It’s been a while since I ran past here. Beautiful Castle Howard. Looking back at the dates on the photos it was February 2020.
I’m the kinda person who worries. Often imagine the worst things. All that can go wrong (not often looking at all that could go right). That Marvel Dr Strange thing. Endlessly going through all the potential scenarios. Well the bad ones. But back those 14 months as hard as I tried I would not have ever envisioned the crazy and awful events which did take place. A pandemic. Lockdowns.
So what is the point of worrying about what might or might not happen down the line. It doesn’t help at all in the long run. Especially as the worrying is not an exact science.
The other thing is that worrying just about the potential bad stuff misses all the potential great stuff that could happen. Even with the pandemic. It’s been dreadful but look at all the fantastic people who have stepped up and done wonderful things. The heroes helping others. The sacrifices many have been prepared to make for the greater good.
Going forward surely if I’m going to try and think about the future I would be better off starting first with all the potential good stuff that might happen. That sounds like a plan.
When this photo was taken I was in full on planning mode for what promised to be a staggeringly busy year for our little company. Just a few weeks later everything was cancelled.
A year later and it looks like some work is potentially starting to brew again. Summer and Autumn may see a few items hitting the to do list. I actually wrote my first official email in months this morning. How times have changed. Who would have thought that I would be writing the word ‘Biosecurity’ in an email. Thats this muppet officially using that word. WOW. That’s the kinda word that only entered my world in an episode of the X-files. Now it’s a reality. Yes the world has changed….
It’s almost goodbye to 2020. Well that was a year. I blame one person for everything…
Boris Johnson on the 31st December 2019 “This is going to be a fantastic year……”
What an absolute Numpty. I guess it was for him and his cohorts in terms of corruption and feathering ones own nest.
But for the rest of us it was a challenge. I could have used so many other words here but let’s go for the one I can spell. I’m not going to go on about the obvious things this time. Let’s just hope that 2021 is better. This year has not exactly set the bar that high but let’s not tempt fate. I will leave that up to our so called leader.
But here’s the thing about 2020. It’s been truly horrid and tragic for so many. It’s been tough for our little family but let’s also remember the positive stuff as well. So many people have demonstrated what a wonderful, caring and beautiful world it can still be. Old friendships have strengthened. It’s also brought truly wonderful new friendships which have enriched my life.
We can do this.
Happy New Year. ❤️
Families are funny.
I come from quite a big family. I’m the youngest of the brood. In many ways the odd one out. The one with the funny diet. The one who works out. The one outdoor person. The one that went to university. The one who is bereaved. The one single parent. The one Aspergers parent. The one who blogs. I could go on…..
Don’t get me wrong we are a loving family. No egos. No fights. No cross words.
We are geographically spread but would fairly regularly see each other. Would…..
Mum was the gravitational force that held us in orbit. The force that would bring us together. Now the gravity has gone. We don’t meet up much now. The links are now mainly phone calls and texts. 2020 has not helped. I’ve not seen one sister and my brother in over 2 years now.
But we are still loving and caring. But here’s the thing.
You can be loving without being close. You can be family and not share. Be caring without understanding.
I share things on this blog that my family never hear. If I need a shoulder to cry on I don’t turn to my brother or sisters. I turn to my closest friend(s). That’s were I’m best understood.
Yep families are funny.
I do like a good slice of cake. Like it just a little too much. Especially Christmas Cake. That’s with icing, that’s with marzipan, that’s with a slab of cheese, that’s au naturale. My family knows this. Every Christmas my mum would bake me a cake, my sister would do the same. Both most definitely knew how to bake a top cake. So every December I was well fed. Too well fed. That’s why this Thor like muscle structure hides under a Homer Simpson baggy exterior.
But times move on. Mum has now left us. But my sister still comes up with the goods every year. And then 2020 hit. Due to covid restrictions and Hawklads anxieties I’m not meeting up with my sister this December. So no chance of a cake handover.
That means one thing. One scary thing. I either buy one or I BAKE ONE. The bought ones are never as good as my family ones. So……
It’s baking time. I don’t have a good track record on the baking front. But there is always hope. Always a first time. So you have been warned. Things could get interesting here. You had better not stray too far from your panic room.
Another day and yet more mist.
It’s been one of those days when apart from Hawklad, I haven’t seen another member of my species. Not one person walking the fields. No one walking in the village. Not one soul. In fact I haven’t even see one moving car. With the mist no chance to see aeroplanes. Nothing. No sign of human life. Its officially a GHOST TOWN. Time to FROWN…
Well Ghost Village. Time to PILLAGE. That maybe is my Viking ancestry.
The only other option entering my frazzled mind is. Living in a Ghost Village. Better listen to some Steve Hillage. I once had one of his albums.
Anyway you get the picture. ISOLATION.
Definitely the perfect metaphor for 2020. ISOLATION and learning to really appreciate what I have. It’s definitely been a defining year. Sadly the year has done nothing for my poetry skills….
Been far too grey and misty over the last few days. Too much winter. So let’s have a little bit of summer. Yes Yorkshire does get some of that. Sometimes.
This is one of those great footpaths. A footpath across the crop field that the local farmer dutifully maintains. Not easy to get lost of this one. I always think it would be funny if the farmer built in a maze to this path. He could get hordes of walkers lost here for hours. Could be a nice little money earner for him. Send his sheepdogs in to rescue the walkers for a small fee.
In that photo if you keep going straight. Climb the hill. Keep going straight and in about 10 minutes you will crash into our overgrown garden. You could get seriously lost in there.
I feel a little lost today. I think many of us are. A little tired of Groundhog Day. Bored with 2020. Hours , days, weeks and months seemingly merging into each other. Having to constantly look at the date on my mobile and then check the calendar to work out where I am. Is it a Sunday? Not sure.
But there is always hope.
This time will pass. Directions will be rediscovered again. The farmer will work on his lovely straight path again.
I was conscious that this Christmas will be different for us, different for Hawklad.
No end of school term activities and parties.
No Carol singing in the city while drinking hot chocolate.
No Santa Train ride. Ok we are doing our own car version.
No Charity Santa coming through the village on a trailer pulled by a tractor.
No festive walks along the beach and finishing off at a little cafe for his festive ice cream.
No visits to friends.
No family meet-ups.
No trips to the Christmas Market.
No trip to the zoo in New Years Day.
No family Christmas meal.
No Boxing Day walk with picnic.
No festive trip to the cinema to see a blockbuster and then whatever festive film they have showing.
No carol singers coming round the houses on Christmas Eve.
Basically it will be just the two of us and pets. Sticking to the house and garden. Maybe only one trip out to do the Santa Car ride. I was feeling bad about that so I brought it up with Hawklad. I explained the differences to him
……. so it’s going to be really different this year. How do you feel about that Hawklad?
“So no family at all?”
“Absolutely no visitors?”
“No festive trips out?”
It doesn’t look like it.
“Dad, can we order in extra pizza over Christmas?”
“Well that will be just fine then…….”
That’s one of my favourite electricity poles. Why? Because when I used to run it was the first thing I saw when I got close to home again. Always a welcome sight.
I was thinking that after this trying year we could all do with a welcome sight or two.
For everyone that welcome sight will be different. For me what would it be….
Maybe a rock concert,
Maybe going to see my team get beat again at St James Park,
Maybe it’s the view from the top of a mountain,
Maybe it’s the Sea,
Maybe it’s seeing Switzerland again,
Or just maybe it’s seeing a friends smile in person.
Let’s hope that whatever that view is, you and I will see it in 2021.
One of my sister lives about 30 minutes drive in that direction. During 2020 it might as well have been 1000 miles. No chance of seeing her.
Where we live always feels like it’s so cut off from the world. Sometimes it’s so easy to forget that a city is not that far a drive away. It’s one of those rare cities that hasn’t allowed any high rise buildings. It hides easily away on the horizon.
That feeling of being cut off is helped by lack of kinks we have with the outside world. If you don’t want to use the car then it’s two small buses a day. Nothing on a Sunday. The village doesn’t have a pub, or cafe, or school, or shop. Not quite tumbleweed levels but definitely quiet and often feeling most definitely cut off. During a pandemic even the occasional rambler has become a real rarity. The only evidence that an outside world still exists is the fairly regular stream of passing cyclists. The challenge of climbing the steep hill to the village is attractive to those on two wheels. A climb I’ve not undertaken since a few weeks before the world changed for me in 2016.
A lots happened in those years. Thoughts of needing a sportier frame have morphed into ‘that ornament gathering dust is taking up too much space in the increasingly cramped garage’.
But things will change eventually. We won’t seem so cut off again. The bike will again become a means of transport. Trips to the city and my sister will recommence. Life will become connected again. Even for those living in the wilderness……