A brief bit of sun to lift the spirits of a tree that still stands proud after many years of weather beatings. Stood on an exposed hilltop with nothing between it and the prevailing weather systems heading across from the Atlantic. Countless storms, damaging winds and more than two direct lightning strikes.
When I need a lift, I look across the fields to this friend and it is a friend. A constant reminder of resilience. But also so much more. A reminder of what life can still mean, of beautiful dreams and new memories to be made.
Autumn is nearly over for another year. Sadly the same can’t be said about other things in life.
There’s been a few messages being pushed here in the UK since July.
Covid is now just like flu….
We are now learning to beat Covid….
Get a vaccine and you don’t need to worry about things like masks…..
We have a Prime Minister who makes a show of walking round a Hospital with no mask….Even after being told THREE times to put one on by staff. Finally he did after the cameras were turned off.
Photo of a selfish prat from The Mirror
All these messages mean that social distancing is often not happening here anymore. Masks are becoming a bit of a rarity in places like shops and public gatherings like football matches. But now the managed message has become way more disturbing. Here’s a phrase being used by the UK Government and freely repeated in news outlets.
Only 6 healthy children with no underlying health conditions have died due to Covid in the last 12 months here….
As if the other 112 children who died with conditions such as asthma don’t count as much. That attitude is such a dangerous road to go down for a country.
As if 6 plus 112 children dying is an acceptable number. Something which we are prepared to accept as normal. Sadly now this is the becoming the case, the norm. What are we becoming when our PM can say
‘I’ve given you the most important metric. Never mind life expectancy, never mind cancer outcomes, just look at wage growth’.
He’s not my leader. He will never me my leader. We deserve better than him. Our children, all our children deserve much better than someone like him.
It’s that autumnal time of year for cobwebs. The local world is covered in them. Definitely another great reason to go outside. That one is almost good enough to play tennis with.
If only the cobwebs didn’t extend to my brain…..
Trying to show Hawklad how you work this little beauty out.
If 9 grams of water is decomposed, how many grams of oxygen and hydrogen are obtained?
If only it was just this one question. Another 30 questions of increasingly fiendish difficulty are facing Hawklad. As his science expert (🥸🥸🥸🤪🤪🤪) it was my job to explain that to him. Oh the brain cobwebs. That part of my brain has been much neglected over the many years since leaving university. Strangely no cobwebs in the parts of the brain that could answer questions like
Who won the FACUP in 1955?
Who played the hero scientist in Quatermass and the Pit?
Name all the characters in The Penguins of Madagascar?
Recite every word from The Dead Parrot sketch?
But sadly chemistry has much cobwebbing for some peculiar reason. So after 90 minutes of mental short circuiting I asked the next question with some trepidation.
What’s the next lesson?
Its History Dad. All about the 1542 Witchcraft Act.
Oooohhhhh. #@##%##@…..
It’s ok Dad, we have unbelievably done that before. I’m good on that. You can stand down for 90 minutes and have a rest.
The 1542 Witchcraft Act is clearly a horrible moment in our history but I get a rest, so for one day only, it’s gone up in my estimation. Does that make me a bad parent…….
A moody start to the day. Kinda sums up the school week so far. The occasional glimpse of light, a bit of hope. But mainly grey, misty with a distinct whiff of approaching stormy weather…… Best highlighted by a review test sent today covering areas that poor Hawklad had never seen before. So if it’s a review then what did the teacher base that on.
What else has Hawklad been missing out on…..
I keep hearing that companies like Amazon are getting really smart at identifying potential new selling areas. Tailoring them to the individual. Using email and search contents to drill down on what the likes of me would like to spend my money on. To target me. That being the case then why am I getting bombarded by adverts about Scuba Diving Kit. I don’t believe I’ve ever searched the subject. Never trawled through Amazon for it. Never discussed it in an email. I CANT EVEN SWIM…… I guess a diving suit might be just what I need if I go out for a night on the town. Definitely Eye catching. In fact the oxygen task and snorkel mask is also very pandemic practical. Ok actually I might give those marketing emails more a more detailed perusal…..
Soon the autumnal colours will be gone for another year. Time to batten down the hatches for winter. But there is still just about time to get out there, be a part of one of nature’s great shows.
It is a wonderful world, so many adventures still to be had.
But here’s the crazy thing. Why if it’s such a wonderful world, with endless possibilities, have I found so many excuses in the PAST to stay INSIDE so often.
So much on our doorstep. So much to see and visit on a daily basis.
I was going through a box of maps, trying to find one covering part of our area. Why was it at the bottom of the box, buried under all the other maps….. Why was it as good as new, almost unused…….
As I searched through the other maps I found various handwritten notes. The notes, an insight into my former days. Route maps, climbing plans, camping sites, potential itineraries. One note caught my eye. A 4 day plan to climb 12 mountains on the Isle of Skye over one extended weekend. A real challenge for me, something to work to.
For years it has stayed a plan, gathering dust in that box.
It’s a different world for me now. Single parenting happened.
I smiled at that 4 day climbing plan and then carefully put it back in the box – maybe I can still use that one day. But at present my plans need to be much closer to hand. So the local map I was looking for was found. What can be found on my doorstep. That’s a start.
A Sunday in a very quiet part of Yorkshire. A good place to think.
It’s now over 5 years since I became a widow. Where did those 5 years go. Some days it feels like a lifetime, then there are times when it only seems like yesterday. Whatever it feels like, a lot has changed over those years. I’m a changed person with a changed outlook on life (and death). There were times when I thought that was it, life was over. It was just a matter of survival. But I made it through those times and I’m ready to start experiencing what this world has to offer again. I am dreaming again. Different dreams and whisper it, bigger dreams. Maybe that’s a surprising thought. Grief has taught me how to better LIVE. Looking back, to the run up to my partner dying, my priorities were far too often skewed. Maybe I was just surviving. Taking life for granted. Going through the motions. Not looking for adventures. Already personally hemmed in, struggling. Then everything changed within two weeks. Suddenly life’s safety net was removed. I was a single parent with the established script ripped up. I didn’t realise it but I suddenly had to face up to life. Over those 5 years I had to make changes, reappraise everything. Finally decide what was truly important to me.
So as I stood looking across that peaceful graveyard I could see something which I had missed. Grief was about coming to terms with loss, coming to terms with regrets, trying to be the best parent I could be to a young child who needed me AND a process of coming back to life again.
I wonder what lies in the direction of that rainbow. Is it a pot of gold or just maybe its the best dreams ever.
That rainbow took me back several centuries to when I was at school. School had set off on a school outing. Given the rather robust nature of some of the kids at our school, we should have had a police escort to keep us in check. The trip was described as a ‘Mystery Tour’. You get on the bus and have no idea where you are going. They were popular in Yorkshire and I remember mum going on a few with her bingo chums. Dad would do his own mystery tours but usually always in the local pub for some reason.
Anyway the 4 coaches set off just after the morning roll call. One coach for each year group. There should have been 5 coaches but one complete year group spectacularly all got banned from the trip. Something to do with the Headteachers desk being set alight and the words ‘Year Group 3 waz here’ graffitied in the vicinity.
So the bus convey set off with our rust bucket at the rear. All went well for an hour until we got stuck in traffic and lost touch with the other vehicles. Here is where the plan started to unravel. The young reserve teacher had as much idea of the our final destinations as we did. Unfortunately the bus driver was equally in the dark. Apparently he was a very late substitution as well and assumed the teacher would know. His instructions had been to follow the other buses and if he lost touch, one of the other drivers would wait for him or just ask the teacher……. They BUSES DID NOT WAIT……
So we aimlessly drove around the countryside for a couple of hours. No sign of the other buses. This was an era in human history before mobile phones had been invented. The only Red Public Phone Boxes we encountered were out of order. When we did find one that was working the teacher ran out of coins waiting for the person who had answered the phone to go and locate the headteacher.
Eventually the complete mystery trip was abandoned and we headed back to school. Unfortunately soon afterwards the rust bucket bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. A kindly passing farmer helped fix the poorly bus. But it took a couple of hours. So we all sat by the side of the road and ate our packed lunches. As a rain shower passed through, a beautiful rainbow appeared over the hills. The young teacher asked the year group if they could remember the colours of the rainbow. Unfortunately some of the kids were long since past caring about education. I remember a young angelic voice booming out across the landscape.
‘F### Knows, I’m cold, I’m eff*** bored and Tommy has just tipped Vinnies Tizer all over the floor’
A fight then broke out as the chastened teacher kept his head down and ate his sandwich.
We did eventually make it back. Strangely our year group was banned from the next outing. Can’t say I was exactly upset about that when we found out where that was heading to. The beach in winter. Saltburn, otherwise known as The Yorkshire Winter Siberia…. At least we didn’t have to turn the headteacher’s desk into ashes to get out of that tropical delight.
Maybe it’s just Hawklad’s Secondary School (11-16 age) but what happened to School Trips. Ok a Pandemic hasn’t helped but even before that kicked in, where are the school outings. At his last school they would go out once every term on a school trip. Always to places that supported a current learning objective. Trip to places like castles or Viking sites that fitted in with History. Trips to churches and mosques to support RE. Trips to plays to support English and Drama. Trips to the countryside to look at Geographic Features. Trips to local science labs to foster interest in Science. Trips to Sporting Venues to encourage PE. It’s been so different at his current school.
Before the Pandemic kicked in NOT ONE educational school trip out for Hawklad. A few pupils got the chance of a trip to France to see war sites, but spaces were limited. With so much available on the schools doorsteps. So much History, Geography, Science, Religion. Why don’t the school use it. One of the best learning tools is surely to put the textbooks down and actually experince what your learning about. To see, touch, smell the subject.
Why am I always so at odds with modern schooling in Britain. Surely there is more to education than just trying to increase the length of the school day and reintroduce Victorian discipline into the classrooms.
Some blue sky is always welcome here. Ok it might only last for a couple of hours before the next rain clouds roll in, but it’s still most appreciated. Especially when the days are filled with much frustration and road blocks.
A couple of hours is enough time for a mini adventure.
Been at out home for a couple of decades now. Life has happened over that time. Seen 6 cars, 5 UK Prime Ministers, 2 Pandemics and something like 460 Simpson episodes. And now we can add 1 hidden lake.
Almost from day one the local map showed up an expanse of water on one side of the village. In all those years we never found a way to get to it. Until now. Sometimes you just have to live on the edge. Be a rebel without a cause or maybe without a clue. Time to ignore some PRIVATE signs. Pay back for a tractor dropping mud outside our garden gate over all those years. Jump a few farm fences and finally get to see the Hidden Lake. It might have only lasted for a few minutes but it was worth it. It’s good to have adventures some days.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 