This is a perfect place to come and hide from the madness that is England. A country that feels like it’s unraveling in from of my angry eyes, all while Nero parties and plays his fiddle while everything burns around him. He is laughing at us all, he is mocking us all. How much worse can it get. How did we let this happen. Thankfully we still have places like this tranquil lake that have not yet been corrupted.
Proper Yorkshire weather. Two waterproofs, two jumpers, extra thick thermals required. No umbrella in the world will last 5 seconds in this.
Definitely had the country lanes to ourselves. In fact even too bad for animal or bird. The only exceptions, two intrepid swans on the lake but even those probably had wooly hats on.
As we hunkered even further down inside our waterproof Ironman suits we talked about life, school and Aspergers.
“Dad, now that I can read, can I get dyslexia taken off my medical record. I never got any help with it anyway..”
The conversation went on until….
“How do I get Aspergers taken off my medical record.”
Here’s why. To summarise this was Hawklad’s thoughts.
“I know I’m not cured. You can’t cure Aspergers. It is just who I am. It’s just that too many people don’t understand. They don’t bother to see, they just hear the word Aspergers and they just assume, assume wrong. Plus I don’t get any extra help for being listed as Aspergers from school and only a little bit from the Doctors. It isn’t doing me any good”.
What do you say to that. Especially when he’s right about too many people, the complete lack of adjustments from teachers and that the little bit of health support he does get is being phased out. Any support which had to be fought for is removed as the teenage years are reached. Adults are expected to fend for themselves. The Aspergers label helped explain some things initially, it probably helped the parents more but as Hawklad concluded
‘What is the point’…….
That’s a tree which needs to be in the next Lord of the Rings remake.
Another school at home week is about to unfold, will it be academically more productive than the last one. I’m not hopeful. At least we have a better balance for Hawklad. The missing school lessons are replaced with Hawklad selected learning and time spent outside. I’m really hoping that is helping Hawklad, this is what this is all about. It’s kinda scary that after 14 years it still feels like I’m winging this parenting gig.
Winging it more than ever. I guess one advantage of being a single parent. I’m official the best parent in the house. Actually I’m also the worst parent in the house. Best baker, worst baker. That’s where is stops. Hawklad is the best in everything else. He’s even the tallest now. How emasculating is that for a Dad 🤣🤣🤣🤣. Well at least I’m still the heaviest in the house, that’s one crown he is never going to take from me. I knew eating all those donuts would come in useful one day. I just hope in the greater scheme of things, I’ve been more useful than a hinderance as parent. And with that thought I’m off to find the next box of donuts.
Castle Howard as the winter sun starts to set. A Friday school at home week finishing with a walk round a rather understated small abode.
Plenty of time for a walk , three completely missing lessons today. Maybe it’s a school day dedicated just to inner contemplation and finding oneself. What am I thinking, with this current bunch of lockdown partying crooks in charge of our country, they would more likely have sent the kids out as chimney sweeps or have used them as cannon fodder in some distant foreign land. There is no benefit this Government won’t cut, no important service they won’t hand over to rich buddies for profit. Next gravy train stop, the NHS. They already have removed our children’s rights to unrestricted travel, leisure and employment opportunities across 27 European countries. That kind of enlightened personal rights didn’t make Victorian Times so profitable for the few.
So as thoughts of a revolution rattled around a tired, disgruntled muppets head and Hawklad looked out for birds of prey, we walked and walked and …….
Look what we found….
The first Daffodils of the season here. Wow they are early for round here.
A reminder that this still can be wonderful life. Somethings still can’t be corrupted. At some stage the next generation will be in charge and thats why there is hope.
Yesterday the mad dog got a bit of blogging attention, well today his partner in crime is getting the spotlight. It’s big fat cat time.
Shame he’s a bit shy….
Or is it just sign that it’s such a hard life being a big fat cat.
Here’s the thing. I feel like copying the cat sometimes. Well not that thing he does when he’s bent double…. But definitely this covering the eyes truck. Definitely feeling tired and worn down. Parenting doesn’t really give you many breaks. Single parenting since 2016, no meaningful breaks really. No holidays. No letting what’s left of my hair down. Throw a pandemic in and each day seems to be very similar to last one. Spooky that it was Groundhog Day this week, apparently the little hog chap farted which means it’s another 6 weeks of eating Lasagna or something like that. You get the picture.
This feeling will pass. I’ve had these spells before. A better nights sleep will help. Maybe a shed load of caffeine and chocolate will do the trick. Mum would get me to play some sad music as a pick me up, so where is my Pink Floyd – Final Cut album (wow that’s a cheerful thing) or even darker, The Best of Alvin and the Chipmunks. But until I get my mojo back, maybe that soft, big pudding of a cat has a point, at least for one night.
Somedays are more tiring than others. Some days are more stressful than others. Somedays the serious words don’t come. Somedays it’s best just be silly.
It’s been too long. Actually I can hear shouts of ‘not long enough’. But here goes. It’s Terrible Poetry time. The Bad Bard is back. All thanks to Chelsea Owens Terrible Poetry contest.
https://chelowens.com/category/contests/terrible-poetry-contest/
This time the rules are….
You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Thursday (February 3) to submit a poem to Chelsea.
So which classic poem shall we go for. Something poetic, something beautiful, something deep, something philosophical. Let’s go for a classic opening line that ticks all those boxes. Maybe Shakespeare, maybe Blake, maybe Wordsworth. Or maybe Philip Larkin, maybe his classic ‘This be the verse’ with its uplifting first line…..
‘They F**k you up, your mum and dad’
That’s me kicked out before I even start…..
So let’s use those poetic word gems do type an ode to Captain Chaos. Let’s make it Terrible.
His best buddy is a seriously fat cat, it’s far too quiet, where are THEY
They have just pulled the curtain off the wall, what the F**K
Now it’s on the floor, covered in hairs, well Thank YOU
Captain now thinks it’s great fun to try to hump the cat, that’s seriously messed UP
Even The Cap knows you can’t end a sentence with a possessive determiner like YOUR
But he is a clever dog with a great pedigree, a beautiful white Spitz is his MUM
He gets his intelligence, looks, fluffy hair and cunning from her AND
being a right ruffian, rogue, rascal and rampantly randy from his Cocker Spaniel DAD
Who are EWE looking at…..
Hawklad had an English assessment to do at home today.
Compare how poets present attitudes towards a parent in ‘Follower’ and one other poem from the ‘Love and Relationship’ anthology.
One poem was provided the other poem had to be recalled from memory, the class has been trying to memorise quotes from the other poems. 45 minutes to answer this one…..
Hawklad was suitably impressed…..
“Dad that was 44 minutes too long to answer that….”
“Dad don’t you think the poets would have hoped people would read all of their poems, rather than just trying to memorise little bits of their work like parrots”
“If I’m going to memorise some prose, then it’s going to be Shakespeare”
“I’m as bad at poetry as you are Dad….”
He did his best and that all that counts.
I was suitably not impressed with the question as well. I just wish schools and exam boards just thought a bit more about the questions they are setting. A question about parents and poetry seems relatively innocuous but of the thousands of pupils answering it, how many have lost a parent. One of the poems the class had to examine stresses the importance of a mother to a child. How’s that going to make kids like Hawklad feel. How many don’t have a parents at all. How many haven’t seen a parent in years. How many are going through hell because of their parents. This question could be really distressing for some pupils. Surely that’s not fair, surely that’s not right.
The first flowers of 2022. Winter might not be over but it feels much more manageable now.
There is a local saying here – The first snowdrops bring the first real snow. We shall see but the sledge is ready to fly down the hill. One of the advantages of a large posterior is that once the sledge gets going, wow does it get going.
Sill waiting for the school week to get going. Hardly any work provided today but that means Hawklad can set his own learning agenda. It necessarily great for his exams but much better for his own development. So while he was learning about multi universe theory (that’s not the Marvel version) I could go outside. Outside on my hands and knees. Checking at the beautiful new arrivals. That definitely feels more satisfying than the usual Monday school lesson day.
It’s been a while. Too long. But fear not. Baking is back. As Spock would say, it’s baking Jim but not as we know it…. I like to call it Weaponised Baking.
I know so many of you wait for those Michelin Standard baking tips. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
So here goes.
I was about to bake a loaf of bread but I wanted to spice it up a tad. Maybe add some cheese, or a few Mediterranean herbs. But it just didn’t go far enough. What could I find in the fridge or cupboards which was game changing..
A few hours later we have……
I give you gluten and dairy free, no added sugar – BLACK FOREST FRUIT BREAD.
The end result, just a bit different from cheesy bread. The taste, well it’s different. As Hawklad described it
“Well it doesn’t taste poisonous, it’s a unique sensation. Its like my taste buds are being assaulted…..”
True weaponised baking…..
Another early finish to a Friday school at home day. A few bits of work, some random, time consuming bits of homework. All done by 1pm. So time to head out for an afternoon stroll. A much needed stroll. I could get use to these Friday school days. Good for Hawklad as well. He finds it easier talking about his worries when he’s outside. Talking is good. Bottling them up is not so good. A few worries talked through then he can call the start of the weekend. Talk switches to fun stuff and we all need a bit of fun. Fun is good for the soul.
A very Yorkshire weathered statue. No it’s not in our garden…..
Walked past this statue so many times over the years and yet I’ve never taken the time to notice the details. But this week I took that closer look and look what I discovered on the plinth.
You just never know what you will find.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 