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Singing

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.”

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I don’t get….

There are many things in life that I DON’T GET.

  • I don’t get U2
  • I don’t get Car hill Starts and reverse parking
  • I don’t get Beetroot or Cauliflower or Brussels Sprouts
  • I don’t get why Avatar was so popular and I certainly don’t get why you would start to make several sequels of it
  • I don’t get sewing
  • I don’t get why parents don’t get daily free chocolate as a pick me up
  • I don’t get why Captain Scarlett never ended up being as big as The Thunderbirds
  • I don’t get rhubard
  • I don’t get why the brilliant Stephen Fry has never been cast as James Bond
  • I don’t get baking
  • I don’t get how Princess Leia could suddenly fly in space
  • I don’t get why William Shatner never followed Ronald Reagan into the Whitehouse
  • I don’t get Brexit
  • I don’t get why anyone would vote for a political party led by Boris Johnson
  • I don’t get why DC never used the hit song Holding out for a Hero as the theme for Superman
  • I don’t get how people can read the 1000 odd pages of Stephen Kings ‘IT’ and honestly claim they have the faintest idea what is going on
  • I don’t get why how Alvin and the Chipmunks gets multiple movies yet the Penguins of Madagascar only get a solitary one
  • I don’t get Pop Tarts
  • And I certainly don’t get why a supermarket gluten free bread loaf is half the size and 6 times the price of a standard loaf

But I do get somethings. I get beauty when I see it. I definitely get why I stopped the car in this lane to take this photograph.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 46 Comments

Star

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…..”

And 0% table tennis star.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 49 Comments

Hyper

The scene from last nights late Hawklad walk. A scene of apparent calm. It doesn’t paint the mayhem which accompanies taking Captain Chaos for a walk. Someone gets hyper on his walk. As he is the most hyper dog in Yorkshire at the best of times, that’s a shed load of hyper….

But it’s not just walks. Most things can send him hyper.

Me trying to tidy up the garden is up there on the hyper league table. Maybe it’s the novelty factor, the garden doesn’t get the attention it deserves….

So today as I tried to weed it was the usual pet mayhem. Helpful frantic digging. Burying anything he can find. Rolling in anything resembling dirt. Crazed running around in circles. That kind of thing.

Then a break. A dog walker walking across the distant fields. A distraction. Much barking. So I had better make the most of this. So I did 5 minutes of rapid weeding, manic digging and rushed raking.

Job done.

One slight problem. Don’t let your mobile fall out of your pocket when your doing speed gardening. Finally only located when I phoned it. Couldn’t hear it ringing inside. But the second phoning attempt, and an usual ringtone coming from the garden rubbish bin.

That could have been a disaster as the bin collection day is tomorrow. Just goes to show the risks inherent in gardening. Might give it a miss for a while now.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 72 Comments

Chef…..

Somebody is happy..l

Once a muppet always a 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….

Luckily the second pie found was a better fit…….

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Cricket

Daffodils still going strong here.

A few years back before parenting happened I played for a little village cricket team. They had a lovely tree lined cricket ground. Sadly the land was sold and they had to move. They moved to some land set on a sea cliff, right next to the edge. After every storm one side of the pitch shrunk by an inch or so. Washed out to sea. It was usually really cold. Not a tree in sight. On the other side of the pitch was a water treatment facility. Get a wind from the West and the smell brought tears to your eyes.

The actually pitch wasn’t exactly flat more like a mountain range….. And every April at the start of the season the outfield was covered in Daffodils.

It seemed that all our fears about the move were justified.

The cricket team was allowed to use the field by the local landowner for free. The two rules he insisted on was that he got a game for the team and as he liked Daffodils, we weren’t allowed to cut them back even if they started growing on the pitch. So yes we played around them. Made the game different. Took a lot of getting used to. But soon we got used to the change. And actually it was FUN. To the point that when the daffodils died back, we missed them. The game didn’t seem as good. Yes it was cold but the view over the sea was stunning. Even the Water Treatment Centre worked out great. They started sponsoring the team and soon we started getting brand new gear.

That’s the thing, change doesn’t have to be bad thing. Often change works out just fine and in fact can improve life. Improve it in ways you just can’t visualise before it happens.

Yes we can do this.

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Sunday

Had one of those moments last night. One which seemed to contradict the very fabric of scientific thinking as we know it today. Could this really happen to someone after millions of years of evolution of the species.

I couldn’t sleep. 4am in the morning. Sleep wasn’t coming tonight. I had given up trying and had headed into the kitchen to make a hot drink. I started singing a Beatles song to pass the time as the tea bag brewed away. Suddenly a woman’s voice. Am I going mad. Must just be me. I started singing again and there again was that woman. A definite female voice. This time asking if I was alright. A secret lover (that secret it would have been news to me)…. A ghost!!! I ran out of the kitchen and slammed the door shut.

This morning looking back. What a pillock…. Spooked by the helpful Amazon Alexa app.

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Fame 2

It’s funny how you forget things. A couple of days back I was writing about my lame brushes with fame. Then this morning another memory flooded back into my mind.

My Dad took me on a train to see a charity cricket match. My first ever game. I think I was about 8. It was one of those matches with former cricketers, celebrities and a few local club players. It was a decent turnout of stars so a large crowd turned up.

Some quite well known former Yorkshire and England players with one huge star. One of England’s greatest ever fast bowlers and larger than life characters, Fred Truman.

At the end of the game my Dad told me that I would like to get Fred’s autograph. That was news to me….. Handily Dad had brought an autograph book and pen. Almost as if the autograph was for him…. So I was sent off to obtain the signature while Dad finished off his beer. A bit later I came back with various scribbles, one was definitely a TV celebrity – Leslie Crowther. But no Freddie.

That clearly wasn’t to Dad‘s liking and he decided to help me now. After much looking Freddie was located. He was in the players changing room. Next thing I knew Dad had pushed me through the door with clear instructions. Your not going home until you get that signature….

I was surrounded by men in various states of undress…. All appeared to be drinking. No sign of Freddie. So I asked. Freddie was in the showers. So yes I did get the great mans autograph. When he was completely naked. How could I forget that…..

Dad was happy. I never did see MY autograph book again….

Wow how times have changed……

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Trying

Sunny but cold. Cold we are used to, sunny feels like a pleasant change.

Spot the photobombing bug.

How can hand stands be so difficult. I have been trying to do one in decades. As apparently I’m hundreds of years old well then that’s a lot of decades of failure. Today joined the long line of those. But what chance do I have. I can’t even balance on one leg (somedays two legs is even beyond me). I tried the old wall trick again. Slowly raise myself against a wall. Let the wall provide balance. All goes swimmingly. Well for about second. Then the gravitational pull on my excessively large bum takes over and I hit the ground. Somedays my backside feels like a villain in the Marvel movies. It is inevitable….

But I keep trying.

One day just maybe.

There is always hope.

I remember back in 2016 and thinking I’m never going to be able to do this single parenting gig. I’m going to collapse. And yes I have repeatedly fallen over. Can’t blame my inevitable rear ended for most of those….. But I’m kinda still here. Still trying. Still doing that parenting gig. You never know I might actually get it right one day. There is always hope.

Now let’s have one more go at a handstand.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 58 Comments

Brush with fame

I’ve had my brushes with the famous but on a really MINI scale

We were watching a silly comedy movie when one of the characters starting talking about all the famous people he had met in his life. Presidents, Popes, Hall of Famers, Astronauts….. you name it, everyone.

“Dad as you are about 50 times older than he is you must have 50 times as many famous encounters than he has…”

Sometimes even Hawklad can’t keep the smirk from his face before he has landed the verbal punch….

  • Ok here goes. My attempt to be 50x more exciting than that comedy character.
    • I once was smiled at by a beautiful international tennis star, kind of. We were walking in a small town in Switzerland when Anna Ivanovic walked past me and smiled at me…. Well actually she smiled and waved at the blue eyed toddler who was holding my hand. But that counts.
    • Years back I was out for a run when a bus pulled up and this rather familiar looking lady stepped out and asked if I knew the way to the local concert venue. I gave her the directions and it wasn’t until later that I passed the venue and saw the poster. Thankfully I had correctly directed Alison Moyet to the venue.
    • The former 6ft4 England Rugby captain once stood on my toe while I was waiting for strawberries at Wimbledon. I think the price of the 5 strawberries was far more painful than the trodden toe.
    • I was training at a gym in York when the world snooker champion came onto the mat next to me to do sit-ups. Bizarrely Ronnie O’Sullivan had a broken leg…..He was playing in a major tournament in the city.
    • At school we played cricket against a boy who would go on to be a fast bowler for England. Paul Jarvis. We lasted 4 overs as a team and got bowled out for 11. I bravely scored 8 of them. Two boundaries. Actually both were attempts to keep the 90mph ball from hitting me in the head. Paul Jarvis got 8 wickets. One lad refused to go out to bat. My claim to fame is that he never got me. I was bowled out by a spotty face kid who was barely strong enough to hold the cricket ball. He slowly bounced the ball down the pitch, I took the biggest swish with bat, missed and on the fourth bounce the ball trickled sadly into my wickets.
    • I once got the former European footballer of the year, Kevin Keegan to sign my arm. I didn’t have any paper…
    • Peter Ustinov walked past me once.
    • Some of the cast of the hit TV show Auf Wiedersehen, Pet stood next to me at a bar before a Newcastle United game.
    • I once patted the backside of the famous racehorse Red Rum.
    • When I was at college I picked up the courage to ask this girl to dance with me at a nightclub in Middlesbrough. She unsurprisingly said NO. But one minute later she said yes to an international footballer. Bernie Slaven.
    • Michael Caine might have or might not have sat at my work desk when a spy movie did some filming one weekend at the computer firm I was working for.
    • In my very early 20s I had been visiting friends in London. It was early Monday morning and I was making my way back home. I was stood on the tube platform looking an absolute state. Long, uncombed hair, unshaven, metal T-shirt, holes in my tight jeans. Next to me was this immaculately dressed old man in a pin striped suit and bowler hat. He kept giving me one of those LOOKS. The great unwashed look. That chap was Enoch Powell. A famous politician. Former Member of the Government. The person who made one of the most infamous and racially charged speeches in British political history. Clearly he wasn’t impressed with me. Which is ok as I was giving him a real Paddington Bear stare back…..

    That’s it. That’s my encounters with the Presidents and Popes of the world. Took me about 2500 years to do achieve all this. But it’s my own brush with fame….