Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 23 Comments

Little monsters

Every year we get the return of these little monsters….

Stand on one of these and you know it, wow you know it. Try picking one up and it’s like those dreaded Covid vaccine jabs all over again, just this time 50 jabs for the price of one.

And yes, for a month, it’s the gift that keeps on giving. All these have to come down……

The other night I was listening to someone from one of the exam boards on the radio. Not intentionally, I was waiting for my so called football team’s match to start, it was the next programme. Anyways this exam person said something that worried me a lot…..

One of the big complaints about the UK school system is that it is too inflexible, almost like a factory production line. Pushing too many children, regardless of individual need, regardless of if it’s working or not for them, through the same education channels. A one shoe fits all approach. Then the kids get to exams and then often 10 years of schooling comes down to 10 or more written exams, crammed into a couple of weeks. Written exams just don’t suit every child. They often don’t allow the individual child to demonstrate what amazing talents and skills they have. Don’t get good grades in those written exams and you can be way too quickly written off.

Thankfully things started to change a little. More course work counting towards final grades in some exams, allowing scribes and allowing typed answers. Hawklad got a bit more time and was allowed to type his answers, two fingered typing on a school laptop. Surely more flexibility is good for our children, it must be about making schools work for each child.

Back to this exam person on the radio. He was talking about the spread of AI and the problems it’s causing. AI has apparently got so powerful, it is just too professional at writing top answers to whatever you ask it. He was saying that he’s been in meetings nationally were there has been real concern that the treasured school exam integrity is being undermined now. It’s too easy for pupils to use AI to write top mark coursework, producing complete essays in just a few seconds and because AI is developing, it’s way harder for exam boards to pick out those pupils who are ‘cheating the system’ . It is also way harder for exam boards to make sure those pupils sitting exams via a laptop are not also using AI to cheat the system.

So one option being considered is too go back to old school exams. Absolutely no coursework counting to marks, no use of laptops in exams. Pupils sit old school exams using just a pen. That way the exams reputation and integrity is protected……

I never heard him mention the needs of the children once. It was all about the needs of the schools, the exams and the economy. No consideration of if AI could allow for more individuality in schooling, provide more options for teachers to find what works for each child. If they did go back to just old school written exams, it’s going to hurt way too many kids, all to just protect an outdated system. What a huge mistake that would be.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 25 Comments

Weeding

A proper garden…

Sometimes not weeding is the right approach.

Tomorrow is one of those school video meetings. 9 minutes with the schools lead Special Education Teacher. So much to discuss in just NINE minutes. Where’s the support. What are the options if Hawklad can’t sit exams. Scope for one to one tuition. Let’s see what comes of it.

Today was supposed to be a mock exam but nothing came from school. Maybe they aren’t allowed to send it out, maybe it’s coming later. Another one for the 9 minute discussion.

So without a home exam to sort out it was time to do a spot of gardening. Well look at the garden. Surely looking and planning counts as gardening. As I was doing that hands free gardening I managed to find some lost (or dognapped) property. Numerous socks, a slipper, a plastic dog bowl, several balls and bizarrely a pair of my pants…. I can’t remember losing them while weeding.

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 · 43 Comments

Drama

You take your eye off the veg patch for a few days and an Amazonian Forest starts to form. Clearly rain rather than warm sunshine is the secret to greenery. Now where did I plant the spring onions?

An email from school made me smile. I notified school of the hospital issue and told them that Son would be out of action for a while. I would speak to school on Monday with an update. Then on Friday night the email at 11.30pm. Son had apparently failed to satisfactory submit work for one subject on Friday. Son immediately guessed which was the only subject that would do this. Why is it always DRAMA. Why is Drama always a drama. Following a rather snotty midnight parent email the teacher quickly apologised on Saturday. On the plus side there are only 2 more weeks to the summer holidays. After that Son has elected to drop the subject (assuming he goes back). So only two more hours of Drama left. How much drama can be squeezed into those 120 minutes…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 107 Comments

Pathway

The gap between the hedge and the Apple tree has basically disappeared. All this enforced time at home and somebody has been neglecting the garden. Unbelievable. But I quite like the results. Often it’s best to let nature takes its own course. So much easier that way as well…..

Every second Wednesday is becoming a right bind. Our bins are emptied every two weeks. This includes the garden waste bin. So when it comes to the day of putting out the bins I get that sinking feeling. Please let the green bin (now a brown bin for some reason) be at least half full. When I open the lid, I want to see plenty of grass cuttings, hedge trimmings and pulled up weeds. I want that feeling of elation that comes from two weeks worth of gardening. So I can close the bin lid and wheel it out onto the road. A job well done.

That’s the theory.

In practice I open the bin lid to find its completely empty. Oh big pants. Now I feel bad. I clearly have been wearing my laziest big pants. The inner shame drives me to fill the bin before the refuse wagon arrives. This being Yorkshire means a mad couple of hours gardening in driving rain and hail. That regular routine was repeated this morning. While I’m fighting the gardening elements I can hear my Mums words echoing around my exceedingly wet head. You just need to do 10 minutes a day of weeding and you get the perfect garden without breaking your back. One day I will follow this sage advice.

So the bin was filled. It was wheeled out onto the road and it felt like that was the gardening done for another two weeks. See I never learn.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 105 Comments

Nettles

You know your garden is badly overgrown when you manage to fill a wheelie wheelie big Wheelie Bin full of weeds in less than 15 minutes. I guess that’s one of the advantages of council refuse collections only happening every two weeks. After only a few minutes weeding you might as well stop for 2 weeks.

I have to say the weeds didn’t go without a fight again. Nothing like trying to pull out angry nettles. They are the Sith Lords of the garden kingdom. Today I was prepared. Thickest gloves I could find, long sleeve top and combat trousers. I still have a lot to learn in the ways of the dark side. One particular large nettle was refusing to come out of the ground. With one final effort the nettle exploded out of the Yorkshire soil. Unfortunately far too much upward force had been applied and the delightful stinging plant whacked me in the face and neck. Shall we just say it’s smarting a tad….

I wasn’t weeding out of choice. The house had become very much off limits. Son had to voice record a presentation for school. He was suitably unimpressed. So to try and not put him off, I went outside to garden. I’m not sure how it finally sounded and I’ve promised him not to listen to it. But the barbed mutterings from inside the house did make me smile.

How am I supposed to perform under theses conditions….

Typical I do a good one and I forget to start recoding the stupid thing….

I bet Johnny Depp would struggle with this script….

And breathe….

Argh, why does this microphone make me sound like a Sith from Star Wars….

Oh for the love of …. I’m sounding like a chipmunk now….

Oh god I’m starting to sound like my Dad….

Sadly he is starting to sound like his Dad. My habit of shouting at pieces of technology has clearly rubbed off on him. I just wish these nettle stings would rub off me now. I definitely have a face perfect for radio tonight.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 79 Comments

The tree of hope

Three years ago I was trying to get my head round organising my partners funeral. At the same time I was trying to empty my mums house and wrap up her loose ends. My head was completely spinning. I was in full zombie grief mode.

One family personal trauma doesn’t stop the world from spinning. It carries on regardless. So I was immediately faced with continuing the application for our sons Education Health Care Plan. Sat bewildered at my partners desk trying to find on my own the words for the final application form. The words came so easy when it was two minds. Now the one failed me. Then the black pen stopped working. Couldn’t find another and the form had to be completed in black on the pain of ……

So I set off to the shops to buy a pen. But quickly I was lost in a sea of grief and unanswered questions. An hour later I found myself at a random garden centre. Clearly a good choice for stocking up on pens. I wandered around aimlessly looking at plant after plant. The cctv must have been focusing on me as I was clearly not acting like your ordinary shopper. Then I came across a sad looking tree. Actually more like a snapped twig. The label said ‘discounted Pear Tree due to damage’. I felt sorry for this broken life form pushed to a dark corner of the store. Now no more that an afterthought. It felt like me.

So I went in looking for pens and came out with Groot (Marvel Universe).

Over the next three years Groot has grown and is now about 5 feet tall. Looks surprisingly healthy. AND this year for the first time it’s produced pears. Just FOUR pears. But it’s not the fruit crop which is important here. It’s something completely different. It’s HOPE. When personal tragedy strikes your whole world is turned upside down. It will never be the same again. You move from creating memories together to replaying memories in isolation. But you can’t live your life in those memories. Life has to go on. In my case life did go on. Yes I miss her dearly. Yes sadness always feels just round the corner. Yes I’ve become increasingly isolated from society. But life has gone on. Sons Education Health Care Plan was approved. I’ve changed careers. Progress has been made with Dyslexia. The house no longer feels like a funeral parlour largely down to the addition of a barking mad dog. I’ve increased the range of foods I can destroy. And Groot is thriving. That gives me hope.