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We need a bigger bin.

‘We need a bigger bin’ doesn’t seem to have quite the same dramatic ring as ‘we need a bigger boat’ from Jaws….

Houston We have Problem….

In the great scheme of things, it’s not an Apollo Spacecraft is running out of fuel level crisis. It’s not even anywhere near the patio weedkiller isn’t really working with the Red Weed from War of the Worlds emergency.

Ok it’s just a wheelie bin issue…

But a common one round here.

As a cost cutting idea the local Council changed our recycling collections from every 2 to 4 weeks. To be fair they did give us a slightly bigger bin but in the good old days, every two weeks you would just pile up all the cardboard next to the inevitable full recycling bin and it would be collected. Now if it’s not in the bin, it ain’t being collected….

So these days, after about 2 weeks you see local residents employ various strategies to fit more and more into the already packed bin. Some carefully cut up the cardboard into smaller pieces (takes them hours), some madly folding and refolding as if in a crazy origami tournament, others have bonfires, others just start cramming cardboard into the normal refuge bin. I’ve elected for the get the ladders out, step into the full bin and start jumping up and down to compress. I dread to think of the internal pressures being applied to that poor wheelie bin. You never see good old Dr Who having to do that with his Tardis.

Anyways enough of Yorkshire Troubles.

We clearly haven’t had enough Castle trips this summer. Let’s have a look at Warwick Castle, one of Britain’s finest historic sites. Brings back a ton of memories, I went to university many many moons ago at Warwick.

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Waterfall

England’s largest waterfall by water volume….

High Force in County Durham. A 70ft waterfall.

Given the lack of rain this summer in the north, still an impressive site. We have been here a number of times over the years but this was definitely the quietest it’s been, normally it’s truly thunderous. Streams feeding into the river are dry.

Most unlike our usual northern weather.

Always a bittersweet feeling for us here. This was the last place we visited as a family of 3 outside of Yorkshire. Over 9 years ago now but on this visit it felt a lot longer to me. At times almost like a different life, different world. As I tried to recall the memories they felt like faded old photos, proving difficult to hold onto, losing their colour. TIME and LIFE I guess inevitably has that effect. Eventually we have to move on.

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Letter to you

“Tried to summon all that my heart finds true
And send it in my letter to you”

The words of Bruce Springsteen in LETTER TO YOU

Eight years back, when we were going through Mum’s house we came across a letter. Not to us, but still a letter. A decades old letter that indicated Dad had been married and divorced before he met Mum. We had no idea. Without finding that letter we would never have found out. I can imagine asking Mum …..

Why didn’t you or Dad mention this small fact…..

And I can already hear Mum’s response ‘Well you never asked dear, now go and put the kettle on, there is an old Clark Gable movie starting on the telly in a couple of minutes…..”

A friend in the village once told me that after his partner died he found a LETTER. A beautiful letter from his partner which talked about unbreakable love, wonderful times, happy memories and the best of times. The letter also talked about starting again, finding happiness, living life and maybe love again.

Definitely summoning all that my heart finds true.

I found a LETTER TO ME. With trepidation I opened the letter addressed to me. Not from the end but from a few years back. My partner liked to go on overseas solo adventures and I guess before every trip she wrote a letter just in case the worst happened. One of those letters had become hidden in other stuff and had become long forgotten.

I didn’t find too many expressions of love, no heartfelt messages. This LETTER TO ME basically reminded me to

  • Inform X,Y and Z.
  • To stop her Accountancy Subscription Fees.
  • Cancel her hair and dentist appointments.
  • To check her clothes pockets before I take them to the charity shop.
  • Make sure I clean her car out properly before I sell it.
  • Don’t forget to paint the front door.
  • Remember to put the bins out on a Tuesday…..

Not sure that’s the kind of thing Bruce was writing about in his song.

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Summer of 69

Trip to see the wonderful Bryan Adams. The last time I saw Bryan, I was still in my twenties, wow where did those years go. Looking at most of the crowd, I bet there were quite a few thinking the same.

Odd times back then. I had been with this girl for nearly three years, about that time we had started talking marriage and kids. Planning for the future. We went to see Bryan starting to plan for the long term.

Yet just a few months later, it was over. Life happened and we went our separate ways. We parted well and vowed to stay friends, maybe try again if the right moment came. But staying friends was maybe the problem. We could be friends but never really developed into best friends and soul mates. Careers took us in different geographic directions and we ended up seeing each other only once in the subsequent few years. A nice restaurant meal around the time a certain Bryan Adam’s love song was never off the radio. I remember almost asking her if she wanted to try again, but couldn’t find the words and I wasn’t completely certain. From a mutual friend, apparently she thought about asking the same thing but likewise didn’t. That was it, haven’t seen her again, decades have passed. No idea where she is now.

So last week when Bryan played that love song, it took me briefly back, I had completely forgotten about that time in my life. To a relationship that came close but never quite worked out for both of us. No regrets, just hope she did find the one, someone who could be her best friend and soul mate. Someone I was never really going to be.

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Old music

I was in one of those vacant mind states as I ploughed through the daily house chores. The domestic zombie was just drifting through the preprogrammed cleaning, tidying and washing routines.

Glancing out of the window I caught sight of a couple of pigeons flying around the trees and suddenly I was roused out of my zombified state.

It’s funny how a sensation, a sight, a smell, a sound can suddenly bring back a flood of long forgotten memories. Those pigeons in flight had in that moment taken me back to the late eighties. Sat in my parents garden, listening to my Sony Walkman, watching scores of pigeons fly around the trees. Mr Cook, the next door neighbour, raced pigeons. At the bottom of his garden was a Tim Burton like strange, three sided, lob sided gothic style pigeon mansion. Get too close and you can almost taste those pungent cigarettes that Mr Cook was always smoking while he talked to his prized birds. The Walkman was new, well it was to me, it was a hand me down from my older brother. Sat in my parents garden I only had two cds back then. One was Whitesnake, the other was one of those random NOW this is supposed to be MUSIC compilations, a friend donated it to me as it was ‘crap’. It only had one listenable song, a belter from The Bangles, I kept playing that one song on repeat, watching the pigeon show.

Looking back to that former version of me, The Bangles music has aged way better than I have. The other thing is that my younger self was a tad mixed up. I had got use to wearing so many emotional masks to so many different people, I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. And WOW was I making some really bad life calls and yes making some really questionable fashion choices. Life was complicated, unfathomable, yet it seemed so simple to those pigeons.

Flying pigeons still seem to have such an uncomplicated life.

Today, in 2025 those pigeons had sent me to my record collection to find my Bangles album, to find that song. I’m still making life mistakes, still making questionable fashion choices daily. And now, I’m still playing that song on repeat again. Does life make any more sense now, not really but I’m kinda used to that now. If I still can’t figure out the washing machine cycles, what chance have I got figuring out life. Just got to keep my eyes open to helpful, guiding signposts. Maybe just like those pigeons today.

Do you know just how hard it is to photograph pigeons in flight with an iPhone. Gave up and cheated, much easier photographing them when they are feeding…..

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Spoilers

After the final online lesson of the day we headed to the cinema, bit of a risk on Valentines Day. Even riskier when the movie is a romantic comedy.

In our defence Captain America was just too full for Hawklad.

This mid afternoon Bridget Jones screening was half full and we were the only males in Screen 3…. As we headed towards our customary front row seats, I couldn’t help notice the amount of wine and champagne bottles that I had assumed had been sneaked in. Even just a small glass of wine there is eye wateringly expensive never mind a bottle. I smiled as I thought back to my childhood. To my seaside towns cinema on the beach. I remember going to watch a dreadful movie called I think ‘ BMX Bandits’ and some nutter managed to sneak a bike into the cinema. Proudly riding round the aisles to distract from the dreadful movie, that kid must have had ginormous pockets to sneak that thing past the ticket collector.

No such wheeled subtractions this time.

We’ve both enjoyed the previous three Jones movies, found them very funny. The latest version is funny but also this time around, sad at times, painfully sad. Anyone who has experienced loss will need at least one hanky. Recently I’ve become way less prone to movie tears, but this one got me.

Sorry no more movie spoilers….

Ok confession time. As I felt the tears roll that I was really conscious of being on the front row. I was reluctant to show signs of weakness for some reason, really daft as I bet I wasn’t the only one. I slid lower and lower into my chair before trying to brush away the tears. What a silly sausage.

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Time will run out.

I always wanted to stay a night here. Maybe one day. Almost touching distance of The Eiger, the famous mighty Swiss mountain.

The winter months, the inhospitable weather, deserted paths and seasonally closed cafes. This time of year always makes me more reflective, some would say EVEN more reflective.

I’ve been thinking about parenting, specifically before our family world changed and I fumbled my way into single parenting. With parenting you sometimes get things right, sometimes get things wrong and sometimes you kinda just drift about on the tides of life. Given that there is no parenting blueprint to follow and the propensity of our little raptors to transform the seemingly straightforward into sleepless, stress filled angst maelstroms, we can forgive ourselves for not always being perfect. As a couple we were very different with very different takes on how to bring a child up. Sometimes we agreed, more often we negotiated (possibly argued) our way to compromises. And YES we didn’t get everything right, sometimes we got it spectacularly wrong. Looking back that doesn’t frustrate me, we did our best.

But now, in 2025 something does bother me, frustrates me, makes me feel sad. It’s not the decisions we got spectacularly wrong, it’s the decisions and opportunities that we kicked into the future. We didn’t say NO, we just said not now. ‘Not now’ because of some fairly unimportant work stuff, because it took us slightly out of our comfort zone, because it will complicate things, because we don’t need to push now because we have loads of time to sort this out in the future….

Let’s think about it again next year…

Let’s not do that now but maybe later….

Let’s talk ourselves out of this even though it could be so wonderful, no pressure, plenty of time to get round to it….sometimes sitting doing nothing can seem better than having the time of our life’s.

We were fooling ourselves, time ran out….

I keep going over those moments. Often trips, adventures or holidays that didn’t happen. Like the big Christmas adventure, the chance to take Hawklad to Lapland to visit Santa. Never happened even though we could have done it and we both knew it was a great adventure. Yes just the two of us could do it now but it’s not quite the same after the pesky Art Teacher decided it was time for some festive tough love… What a missed opportunity because we thought there was plenty of time.

Then there are those moments, missed opportunities that yes we can still do (and sometimes have already addressed) but we left it too long for his mum. She missed out. Hawklad never got to experience these moments with her. Disney Florida, Panto, trips to see Whales, Horse riding, skiing, Yellowstone, Kennedy Space Centre, Patagonia….. I could go on. Especially this little beauty, I managed to film Hawklad’s first walk on an old video camera, his mum was at work. The camera wouldn’t connect to the TV, so I needed to get the tape converted to VHS. I never did get round to it, I put it off (plenty of time) and then it was forgotten in both our life’s. She never did get to see that special moment.

Now I feel sadness over those moments, moments his mum never got to experience, Hawklad never got to share with her. It’s a painful lesson.

Time will run out……

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Not raining

Scarborough and unbelievably it’s NOT RAINING.

With one finger briefly dipped into the water I can confirm that the North Sea is absolutely frigid at this time of year….

That was Thursday, Friday was way more misty. Perfect weather to visit the cinema, or as my Mum would have called it, THE PICTURES. Dear Mum, when she was young she loved going to The Pictures but then life happened and she stopped going. For many Decades….

She did go one more time to see The Horse Whisperer. She was rooted to her chair as the credits finished rolling, a little disturbed to discover that the modern Pictures experience doesn’t include a PATHE News bulletin and the singing of the National Anthem. I’m also not sure what Mum would have made of the movie we saw on Friday, the new Bob Dylan biopic. A Fantastic movie but maybe wouldn’t have quite been mum’s musical cup of tea. However we loved it and Hawklad shared a thought while watching Timothee Chalamet hauntingly accurate portrayal of Dylan. Thinking of Dylan performing back in 1961 (even before I was born….) and then realising 63 years later, Hawklad got to see him play live just a few months back. Had to agree with him, that is mind blowing.

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Sky

Over the last few weeks we haven’t seen much of the sky. Mostly it’s been like this….

But when it has parted….

On another misty, dark day, we were heading back from the City and passed a stricken smoking car. Suddenly I was taken back years. Back to when I was young and Dad’s 4 wheel pride and joy. His MK1 Ford Cortina, 1% Silver 99% Rust and Holes. Top Speed, who are we kidding, there was nothing TOP about that thing. Stationary to walking pace in about 2 days before the inevitable smoking breakdown. I had completely forgotten about that Henry Ford Miracle and strangely I was smiling.

Maybe that caught me off guard….

We drove past a Children’s Play Barn, I brought Hawklad here countless times when he was a toddler. Fun times, so many happy memories. But life moves on, he became too old to venture there. The Xbox world became way more attractive than climbing around a Pirate Ship Climbing Frame. Now he’s doing College and the Christmas Present list is way different now. As I took another glance at the Play Barn in the Rear View Mirror, feelings of melancholy swept over me.

Where did that time go……

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Deep

That kinda day, just grim….

This afternoon we drove to a city on the coast, to Hull, visiting its large £50 million pound aquarium, The Deep. So many memories flooded back walking around the maze of tanks and glass tunnels.

The last time we had ventured here was when Hawklad was about 4. The three of us came with his Dutch friend and parents. Life was way different then, preschool Nursery was working out really well, Hawklad was flourishing with loads of friends. A never ending succession of meet-ups at various houses, parks and attractions. On top of family and work contacts, it felt like a socially full and connected world. Aspergers was still a year or so away from really knocking on our front door.

So many thoughts now…..

Piggy backs looking at the fish now replaced by someone towering over me. That bubbly child who would run up to anyone and excitedly tell them all about the sharks, now we carefully pick the moment to look at the tanks, waiting for the crowds to part and plenty of space to appear. Now we are a family of two (four counting mad pets) with a barren social diary. All the families and friends from Nursery have long since dispersed, including the Dutch family. Home based Work and College is proving socially isolating. Our Family Photos seem to feature fewer and fewer loved ones.

It’s a sobering thought, just how quickly life can change, just how easily people can become cut off and isolated within this increasingly noisy world. The other prevailing thought came from watching the various sea creatures effortlessly change direction in the large, populated tanks. At times with me it definitely felt like rudderless sailing, buffeted by the storms of life. Definitely not feeling much like effortless and intentional changes of direction of my part. But who’s to say that my planned direction would have turned out any better than the reality. Plus, in this life I’ve not yet ended up stuck behind glass windows, being gawked at, swimming round in never ending circles. I wonder how the fish feel, in control, socially connected with all the other creatures in the tank, immune from the storms in the real world or boxed in, constrained. Without the storms of life, stuck in one place.

THE DEEP ended up making me think way too DEEP.