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Sharks

The daft things we say or I say.

I was about to quote a certain Star Wars catchphrase to Hawklad. Unfortunately I was still a bit distracted as I had just been to the kitchen to fetch some ice cream, so ‘let the FORCE be with you’ came out as ‘Let the FRIDGE be with you’. That would fundamentally change the overall ethos of the Jedi Order.

Then just a few minutes later…..

“Dad I can’t believe you said that”…

It will taste like chicken, everything tends to taste like chicken.

“Dad, it might work with meat but I asked what a pomegranate taste likes….”

That is a valid point. That old expression just popped into my head. To be fair I am from Yorkshire which explains many things. Round here if you stop your car for directions you run the risk of getting this helpful piece of advice, “Eh Lad, I wouldn’t be starting from here to get there…”

Is it just a Yorkshire thing…..

My mind wanders back several decades. I remember going on a Geography Field trip with school. We went to the seaside and found ourselves on top of a huge cliff. One lad asked the teacher, a right Yorkshire character, if we could follow the steep path down to the beach. This was at the time a certain big fish with teeth movie was scaring the pants off millions of cinema goers. The teacher replied “NO”. When asked why, the first excuse that popped into his head was

“Because of sharks…..”. The mad teacher must have realised just how daft that had sounded to a group of snotty nosed teenagers. Pointing down at the massive cliff face he calmly recovered his credibility.

“I’d like to see Jaws climb up that bugger and then try to bite me on the bum, stood up here. “

This mad teacher had lots of form, I think he deserves his own post one day. Anyway looking back all those years, my FRIDGE comment isn’t so bad now. But I guess cliff top Great White shark attacks are kinds rare in Yorkshire.

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Terrible Poetry

Somedays are more tiring than others. Some days are more stressful than others. Somedays the serious words don’t come. Somedays it’s best just be silly.

It’s been too long. Actually I can hear shouts of ‘not long enough’. But here goes. It’s Terrible Poetry time. The Bad Bard is back. All thanks to Chelsea Owens Terrible Poetry contest.

https://chelowens.com/category/contests/terrible-poetry-contest/

This time the rules are….

  1. Topic: The family pet, written Golden Shovel Style. Here are the rules for the Golden Shovel: Take a line (or lines) from a poem you admire. Use each word in the line (or lines) as an end word in your poem. Keep the end words in order. Give credit to the poet who originally wrote the line (or lines). The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the poem that offers the end words.
  2. The Length is up to you.
  3. As far as I can tell, Rhyming is up to you, too.
  4. Whatever, man, just make it terrible!Dredge up Fido’s memories and remains through the worst eulogy printed on Purina Puppy Chow. Set the still-living Princess Catarina howling in indignance. Send Horace the hamster spinning with rage.
  5. Let’s keep the Rating: PG or cleaner. How risqué do your animals get?

You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Thursday (February 3) to submit a poem to Chelsea.

So which classic poem shall we go for. Something poetic, something beautiful, something deep, something philosophical. Let’s go for a classic opening line that ticks all those boxes. Maybe Shakespeare, maybe Blake, maybe Wordsworth. Or maybe Philip Larkin, maybe his classic ‘This be the verse’ with its uplifting first line…..

‘They F**k you up, your mum and dad’

That’s me kicked out before I even start…..

So let’s use those poetic word gems do type an ode to Captain Chaos. Let’s make it Terrible.

His best buddy is a seriously fat cat, it’s far too quiet, where are THEY

They have just pulled the curtain off the wall, what the F**K

Now it’s on the floor, covered in hairs, well Thank YOU

Captain now thinks it’s great fun to try to hump the cat, that’s seriously messed UP

Even The Cap knows you can’t end a sentence with a possessive determiner like YOUR

But he is a clever dog with a great pedigree, a beautiful white Spitz is his MUM

He gets his intelligence, looks, fluffy hair and cunning from her AND

being a right ruffian, rogue, rascal and rampantly randy from his Cocker Spaniel DAD

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Weaponised Baking

It’s been a while. Too long. But fear not. Baking is back. As Spock would say, it’s baking Jim but not as we know it…. I like to call it Weaponised Baking.

I know so many of you wait for those Michelin Standard baking tips. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

So here goes.

I was about to bake a loaf of bread but I wanted to spice it up a tad. Maybe add some cheese, or a few Mediterranean herbs. But it just didn’t go far enough. What could I find in the fridge or cupboards which was game changing..

A few hours later we have……

I give you gluten and dairy free, no added sugar – BLACK FOREST FRUIT BREAD.

The end result, just a bit different from cheesy bread. The taste, well it’s different. As Hawklad described it

“Well it doesn’t taste poisonous, it’s a unique sensation. Its like my taste buds are being assaulted…..”

True weaponised baking…..

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Worries

There is something truly magical about a Walk in the Woods when the weather has closed in. It can be the start of so many stories and adventures.

A planned meet-up with my sister failed today. Hawklad agreed to go for it and then my sisters car went on strike. These things happen. A distraction would have been good. Just one of those days in which Hawklad’s anxieties spiked. When they hit, they hit in waves. Not just one thing, a range of things. When he gets kind of on top of one thing, two more jump in to replace them. Doesn’t matter that it’s Christmas Eve, these anxiety waves can hit at any time. They confuse his thought process. They cause him sensory overload. They stop him in his tracks.

I know what it’s feels like. I’ve been there as well.

Distraction sometimes works. Pacing about. Scooby Doo. Lego. Walks. But at some stage we have to work through the anxieties. Try to unpick them. Put them into context. Do what we can.

Slowly this time, the waves begin to subside. You can tell when he is getting there. The first signs

“Dad where is The Big Red Fella on Track Santa”

On his way to Madagascar apparently. He arrives in 7 minutes.

“I wonder just how many in England have been put on the naughty list this year”

It’s probably more a massive database than a list. You won’t be on it.

“Dad you are officially on the naughty list with that jumper of yours. Even Elton John wouldn’t wear that.”

I will have you know it’s a handmade Italian climbing sweater.

“Which they export for muppets like you to buy because no self respecting Italian will ever wear that.”

Harsh but fair….

“Why in earth is it about three sizes to big for you…”

I bought it when I was climbing in Wales years ago. My size was standard price but the garden shed size was 80% off. That’s a bargain I couldn’t turn down.

“But it’s far too big for you…”

It’s not that big….

“Dad there’s more room in that jumper than in our loft, a family of 4 could live in there”

That’s mostly down to all the weight I’ve lost on my diets…

“If only Dad….”

Ok. It is a tad big. I can change my T-shirt without taking it off. But I could give it to you. Think of it as a precious hand me down from father to son.

“Just NO. That would really give me something to worry about…..”

####he chuckled at that one, that’s a good sign###

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Sheep

The sheep are back. Must be time to dig out my old Pink Floyd – Animals LP.

The return of the sheep always makes me smile.

Memories.

A much younger Hawklad carefully feeding the sheep. Following the instructions from the farmer on which sheep liked which biscuits.

And yes that’s a puppy Captain Chaos.

Sometimes that wooden fence wasn’t keeping those sheep from those biscuits.

Sheep.

Then there was the first night in our home. My partner was watching the newly unpacked TV and I had come out into the crisp night air to look at the stars. Wow no light pollution here. No street lighting. Pitch black. So many stars. Then suddenly that sinking feeling.

I AM NOT ALONE…..

Somewhere near the fence dozens of eyes fixed on their prey. Me. I took it like a man. Screamed and ran inside, the door bolted behind me. As a modicum of courage returned, I tentatively ventured outside again with a torch and Slazenger cricket bat. I found dozens of sheep stood at the fence, all eyeballing me. Clearly saying ‘Where’s the biscuits..’ That was definitely the SHEEP OF THINGS TO COME. But I guess it was ALL’S WOOL THAT ENDS WOOL. I will shut up now. Don’t to RAM THE POINT HOME, I wouldn’t do that to EWE.

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Tired bread

The snow has gone but it’s still cold. It’s rush hour again here…..

In the Black Friday sales I bought a bread maker. I had just been looking for a couple of new loaf tins. It was a rush of blood. Thankfully a much cheaper rush of blood than it could have been. So far so good. Much easier and much much easier. Almost fool proof…….

It’s been a tired day today. Hawklad is tired of school, I’m just tired today. Shall I show you just how tired, tired is. I present to you Exhibit A. It’s a delicious and wholesome traditional French herbal loaf…..

That’s what a traditional loaf looks like when you don’t add any WATER. As the faint sweet slightly burnt smell filled the house my brain pondered what that could mean. My bread never messes up these days, certainly not with my bullet proof machine. Maybe it just means a slightly more crusty loaf. Maybe it’s just the herbs infusing the dough. At no stage did the tired brain think ‘Huston we might have a problem here…..’. At no stage did the brain encourage this Muppet to get up and check upon the baking disaster unfolding in the bread maker……

That’s tired or it’s just me……

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Tigers

Yorkshire does have its moments.

Here’s the thing, I almost missed that view. I have a habit of just looking straight ahead when I’m walking. As that view was behind me, it was lucky that I went out of character and I did glance back. Dad would be pleased.

I remember one relevant piece of wisdom which my Dad imparted on me when I was a LITTLUN. One day I was walking with him on the beach after he had stopped off to buy fish from the returning fishing boats. As we walked he pronounced that “I didn’t look behind me enough”. He was that kind of Dad, why just talk when a pronouncement could be made. When I asked why I needed to look back, his response will never leave me.

“You never know when you are being stalked by something like a Tiger…..”

Following my clearly bemused expression Dad quickly added

“Clearly it works as a tiger has never taken a chunk out of your Dads behind….”

I guess you can’t argue with the logic. A logic honed in the British Army as a Sergeant Major. Most of his service was in a land famed for Man Eating Big Cats. The tropical jungles of ICELAND….. But look at the evidence. No Tiger did ever attack my Dad on Redcar beach that morning. Further he avoided any unfortunate Tiger incidents for the rest of his life. Although I never did raise the fact that ‘my not looking back strategy’ had also avoided any Tigermageddons….. it wasn’t really worth raising things with Dad, he was born and bred in the heart of Yorkshire. Pointless arguing with anyone wearing a flat cap.

So yes, don’t forget to look back, you never know what you might be missing.

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Music and Concerts

The sun sets on another day.

Back in summer Hawklad asked if he could have something to aim for this year. Something fun. Anything other than a potential return to the classroom. So we agreed to take a punt on some concert tickets for December. Back in July, December seemed a long term goal. Now with weeks to go, it’s unremittingly approaching with pace….

There is still time but that concert still seems like a mighty step too far. He is still struggling. Still struggles to touch alien surfaces. Close contact with people is wracked with anxieties. He still can’t venture into shops, even for just a few moments. Inside with a thousand other people, very hemmed in, doesn’t seem practical or achievable yet.

But we always live in hope.

Tomorrow is a new day, yes it is (sorry borrowed that line from WWE wrestling….)

But we are lucky. We still have the open spaces of the Yorkshire countryside. We still have a quiet garden. Today we took our mind of that fast approaching target by thinking about a musical challenge we have seen others do online. So here goes Hawklad’s take on the questions.

First Concert – Hollywood Vampires (Johnny Depp, Alice Cooper, Joe Perry), The Darkness, The Dammed

Last Concert – The Darkness

Best Concert – Iron Maiden

Worst Concert – some bloke painting pictures on stage before Kiss…..

Loudest Concert – Kiss

Seen the most – Alice Cooper, The Darkness

Most surprising concert – Lynyrd Skynyrd

Next concert – The Darkness ???????

Wish I had seen them – David Bowie during the Ziggy Days

Top of wish list (can still see them) – Journey

Hawklad got two positive things from me. His eyelashes and his taste in music….. Ok time for his Gnarly Old Dad to have a go…..

First Concert – Whitesnake, Samson

Last Concert – The Darkness

Best Concert – can’t choose Tin Machine (David Bowie), Whitesnake (City Hall, Newcastle), Iron Maiden, Rory Gallagher, Pink Floyd, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Scorpions (supporting Deep Purple at Knebworth)

Worst Concert – Meatloaf with a broken leg, that bad he got bottled off stage. To be fair seen him twice more and he was really good.

Loudest Concert – Motörhead

Seen the most – Whitesnake

Most surprising concert – Tina Turner…. Ok that’s a big bad fib…. I took Hawklad’s Mum to see Ronan Keating (twice), whisper it, he was not bad at all.

Next Concert – The Darkness ???????

Wish I had seen them – Led Zeppelin or Leonard Cohen

Can still see them – AC/DC

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 37 Comments

Based on

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…..

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Outings Part 2

Whisper it. It’s Sunny in Yorkshire.

Sunny with the hint of rainbows.

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.