off. Yes Hawklad is now taller than me. Certainly if you include the hair…. Even discounting hair then he is now above me. Waiting till he was 15 or 16 would have been nice. But only just gone 13 – really….

I was happy at 5ft10.5 (179cm). I was just above average height. Yes a few more inches might have given my goalkeeping career a boost, but I was cool with my height. I was the tallest in our family. But deep down I knew my title would be lost. Especially when Hawklad was 9 and the Doctor told him that he was above the 97th percentile for height at his age. 97th is always going to tower over something like the 51st.

Now to work on his weight. He is tall but very slim. He struggles to maintain his weight. He’s underweight for his age and height. That’s a label that I have never, ever had. In the words of his Doctor – if he wants to eat chocolate then let him, no need for calorie counting, just eat…. It maybe that he is always moving, brain always in overdrive. It’s something I have to keep an eye on. Evidence is rising on the link between Autism and eating disorders. He is conscious of his weight but thinks he is overweight. He does love eating salads and vegetables. I need to find ways to get more calories in him in a sustainable way.

At the moment we are probably just about maintaining a balanced approach, but only just. I don’t want to make light of this. Many families and adults are so struggling with eating disorders, which too often end tragically. Much more needs to be understood and done. We will treat this so seriously and will continue to look at options. In our case the best approach often involves humour, so…. So maybe a better baker than me is required in our house. That’s something Hawklad would sign up to.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 97 Comments

Remember

Sadly I won’t be able to visit here today. Its 50 miles away and currently just so out of reach. My mind will wander there today. Not for too long as my mother would give me a stern talking-to for fussing too much. So I will make myself a cup of tea and take a few moments to remember some mum memories.

  • Her famous meat and two vegetables Sunday lunches. She even amended that to Quorn and two vegetables for an awkward son. Followed by the best ever apple crumble and custard.
  • How she would call everyone (including the pets) Pidge so that she never forgot a name. You knew you were in trouble when she called you by your real name,
  • Going to her house and hearing Sinatra or Cash singing as you went through the door,
  • Walking into her living room and her first words being, Do you want a cup of tea and a biscuit,
  • Sat on a plane at Heathrow Airport with her and she started eating toffees to stop her ears popping. She finished all three packets of sweets before the plane had even started taxiing. And yes her ears popped,
  • The day she went into a small shop for a paper and she ended up being smiled at by one of Europe’s best footballers, who had come in for a prematch chocolate bar,
  • Every year asking me to put a 10p bet on the big horse race. I never told her that I always made the bet up to a £1,
  • Her refusing to be called Granny or Great Granny, so she became little Nan,
  • Every time I would take Hawklad round to see Little Nan on a Sunday and she would somehow have managed to find another Mr Men book which he had never read,
  • Mum with my oldest sister running out of the Dracula museum in a fit of giggles when a man dressed up as the Prince of Darkness had unexpectedly appeared behind them,
  • On a morning finding various little garden birds stood patiently in her kitchen waiting to be fed.

And so many more memories from a truly wonderful mum. So it’s time for a cup of tea and a biscuit. Time to remember. Days like this that photographs from so many years ago become treasures.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 71 Comments

Life snapshot

The Aspergers life can be racked with anxieties and obsessive behaviours. Additionally Aspergers can frequently coexist with OCD. Add the death of a mum and both grannies. Then on top of that you add a pandemic. Something has to give with that kind of pressure building up. That’s what our son is dealing with and it is so very tough for him. What does that mean in practice. Well here is a snapshot of life and the impact it has on him.

Every ache, every sneeze, every spot, every pain is seen as a potential sign of a serious disease or the C word. Anxieties bring on indigestion and constipation. These are then seen by him as more potential warnings of serious, life threatening health conditions. The natural response was to frequently wash his hands. It was both to cleanse his hands but also an attempt to pour water on the raging anxiety wildfire. Washing to the point of red raw skin. These issues have existed for years but slowly during 2019 slow progress started to happen. The hand washing was just about brought under control. Then the pandemic hit. The progress was instantly lost. Suddenly the months of reassuring talk a out avoiding serious illnesses, the bodies capacity to fight back and the advances in medical science are basically blown out of the water. The problems started to mount up again and escalate to new heights.

  • Hand washing every few minutes. From 15 second washing now to washing for minutes at a time.
  • A reluctance to dry washed hands as towels might be a source of germs.
  • Harmful germs are seen to exist everywhere. Suddenly it’s difficult for him to touch taps, toilet handles and door knobs. Sheets of paper have to be left next to these so he can avoid touching them directly. Even pulling on a shirt may result in the potentially unclean sleeves coming into contact with his hands. Shoes have to be put on without using his hands.
  • iPads and joysticks have to be washed frequently and definitely before he touches them. It’s the same for things like pens.
  • When he strokes his pets he will immediately run to wash his hands.
  • He needs to see evidence that I wash my hands before I touch any of his items.
  • Clothes have to be frequently washed often multiple times a day.
  • Outside he is constantly looking out for flies and flying bugs. If they come too close then he will need to go inside to wash.
  • He has to have his own seat and no one is allowed to touch it. If they do then the seat has to be cleaned.
  • When he goes out the the front door then he consciously tries to avoid walking over any areas that the postman or others might have walked across. When he comes back in them his shoes will need to be completely cleaned. If he ventures through the front gate and into the outside world then on his return he will completely strip, shower and change to new clothes. Those rules apply to me as well.
  • Mouth-washing and gargling is frequently repeated during the day.
  • Any item which hits the ground (inside or out) will need to be deep cleaned.
  • Any new food items have to go into the garage and complete a quarantine period if at least three days.

This is daily life in our little home. I do my best to reassure, reason and modify behaviours. But it feels nothing more than trying to plug a leaking dam at present. One hole maybe plugged but in the meantime another two new holes have appeared. Counselling was there but government cutbacks have taken their toll on services. The pandemic has temporarily suspended specialist help. The result is massive backlogs and no access to help. These are tough times. For him and yes me as well. As a parent you feel helpless, definitely so underprepared for these challenges. But we keep going. We pick ourselves up and go again. Yes we will get there. We will. But it will take time. Realistically maybe well into 2021. In practice timescales don’t matter, we take each day as it comes, fortified by the love of friends.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 74 Comments

It’s been too long without some Terrible Poetry

It’s been far too long since I’ve inflicted some terrible poetry on you. Just like my baking and my terrible Yorkshire jokes – YOU KNOW YOU LOVE IT 💓. So here goes then, but wait….. the last time I did one of these, it was pointed out that I couldn’t write these without having a go at the Government. As we know having a pop at The Government can be fun. But it can also be just a little grinding. So this is a politics lite poem (honest, well I might have accidentally slipped in one subliminal message, can you spot it…..). Remember I’m not very good at this sort of thing. If you want brilliant poetry then look away and certainly look at the wonderful sites out there. I follow so many and they never fail to take my breath away with how good their work is. These are brilliant sites for a starter.

Tina (Pippi’s Poetry)

Sadje (lifeafter50forwomen)

TanGental

Opher’s World

Ruth’s Scribbles

Blindzanygirl

So here goes let’s make it terrible…….

Basking in a garden full of weeds

One which requires no expensive seeds

Requiring absolutely no tiring weeding

It’s good on the knees with 100% chance of succeeding

Such a source of endless colours

Just perfect for my crappy watercolours

Oh I hear you shout, I didn’t know you could paint

He is that good I could be paintings patron saint

Should see the mess I made of son’s bedroom wall

One would think I did it after a hefty pub crawl

No painting is not my thing, weeds are what I excel in

It’s as natural to me as having a hairy double chin

So why don’t you venture with me into my overgrown garden

A special place which is great at capturing that pesky carbon

Please bring your own cakes as mine might make you unwell

Really bring your own as my cakes are as hard as a bombshell

And we can have a drink you can comfortably settle

Then watch me get stung by that pesky little nettle

****** as pointed out I can’t spell Johnson – makes it even more terrible and clearly indicates my inability to write English.