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Autocorrect

Am I the only person who has been infected with the crazy predictive text virus. The other day I tried to type Shaun the Sheep. Helpfully my predictive text modified that to Shave the Sheep.

Predictive text is brilliant. It usually does a wonderful job of correcting my appalling spelling and grammar. Unfortunately it is still not advanced enough to sort out my Where, were, we’re, there, their, they’re nightmares. It’s wonderful for those with dyslexia – why our son’s current school switches it off is beyond me.

So yes it is one of our great modern inventions. But mine has developed its own personality. Remember Skynet in Terminator. A slightly cunning, playful one. It does like to embarrass me.

  • On an important report which went to Area Commanders it decided to call them Arse Commanders,
  • I have to frequently email someone with the name Dobbs. I don’t know how many times I’ve called them Dons,
  • It has issues with names. It embarrassingly drops the r from my name. A work colleague called Jock is frequently referred to as Joke. And a friend called Jono becomes Bono (wouldn’t wish that on anyone),
  • Turnkey solutions becomes Turkey solutions,
  • Referring to someone as a Pillock morphs into a Pill Keep,
  • I entered a competition to win a big TV. Strangely I didn’t win when it changed my answer Gollum to Volume.
  • Maybe the autocorrect has got used to me drinking coffee but every time I start to type the words expression or express it changes them to espresso,
  • I was typing about a particular politician who I found to be very phoney. Unfortunately this came out as I found him very bony,
  • It’s definitely a little morbid as it loves to change Dear to Dead,
  • It clearly has a low opinion of our PM as his name always comes out as Boring Johnson,
  • And yesterday while responding to a comment about Tom Jones and throwing my underpants at him. I tried to say that my underpants where Locked and loaded ready to the thrown. Oh no my predictive system changed it that to my pants where Licked and loaded. Oh the shame.
Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 72 Comments

Three

2020 currently is very three orientated. My football team got beat three nil at home. They had to use up all three substitutes before half time because of injuries. Then quickly found out that three substitutes was not enough as another player had to go off due to injury as well.

I got three bills in the post today.

I phoned up for a Doctors appointment and was told I had to wait three weeks for the first available slot.

Currently I am missing 3 running socks. Paddington Bear Stare towards Captain Chaos. So for my next run I can choose between a red running sock or a blue running sock or a white running sock. I think the red and blue combo with be best.

We have three gerbils. They are super friendly and also rather fascinating. If I could ask the three chaps (hope they are three of the same sex) one question it would be

Why when I put cardboard and wooden tunnels in your cage do you always put the smaller tube inside a larger one. Even when I put them on opposite ends of the cage why does one end up in the other within a few minutes.

As my gerbil vocabulary is so poor I guess I will never find out the answer to this first burning question of 2020. But I can’t leave this post on such a unresolvable cliffhanger. Apologies for the early contender for the most rubbish link of the year. As I’ve got over my initial New Years Blues and in the absence of an answer from the three rodents maybe it’s time for a few lists of three from 2019.

3 Biggest Fears that came true

  • School giving up on son
  • Boris Johnson becoming PM
  • Governments/The U.N. paying lip service and kicking into the long grass the momentum for change generated by the likes of Greta Thunberg

Best books read

  • Jean Lee – Nights Tooth
  • Stephen King – The Institute
  • Blake Crouch – Recursion

Best 3 movies of 2019

  • Avengers End Game
  • Horrible Histories – The Movie
  • Godzilla

Best 3 concerts

  • Alter Bridge/Shinedown
  • Kiss
  • Lynyrd Skynyrd

Best 3 albums

  • Alter Bridge – Walk the Sky
  • The Hu – The Gereg
  • Whitesnake – Flesh & Blood

Best 3 places visited

  • Kielder Water
  • Housesteads Roman Fort
  • North Yorkshire Moors Railway

3 Most helpful bits of advice from 2019 – kind of

  • Maybe bring your dog back when he’s calmed down a wee bit – dog training school
  • Just needs to work a bit harder to improve his spelling and handwriting – teacher
  • Lager is better for your teeth than lemon water – Dentist

Best 3 things which helped our son

  • Setting a goal for the number of new places to be visited
  • Rock music and concerts
  • Catching balls while bouncing on a trampoline

Craziest 3 things the pets did

  • Muddy paw prints on the ceiling – how is that possible
  • Boy Cat getting the award for being the biggest and heaviest cat on the Vets books
  • Captain Chaos burying one of my running shoes in the garden. Took me weeks to find it.
Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 73 Comments

Christmas Diaries 1

It’s been a grey moody day. It never once looked like clearing. At least it didn’t rain for a change.

The zero based hours contract gave me me three hours work today. For the next couple of weeks any work demands will be minimal. Not great for the bank account but it allows me to now focus on our son. So with a couple of days before the school breaks up – Christmas is about to start in earnest. So an early warning. You may get a few Christmas Parent Diary entries coming your way. Hopefully most will focus on the happy side of life. It almost certainly will feature a few cooking disasters. In fact let’s sort the first diary entry out right now.

So after the work dried up it and the grey run was completed it was time for a bit of baking. Time to make a stunning gluten free stollen cake. A few chaotic shopping trips had stocked up the larder with all the ingredients. This time it’s going to be baking heaven. Hang on a minute where’s the marzipan. As I love the stuff I bought 4 slabs worth. But where are they. Absolutely no sign. Don’t you just hate it when that happens. No problem I will just pop to the local store. Don’t stock it but they did have infeasible amounts of glazed cherries. So off to the supermarket. How can a supermarket run out of marzipan. How can the only other store reasonably close by also have none in stock. I gave up so let’s just make a Christmas cake. Three hours later I’m looking at a baking abomination. Crispy on the outside, undercooked on the inside and a ginormous sinkhole at its centre. The birds will eat well tomorrow.

So ends the first Christmas diary entry. But let’s do the diary preface now.

Christmas can be lovely and fun but wow can it hurt. It’s one of those times which naturally draws you to what you have lost. I was reading a blog which talked about this in such a haunting way.

All aboard! The holiday struggle-bus is pulling into the station, and I’ve got a ticket to ride.

That bus hit me yesterday. I was simply wrapping our sons presents up. Instantly I’m taken back a few years. Christmas music on. A couple of glasses of wine. My partner a ninja master at unwinding the cellotape and securing the edges of the wrapping paper. Unbelievably I was an expert at finding the best way to wrap the presents up. The perfect production line. So effective and so loving.

Now I sit on the floor with a tea and whatever is on the radio. To be honest I’m not listening. The presents are still being wrapped well but the cellotape has won the battle royal. It’s wrapped around my fingers, on my clothes, stuck to furniture and yet refusing to go anywhere near the wrapping paper. Love and happiness replaced with frustration and sadness. It’s never going to be like it was. That love is not going to be replaced. Those shared dreams are binned. It’s a truly sickening feeling.

It’s so easy to forget that this can be such a tough time for so many you are bereaved. For so many in pain. For so many without anything. For so many who are lonely. My heart goes out to you. You have a soulmate here.

Yes over the next few weeks this blog might get a bit silly. I really hope it does because it shows that I’m doing my only important job. Trying to make Christmas as fun as possible for our son. But underlying it will be someone still grieving what has been lost. My hope is that some of that Christmas magic which hopefully is enveloping our son will rub off on me. Showing that you can grieve but it’s still possible to have fun. If it works for me I really prey it’s rubs off on you as well.

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Mind wrestling

Yorkshire weather. Good running weather. Why would I want to run in dry warm windless conditions. Well that’s what I tell myself. Maybe I’m like Count Dracula. I would turn to dust in direct sunlight. I wonder what I would do if someone offered me the chance though.

I’m mind wrestling with something at the moment. My partner was an epic traveller. She visited so many countries. It was her extravagance. From her late teens she would save up during the year for one great adventure. Family and her adventures was what she lived for. The adventures only stopped when we became a family. Her dream was that when our son became older we could have adventures together. The two places she always talked about was New Zealand (would have been her first time) and Chile. She always said that we would all love Chile.

Then life happened.

I really want to complete those journeys for her. Our Autism World may preclude that. Circumstances may preclude it. But we will see. I most admit a part of me doesn’t want to do those trips. It’s just not right that it would only be the two of us.

Sorry I digress. Back to my mind wrestling. So many adventures and so many photographs. All sat neatly and well organised in carefully stored albums. Here is the dilemma. Part of me wants to do a retrospective photo journal. Tell her travel story. Her trip to the Soviet Union (gives you an idea of the timeframe) maybe would be a great starting point. YET another part of me recoils at the idea. What if she hates that idea. What if I’m breaking some unwritten bond of trust. It’s like having two competing voices on either shoulder each shouting differing viewpoints on life.

She’s not here anymore. What’s the problem!

YOU KNOW SHE WOULD SAY NO. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT THIS!

But this feeling is something I’ve grown used to over these three years. On virtually every major decision I have these doubts. ‘What do I want to do’ balanced against ‘what would she do’. I try to see the world through my eyes and at the same time through her eyes. Problem is that we were two completely different characters. We each had our own unique take on the world. We would frequently disagree on the right answer. Often we would compromise. I’m still trying to compromise now. Yet I can’t replicate her thought process. I never could and I never will. I’m probably getting her point of view completely wrong. But I still do it.

Maybe other people do this. Maybe it’s just me sinking further into cabin fever.

So am I going to publish this travel journal? I don’t know. WE still haven’t decided.

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Changes

Apparently this year I’ve blogged 157,000 words. OMG. That’s an awful lot of drivel. So I’ve been thinking about making changes to the blog. Even about maybe deleting it. But in the end my urge to dabble has changed direction. Going to try and see if this great quote works. So today I have started a linked instagram account. Given it a really sexy name bereaveddad. I know a few of my friends here have similar accounts. I will try to follow you over the next few days. Please let me know of you have one and I will follow you.

Hopefully over the next week I will try to set up a Twitter account as well.

This world needs more mundane rubbish.

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Terrible Poetry

It’s time for a bit of the weekly Terrible Poetry indulgence run by Chelsea Owen. This week the guidelines are

  1. Topic: Plot twists. Lament about how often stories have them, include a few in your poem, or pull a fast one on us and keep the poem going exactly where we expect.
  2. Length: Since this is Bruce’s first time, let’s be nice to him and keep the word count under 200.
  3. Rhyme? Your call. Have fun with it!
  4. As the #1 rule listed at #4, make it terrible. I want Bruce himself, master of the macabre story twist, to shake his head in disbelief and secretly envy the part of the twisting Roman gutters in which your mind lies.
  5. Rating? For general audiences, keep things PG-13 or cleaner. Bleep it out if you really need to release a torrent.

******************************

Yoda was the all seeing Jedi Knight

Yet was fooled with a hood and a dodgie light

While Luke was being the Star Wars Galahad

Who honestly thought that Vader was his dad

Bruce Willis seemed the perfect host

But ended up being a sodding Ghost

Poor Liberty Valence ended up getting shot

By John Wayne that’s a strange train of thought

The Sting was a shock when Paul and Robert copped it

But it just ended up being a gigantic counterfeit

The Village tried to fool us with a bit of double play

But it ended up being set in the Present Day

Anthony Perkins seemed such a nice chap

Yet as Mum and a psycho he got me into a flap

Seven tried so hard to subvert

By having a Box in the desert

Vertigo was Very very bleak

Judy being Madeleine was a bit of a cheek

Who in the Murder on the Orient Express would be first to admit

But what a sneaky trick to have them all do seem do it

The Wizard of Oz seemed strangely certain

Yet the wizard was a sad bloke behind a curtain

Reservoir Dogs was as cool as a soda pop

Yet sneaked in that Mr Orange was in fact a cop

Wow Scream tried smoke and mirrors

All to hide we didn’t have one but two killers

Jacobs Ladder tried to hide the thread

Hang on a moment another one who is dead

Even poor Harry Potter tried to be as shifty as a Manx Cat

I never saw Peter Pettigrew was Scabbers the Rat

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Don’t look

If I don’t look will it go away…

Today in the post we got a Car Tax Reminder. Also the final notice for the House Insurance. That adds to the pile of bills on the desk. If I don’t look at the bills will they go away…

The side panel on the car is coming loose. If I drive over 30mph it starts to knock. The car is covered in a layer of mud – it should have a beautiful complexion when it’s cleaned. The inside of the car resembles a skip. If I don’t look at the car…

Son badly needs a haircut. It’s a combination of Shaggy and Cousin It. His school clothes are a little small for him now. Its the great end of school year parent dilemma – pay for new ones or battle on with the old. If I don’t look at his hair and his school uniform…

The chimney pot has a plant growing out of the top of it. When I say plant it’s big enough to be a sapling. No idea how I will get onto the roof to deal with it. If I don’t look at the roof…

On the desk I have another report to complete for our son. 32 pages. 52 different questions. Health and Education evidence required. If I don’t look at the report…

The garden looks like a jungle. A really unkempt one. The grass is that long the dog now disappears when he goes out for his morning constitutional. At least it hides the fresh mole hills. Nettles have taken over the borders. The weeds under the trampoline are now touching the mat. Could make the next bouncing session interesting. If I don’t look at the garden…

The washing is piling up. I always wanted to climb Everest. Well at this rate I might get the opportunity. Ok I probably imagined a slightly less wiffy Everest and one with not so many sock avalanches. If I don’t look at the washing…

The house is a battleground. Most of the curtains have been shredded by the cat(s). When I say curtains I could say sofa, beds, chairs, wallpaper, carpets, cushions. Most of the wood in the house has been chewed by the dog. Given the amount of wood in the house it kinda makes a dog heaven and a house which is becoming increasingly structurally unsound. Thats before we factor in the agents of doom – the Gerbils. If I don’t look at the house…

If I don’t look will that mad dog stop looking at me…

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It’s a fight

Life is a permanent fight for survival. That applies to plants. It applies to humans. It applies to me. It probably applies to you.

For me it’s a fight on many fronts

  • Depression
  • Grief
  • Isolation
  • School
  • Government
  • Health Providers
  • Finances
  • Stereotyping
  • Body
  • Tiredness
  • Workload
  • With myself

It’s never ending. As much as you try you can never apparently win. Often your best hope is to just keep in the game. Survive another day.

But the key is to try and talk. Sometimes that is easier said that done. It is so easy for someone to get lost. Cut adrift from society. Friends drop off the radar. Those you love and depend upon are taken from you. That’s when talking becomes a rarity. A quick chat with the postman the closest you get to outside world discourse. It just isn’t enough.

But thankfully we have another weapon available to us. Blogging…. It opens up a new way to talk. To listen. To seek solace. To meet new friends. To feel connected again. To weep. To get angry. To think. Maybe even to laugh.

It’s not for everyone. You sometimes hear the criticism. You may get the occasional critical email.

So to those who accuse some of us of just being attention seekers. Wallowing in our own self importance. Inflating our egos. Maybe you are right, maybe your wrong. But frankly I don’t give a fig. I have more important fights to pursue and for me blogging is now a vital part of my defence system. It helps to prevent me veering towards some very dark places.

Yes it’s a fight but a fight better shared.

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Yoga is not good for you

I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing. My new Yoga dvd arrived yesterday . So I eagerly tried to open it so I could see my stress levels tumble off me. Unfortunately it had been cellophane wrapped by Superman. Eventually I managed to slice open the wrapping and my thumb with the kitchen knife. Good start to my yoga career.

After applying plaster to cut thumb put yoga dvd into player and get an error message. Invalid dvd region – note to self seemingly very heavily discounted US disks are discounted for a reason here …. So onto the internet to find the code to unlock all regions on the player. Sods Law dictates that of the 100 models listed for our well known brand of Japanese Player ours is the one that is not listed. After randomly trying codes for many minutes I stumble across one that works.

The first solid piece of advice provided was to select a cd of some of your favourite music which you can play while following the routine. Do you think Motörhead would work….

So I started… 10 seconds later the phone rings. My sister.

10 minutes later we un pause the dvd and off we go again…. 1 minute later the doorbell rings. Do I want to buy some freshly caught Whitby Cod. Every few months the same bloke comes round trying to sell his so called fresh fish. Given we are 40 miles from Whitby I suspect the fish was more likely caught from the local Quick-E-Mart.

Few minutes later settled on my back in the bridge pose. Maybe pulse starting to fall…. unprovoked dog licking attack to the face …. dog banished to another room, face feeling distinctly tainted.

2 minutes later we again un pause the dvd…. and 2 minutes later the phone rings and keeps ringing. Another sister.

15 minutes later we try again…. we just settle into the cat pose when the doorbell rings again. I try to ignore it but then there is a knock at the window. Look up to see the Postman waving. After accepting a parcel for next door I officially give up more stressed than I started.

That is not what the DVD promised.

That is not what Yoga promised.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 25 Comments

Need a direction pointer

My old laptop is happily grinding away on a job which modern kit will do seemingly in an instant. However my laptop as it’s powered by several knackered small pixies is much less efficient. So time to do a post. But which thread to go down, quite a few to pick.

Then an idea.

Last night talking to son about chance and the story of the person who lived life by the toss of a coin. As son said “a poor copy of Two Faced Harvey from Batman”. So why don’t I let chance decide. But too many options for a coin. What else can I find which is random. Alexa.

Asking the ever helpful Alexa straight up to choose for me failed. Then another idea. When I ask her to select a track from from music library ….. that’s random. So the idea firmed up. I will ask Alexa to play a song and I can use song lyrics to guide today’s post. If it’s an instrumental than I will just post a photo no words. If it’s a French or German or Italian or Spanish language lesson then I will have to post in that language.

On the surface it’s a brilliant idea. Even if I don’t have an idea some of the artists will send floods of creativity coming my way. Imagine the possibilities opened by some of the lyrics by artists like Pink Floyd, The Who, Leonard Cohen, Rush, Bruce Springsteen, Genesis, Kate Bush…

But in life you need balance. So for every Robert Plant or Green Day you need a Ted Nugent to bring balance. Then my thoughts cascades to some of the less favourable lines I might be presented with.

“Only time will tell if we will stand the test of time” – Van Halen

“This sex is on fire” – The Killers

“Let me put my love into you Babe” – AC/DC

“You pull the trigger of my love gun” – Kiss

“Pink ’cause your so very” – Aerosmith

“Love is like a bomb, baby, c’mon get it on” – Def Leppard

“Bang you head against the stage like you never have before” – Metallica

“All right. It’s Zee Wango, Zee Tango” – Ted Nugent

“Kiss my ass” – Ted Nugent

“I let my dog hump on my shin” – Ted Nugent

“Wang Dang Sweet Poontang” – Ted again….

“Awwwww yup” – him again

“That tofu might just kill you” – and again him….

I have to admit even the greats have some odd moments with songs. See AC/DC. But also see the likes of Zeppelin with the Lemon Song. So with trepidation I ask Alexa to select.

But I’ve taken this long waffling my laptop has finished its task so need to get back to earning some money. So the

Next post will be based on this song ……