Garden Games, just so very SUMMER TIME..
Unbelievably our Yorkshire Garden has just about dried out. Time for a bit of Croquet. A simple, uncomplicated sport…. NORMALLY. Introduce a 4 legged LITTLE HELPER and mayhem ensues.
A helpful MOLE also adding some additional course features…
Sadly we haven’t seen too many of these visitors this year. Add that to the almost complete lack of Bees 🐝. Only a few years back our garden was mobbed by garden visitors but not anymore. Very worrying.
A few weeks back we had a day in the garden and we counted insects for a wildlife survey. You count the highest number of insects at any one time and the best we found was
2 Butterflies in the garden at any one time
0 Bees… ZERO, ZIP, we never saw one all day long
We have been doing this local survey for a few years now. The first time we did the survey, was before Covid, before a Trump President thing, we had the following scores
16 Butterflies at one time
14 Bees at one time
Not good, not good at all.
Sadly something which isn’t missing is the use of the death of a family member in TV and Movies, for dramatic effect. Fine, if it’s a drama movie but Kids stuff….. Two nights ago Hawklad was watching a random Disney type movie and without any warning the mum died. I could see the sadness in his eyes. Then today he’s watching a cartoon and guess what, the mum dies. He turned the TV off and went outside.
At least give some warning if the show is aimed at a young audience. Grief is tough enough without the likes of Disney adding to it.
A few minutes later, Hawklad came back in and quietly said “I’m probably going to stick to Tom & Jerry from now on”. I really can’t disagree with him on this one.
It was time to live life on the edge. We finally charged up one of Hawklad’s birthday presents, a remote control helicopter. Not one of the professional ones, this one was surprisingly tiny made out of what appeared to be the thinnest of plastics and the most brittle of metals. It was one of those Amazon ‘80% off’ deals that entices you in for that one extra present, yet never quite explains to you that basically there is a really good reason this thing is so CHEAP.
Anyway after a few months it was time to give this helicopter its inaugural and probably only flight. The instructions talked optimistically of 15 minutes battery flying time, yet it gave off the impression of a single use item. As Hawklad said
“Well if it’s going to crash and burn on its first flight, let’s make it spectacular and film it”.
He remembers….
This is not our first dabble into the world of remote control, cheap toys.
There was the rally car that split in two when it hit the apple tree.
There was the toy drone that launched itself over the house and imbedded itself in the neighbour’s drive. It ended up as flat as a pancake.
There was the first helicopter then smashed into the house at a Warp Speed 10 and smashed into a thousand pieces.
And there was the so called unbreakable hovering glowing ball that had one uncontrolled hop before it smashed into the fence. It was then definitely anything other than unbroken.
So we were understandably not very hopeful. But you know what. The helicopter actually flew. It hovered. It landed. Yes it had a few heavy landings but it SURVIVED.
It was unmarked when the batteries ran out. Here is the really cool bit that made me smile. Hawklad took the remote control and flew it himself. Normally he backs away and watches others take control. He often just watches me do it. But on this day he had confidence in himself. Yes I had to check that we were fully alone first but he did it. He enjoyed it.
And here is what I figured out. Actually this was the first time that he took the controls, the first time I could convince him to have more fun doing than just watching. The first time he could overcome his fears of failure. So what did I figure out then…..
I’ve had the controls every single time one of the toys has crashed and burned. Muppet Dad is a liability. Toys last when I watch and don’t play. OH PANTS.
So my job is now paying for things and then most definitely just filming when they are enjoyed…….
I was just a few steps away from this sea of purple. It’s was warm, yes Yorkshire can do that sometimes. Deep Blue Skies, rare but yes it can happen even here. So I decided to do the morning yoga (yep I’ve gone full on hippy) under the shade of the apple tree. I found a small patch of grass which hadn’t been dug up by our active tunnelling Mr Mole and off I went twisting, bending and groaning.
A few moments later the helpful yoga instructor blasting out of the iPhone encouraged everyone to undertake a form of torture. Wrapping one leg around an arm, doing the same on with the other leg and then balancing on what limbs remained still free to move. I might have misheard her….. Anyways it wasn’t a pretty site. I felt like an iPhone which had just been permanently bent out of shape. Funnily enough we have a story on that one to come…. I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing, this is just brutal.
Is yoga out to get me….
Yes it is….
A few hours later we were walking the mad dog down one of the narrow village lanes when a car headed our way. Hawklad went one way and I headed towards the other fence. I recognised the driver and waved. Unfortunately at the very same moment I stepped in a rabbit hole and suddenly entered into an out of control stumble, culminating in me trying to fall nose first over the fence. I clearly gave the driver a really good giggle. And here’s the thing. The driver is a yoga instructor. I’m clearly on the yoga naughty list.
Yoga is out to get me.
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.
Every year one of the great PREDATORS of our planet makes an appearance here. Forget your Great White Shark and your ‘don’t go into the water’ scream. Here it’s don’t go on the grass and whatever you do, Don’t Stand on one of these monsters.
Great White Sharks hunt alone, these beasts hunt in packs.
It’s not ‘You’re going to need a bigger boat’, its ‘You’re going to need a thicker shoe’.
It’s definitely an angry food….
So another morning of missing lessons and unsettling topics. Finally enough’s enough. That’s more than enough school angst for one week. For both of us. Hawklad was ordered to play on his new FIFA game (surprisingly he accepted that order without much protest). I went outside to change both blown car headlights. I know which task I would prefer to be doing…..
In the old days changing a bulb was an easy job. Open the bonnet, remove the old bulb, put in the new one. No tools required. Bask in the glory of being an official car mechanic. No need for that Mark 1 Escort Haynes Car Manual. People used to give them as Christmas Presents…..those were the days.
All those years later, all those years of technological progress and I find myself outside in the freezing Yorkshire rain. Briefed on the trials ahead via a helpful 10 minute YouTube video. A smorgasbord array of required tools crammed into my pockets. Years of progress mean that to change a car headlight bulb I now need to
– open bonnet
– unscrew and remove the front grill,
– remove the wheel arches
– remove the front bumper
– unclip the headlight unit
– remove the headlight unit
– unclip the broken bulb using a technique very similar to the sixth move of doom
– put on gloves as touching the new bulb will apparently cause a thermal nuclear explosion
– then reassemble the car…..
Unbelievably after two hours the process was completed. Ok the car might be out of diesel, it may well fall to bits the next time it’s reaches 30mph but at least the headlights are working.
Now to venture onto the lawn to pick up next doors dog’s poop. Yes I will be entering the land of the predator. Be afraid, be very afraid.
Hawklad was feeling anxious. Really anxious. This time next week will be tough for him. It will be a tough call. Classroom or Home….
Sometimes it can feel very isolating just the two of us kinda cut off from the real world. Maybe there is a danger we take root.
So he needed a distraction. Something different. It was time to go hunting in the garage. What can I find. Imagine a place like the shop that Harry Potter got his wand from. Dark, cramped, filled to the brim with things that haven’t seen the light of day in years. Maybe decades. Some objects beyond rational comprehension.
As I rummaged deeper into the recesses my plight became more perilous. I stretched, bent and shakily balanced over box after box. Deeper I went into the precarious jungle of old toys and objects. Then I saw a very large old wooden box. It might as well have been an old precious wand. That will do nicely.
An old garden croquet set that came from his grannies house several years ago.
Yes it was fun. Definitely different. Some of the rules might have been loosely applied or invented. When did croquet become a contact sport. The long grass didn’t help. But the main thing is Hawklad was distracted.
Now was the time to get serious about this martial art called croquet. I got the lawnmower out and carefully cut out a croquet course. Incorporating obstacles. A Mole Hill. An Apple Tree. The Football Goal. Yorkshire Wet Grass.
Captain Chaos was a moving obstacle and introduced his own version of mayhem. Suddenly we have one of Europe’s Finest and Most Challenging Croquet Experiences.
Captain Chaos might be on to something. Croquet with a sock…..Yes Croquet is fun. And fun is needed some days…..
I don’t mind gardening. Yes it can be hard work but it’s mostly enjoyable and relaxing. Problem is that I’m not very good at it. My gardening attempts to make things worse. Over time I’ve figured out that the garden will always look better if nature takes control. With patience it brings you gifts. It always does. So amongst the weeds the gifts keep on coming.
Sadly the ‘leave it to Nature’ strategy doesn’t stretch to the lawn. Nature won’t cut the grass. It just keeps on growing. It becomes a meadow. A meadow without wild flowers, just prickly, stingy things. Balls get lost. Pets go missing. Mine and the dogs hay fever goes into meltdown. Yes the dog had allergies. He takes exactly the same antihistamines as I do. It’s such an odd feeling swallowing my tablet while trying to get the mad dog to take his. So the lawn needs cutting. That’s down to me. But I do leave Nature a few areas of grass to do it’s thing with. You never know what it will do. What wonders it might bring. And it does give the mad dog a great place to hide socks, my socks.
You get these days……
Hawklad was taking his science revision really seriously. We were in the garden playing football. Actually I was trying to show off. Trying to show Hawklad that I could curl a free kick around the sundial and nestle the ball into the top corner. All with my left peg.
Sadly I am no Messi.
The ball screamed into the farmers field. Like an Exocet missile it landed perfectly into a new and very deep cowpat. I jumped over the fence again landing perfectly into an even bigger cow gift. I wasn’t picking that ball up so I decided kick it. Have you ever kicked a cowpat. It explodes…… I was covered. It even went up my nose. Up my pigging nose. That’s emasculating.
The smell taking me back to days living near a sewage treatment facility. All very Nose-talgic……
Definitely one of those days….
Came across this rather marvellous flower just outside the church walls. That good that even Captain Chaos opted against cocking his leg against it. The ultimate sign of respect. Unusually the dog only passes up on such treats if stinging nettles are in the immediate locality.
Stinging nettles in the locality.
Not an area you ever see Captain Chaos lifting his rear left leg off the ground to ….. Even the farmers cows avoid here…… But it is a great area for harvesting nettle tea….
It’s also a great place to drop something. This afternoon I was taking a works call. In a desperate attempt to stop falling asleep or going crazy, I went outside. Outside with the mobile, pen, paper and mug of coffee. As the work call dragged on the duel prospect of sleep and madness increasingly beckoned. To distract myself I moved to the fence adjacent to the mutant nettles. Why, I do not know…… Then the inevitable disaster. The pen and paper toppled off the fence and with unwavering precision they were consumed by the monster stinging jungle. Taking the notes I had made during one of the worlds most boring ever phone-calls into oblivion.
Two options
1) get seriously stung fishing the notes out,
2) own up and basically restart the dreaded work call again recapturing the facts and data.
Only one sensible option I could ever take. Neither….. End the call and just guess……
Does that make me a bad person 😂😂😂😂
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 