It’s no secret that I have fallen out of love with my country. I don’t like what it is becoming. I don’t like the way it’s run. I don’t like the corruption. The inequalities. The new values we are supposed to sign up to. I hate the xenophobic outlook. I constantly seem to be at odds with a sizeable portion of my fellow citizens.
But is it just me .
“Dad if we win the lottery can we leave England.”
Why?
“England is going down hill. It has been for years. It’s becoming ugly. I’m European but I’m not now allowed to be. I didn’t get a say in that. The country has no future the way it’s going. It’s stuck in the past. Our leaders are racist, law breaking clowns as corrupt as any in our history. I’m ashamed to call myself English now.
I can’t disagree with you sadly. Where might you want to move to.
Switzerland. If they won’t have us then Germany or France or Italy or . I would go to Canada, or America or New Zealand. Anywhere apart from here.
What’s the definition of a mad dog. Definitely one that has worked out how to climb onto the kitchen work tops, pinches a box of tea bags and then sprints around the garden scattering tea everywhere. Definitely top canine entertainment for the mad one.
After that mad 10 minutes then there could only be one record I played as I sat down to do some work. Yes a bit one music perfection in the form of one of Yorkshire’s finest. Joe Cocker is sadly missed.
This is one if my oldest records. I accidentally pinched it from one of my older siblings. They never noticed all those years ago, so I’m probably safe now. My kind sibling bought it in 1970. I kind of acquired it around 10 years later….
They don’t make them like this anymore. Gatefold with full size poster.
Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun…..
Well we have a mad dog. We have an Englishman. Still waiting for the sun sadly……
I’ve just listened to the lead BBC Political Editor basically say that British voters are not interested in questions about the PM honesty. They don’t care if he is corrupt or not. To them it’s just tittle tattle. What they care about is that how he is delivering Brexit for them, how he is keeping them safe from Covid and how he is one of them.
Excuse the words ….. what utter #########. Clearly the Political Editor doesn’t speak for me….
That’s the thing in life. Something I’ve noticed as the years have passed. I haven’t found many who I feel get me. Who understand me. Who can speak for me. Even those who should be closest to me. Family, partner, many friends. Do they really get me. Why don’t they see how I see things. Do they really understand me. They might but is that more what they want to see or feel. Probably not. That’s just human nature. I’m probably exactly the same with most other people. It will be the same for all of us. If your lucky you might find at least one person who does get you. And to set the record straight that is most certainly not The Prime Minister or the BBC Political Editor……
Three years since I last stood here. Lindisfarne, a tidal island off the Northumberland coast of North Eastern England . Otherwise known as Holy Island. A place with a rich religious heritage dating back to 635AD.
It’s such a beautiful and evocative place. We would regularly visit here as a couple, as a small family and now as a family of two.
Saint Aidan came from Iona to found a monastery here. Iona is a small island of the western coast of Scotland. He must have liked wind and rain. Shall we say both islands are a tad exposed.
It’s a place I’ve always wanted to move to. Cut off from mainland for large parts of the day. Feels like you are surrounded by the vast open water on all sides. No escape from the unique feel and smell of the sea. A great place to think and breathe.
Not great for the waste. I would live off Fish and Chips…..
I’m talking about this as my mind wandered today. Hawklad is getting older. Won’t be many years before he is 18. Where did that time go. If he’s Independent then MAYBE I will need to find a new place to live. He’s always talked about never moving. So it might be be packing the bags. How knows maybe the bags will head here.
But it’s such a feeling. Such a big step. The thought of potentially starting again
Music has always been important to me. Even from a really young age I would love listening to my much older siblings playing their records. My first ever record was a single my sister bought me. It was a classic. Wait for it…..
Pinky and Perky singing Yellow Submarine and Those Magnificent Men in a Flying Machine. 😂😂😂😂😂
After that I slowly started building up a reasonable collection. Normally acquiring the occasional record from my siblings. I wasn’t picky, quite happy with their castoffs. By the time I was at college it was a hefty rock and metal collection. But then disaster. A house move left no available space, so some records were given away and the rest stored in my mums garden shed. A bad storm and flood destroyed much of the remaining records. A few survived.
Since then it’s been a slow rebuilding exercise. So let’s see what I can find in the metal cases now…. not taking any risks this time.
A newish record is first out of the case. Tin Machine. This one makes me smile. Back in 1991 I was going out with a girl from Newcastle and we had tickets to see the Moody Blues in a few weeks time. I was pottering around in the city one afternoon when I came across a queue outside a small concert hall/night club. Bizarrely many people in the queue had David Bowie shirts on. A polite enquiry revealed that Bowie’s current band was going to play this small venue on the same day as the Moody Blues concert. You didn’t get the chance to see Bowie everyday of the week and certainly not in a little venue like that. So I joined the queue and luckily got two tickets. We never did see the Moody Blues… Funny thing was the girl I was with was a massive Bowie fan so I kept the tickets secret. She only clicked on when we arrived at the Mayfair and I showed her the tickets. And yes Bowie was mesmerising.
The next record out of the case is an old one. It came from Hawklads Granny. She was having a clear out and wanted rid of her handful of records.
You know it’s a few years old when it comes with the following helpful label….
The thing about this box set is that it’s never been played. After all these decades. Never played. I think Hawklads granny bought it to get the music sheet booklet that came with it. She played the cello. Maybe it’s never going to be played.
And then the last one out of the case tonight is bizarrely the newest record in my collection. I’ve actually bought vinyl this year. Now virtually all of my records are rock and metal. A couple of classical records like the one above have been passed onto me. I’ve only ever bought rock or metal. Until now…..
Yes I have to come clean. I’ve bought a Taylor Swift record. That’s my metal head credentials blown out of the window. So can you keep a secret…..
“Dad what do you think about this question. It’s RE and I have to draw a family tree. Show the current connections. Then describe the familyrelationships. Then talk about what the various religions might say about our family.”
####So we cracked on for 10 minutes. One current family tree was down on paper.####
“Dad it’s a bit thin. Look at the example one and then look at mine.”
The example one is all about quantity ours is about quality.
“Dad should I add in those family members not hereanymore. That would fill the tree out.”
You can do anything you want. Why not just use our much reduced tree. It is how it is. Your just answering the question. Putting my old ‘at school’ head on, it might mean less to write about.
“I could include the pets….”
Why are you chuckling.
“I could then write aboutour extended family. If we didn’t explain that some of the names are pets then I could really make our family sound weird.”
Yes I dread to think of some of the things you could write about. The stories you could tell about the cat and dog…
*************************
But here’s the thing. Isn’t it about time that schools updated some of their teaching materials. Many children will not come from the classic family structures listed in the textbooks. How hard is it for a child to look at the set images when they may come from a broken home, or has a single parent, or has lost a parent(s) or has no brothers or sisters, or has a family set up which is different to the traditional view or has no family. Surely we can come about with learning materials that are a lot more sensitive to the needs of ALL children.
A lovely day to spend time in our garden. If you take the time there is always things to see. Always things to fill the heart. All things to be thankful for. A time to think and smile. Time to hum and sing a little. Sing a bit of KISS.
Rock and Roll All Nite……
“Dad please stop….”
Don’t you like my singing
“Is that what it is”
My voice is a thing of beauty
“No it’s not Dad. It’s like 2 nuclear bombs going off in my eat drums at the same time.”
Distinctive then
“More like painful”
My voice has been passed down the generations. Millions of years of evolution has honed it to what it is now.
“A weapon Dad. That’s what it is. So yes millions of years of evolution. Survival of the fittest. That type of weapon is going to guarantee survival.”
How bad must I be at table tennis if I managed to hit one ping pong ball out of the garden. Bearing in mind the next garden is about 5 yards behind where we had placed the table. AND there is an 8 ft hedge in the way as well..
Seriously this ball was travelling with such a trajectory that NASA gave it a spacecraft name and it had to re-enter the earths atmosphere on its way down….
“Dad, REALLY…….”
Sorry
“Dad are you going to get that ball from next doors then”
Yes I am
“I’m really worried. Some of my genes came from you”
One or two. You know who to blame if you get a hairy backside.
“Are you sure your not related to Homer Simpson….”
There is a striking resemblance. Especially from side on… Homer is way better looking and shades the intelligence
“If I ever get a DNA test it’s going to show 25% English, 15% Welsh, 10% German and 50% muppet…..”
Thursday night is chip night here. When we moved into this little house on the hill two decades ago we quickly found out the real pace of village life. The ultimate highlight of the week here was the Thursday night visit from the mobile chip van. It parked in the road 50 yards from our house. Rapidly the tradition of Thursday Chip night was set. Eventually we even discovered that the new mad dog was also a chip monster. His favourite food.
A pandemic then happened.
Suddenly Hawklad was not comfortable with getting chips from the van. So we stopped being part of the chip social. But the tradition lived on. Now replaced with oven chips. A vegetarian pie for me and skinless sausages for Hawklad. And yes a small plate of chips for the mad one.
So last night was THURSDAY. Time to dine like royalty. Well that was the plan. If you look back a few months you will see a certain muppet falling fowl of the crime of not labelling freezer items. Guess what happened last night. No pies were available from the store so it was time to root around in the deepest recesses of the chest freezer. Success a fine looking pie. Maybe a mushroom one. Maybe a Quorn one.
Chips and a pie smothered in Tomato Ketchup, salt and vinegar. Result…..
The reality sweet cherry pie is and interesting taste sensation when combined with vinegar and ketchup. Heston Blumenthal eat your heart out….
That snow shower is coming to get us. Better get a move on with this game of outdoor table tennis.
Thankfully I lost just in time.
What happened to the days when I would let him win. Build up his confidence. Do that parent thing. It’s all change now. Now it’s just about me salvaging any shred of self respect possible. A dad who was once a sporting King who is now one of the oppressed. Beaten down. Defeated. Can’t win a thing.
Time moves on.
Time moves on in a good way.
Sign that this parenting gig might just be working.
I do hope so.
A first walk for son outside. Ok it was late at night. Yes it was only 1 minute on the deserted road. Full decontamination when we came back. But it’s a start. The first time in over a year. As his health professionals point out. Until he can go into a busy cafe. Sit down and be at ease having a drink surrounded by people. Until he gets to that stage a return to school is out of the question. Will it be just in time for the end of this school year. Will it be just in time for a return before the end of 2021. How knows but it’s not a question of just in time. It will be in HIS time.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 