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Dreams

What an odd night with two very different DREAMS. One really nice dream, but I can only recall snippets. One really weird dream and I can recall it vividly. With me I think the key is how I wake. Wake slowly and the dream is hazy, fading quickly. Wake with a START and the dream is clear, has a permanence.

The first dream felt like such a lovely, safe place to be. Based on real places. I know it was about Lake Brienz in Switzerland. The rest is hazy, no idea about any details, just that I was happy. I’ve been truly blessed to spend a little bit of time here, wish it was way more, such a stunning place. I woke slowly and quietly.

And then we come to the SECOND dream. Just an hour or so after Lake Brienz.

Even now, everything from that dream is so vivid. It started off in another real place, at my parent’s old house. I was in the garden and it was a perfect copy of reality. Little long forgotten details brought back, the gap in the fence under the hedge where my tortoise would go exploring, the crooked apple tree, the missing pane in the greenhouse, the lavender smell. So many details. The dream kicked on. A young couple had moved in next door. I talked with them over the fence, but quickly the guy had to go inside to feed the pets. He liked it here, she hated the new house. She hated the area, the people, the weather, her new home, everything. She even hated the plants in her garden. She bitterly talked about wanting to be anywhere but here, it was her husband’s bad idea. I felt really uncomfortable. As soon as she could get out, she would. She was even going to burn those two ugly Japanese shrubs in the pots, I asked if I could give them a new home. She shrugged and stormed off. So I headed inside to see Mum, to tell her that I had met her new neighbours and that she might get those two nice plants that she likes. The reality was actually my mum left that house nearly 30 years ago and although the garden in the dream was perfect, the other bits of the story had much fiction. That couple never existed, the inside of mum’s house wasn’t quite right, the neighbouring garden looked odd, but I do remember those two Japanese plants, they were definitely real, although I’m not sure mum ever noticed them.

Here’s where the dream slammed in a sudden handbrake turn…..

As I went inside I heard mum’s voice scolding my older brother. He was apparently sleeping his life away and his breakfast was still on the table….. now there was some reality to part. I can remember my older bro liking to party at the weekend and as a result he would stay in bed till nearly midday, that didn’t please mum…..

Back to the dream, my brother’s bedroom door opened and out came my bro. As he walked passed me on the way to the kitchen, he patted me on the back and said in am AMERICAN ACCENT ‘Hi Bro….’.

But that’s not my brother, he’s not American and hold your horses ….that’s Jack Black……

That jolted me out of my dream, and I’m sure I woke shouting ‘Jack Black ain’t my brother’.

Figure that dream out, not been back to that house in decades, haven’t spoke to my brother in months and no I have not seen any Jack Black movies recently.

Really odd and just a bit frustrating….. So many unanswered dream questions and really frustratingly, why can’t I remember all the good details from the nice dream.

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8 Years

This week I’ve got round to something which has been nearly EIGHT years in the making.

A few years back was the start of the world changing for us. Since then Hawklad has experienced losing his mum, two grannies, an uncle and a niece. Not to mention several pets. Hard enough for a grizzled, well weathered muppet like me, unimaginably tough for a child who was only 8 when the world started changing.

I’ve always tried to find the right words for Hawklad, being open to whatever he needs to get through this but being brutally honest, I’ve tended to skim over some really important areas when it comes to how I’m getting through this. Definitely putting off making sense of what death and loss truly mean, I don’t think I was ready for that. Now it kinda feels like it’s been put off long enough.

The hotel we stayed at in Switzerland had a beautiful reading room, filled with books in German, French, Italian and English. In the English section I noticed on our last trip a fine collection of CS Lewis books. Plenty of the expected magical adventures but amongst those was a clearly well thumbed little book. This was his diary on GRIEF, talking about what he was thinking and struggling with during the weeks after he had lost his wife. Even back then, I could quickly tell that it wasn’t an easy read and that was before our world changing. I remember carefully putting the book back, thinking ‘thankfully not yet…”. It soon would be….. yet I always put off visiting those pages.

Now in 2024, it’s time to read that book as it has a huge relevance to me, AND now I feel I’m ready to open some of those closed doors.

Images from that last Switzerland adventure when that book was still not required….

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More coast

It’s a steep old walk out the village.. try that when it’s icy.

More tropical Yorkshire weather, more time by the coast. This time beautiful, old Robin Hood’s Bay. Welcome to the eighteenth centuries busiest Yorkshire smuggling port. Maybe the name came from this being the legendary ‘give to the poor’ hero’s seaside refuge, maybe it came from local fairy folklore. One thing is for sure, if it was Robin Hood or a Forest Elf, I hope they got wrapped up warm. It’s a place to blow away the cobwebs, it’s a place for the thickest of thick woolly jumpers.

Many many years ago, a young me came here on an outward bounds course. It’s funny how time expands and enhances the memories. I remember vividly climbing during the middle of the night, through a dark, waste deep, raging stream filled tunnel. A tunnel that went on for several deadly miles, finally after one of the greatest feats of human endurance, emerging onto the windswept beach. From this very exit…

Unfortunately it doesn’t appear to be very waste deep…. and pacing the tunnel out, it’s probably 50 yards long at most….

My whole life has been based on a lie 😂😂😂😂😂

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How long

I have a friend from university who has steadfastly shunned as much new technology as possible. He has no home computer, still uses video and vinyl, has no cd or dvd player. Doesn’t own a mobile phone. Actually he doesn’t really like any phones. The result is any communication is handwritten letters, it’s like a blast from the past.

During one protracted letter exchange, a conversation which would now normally take seconds was played out over almost a full year.

Remember that climbing trip to Glen Coe…

Oh yes, that one…

How on earth did you fall into that stream….

Effects of gravity probably, wow it was smelly, but you found that cowpat to fall into….

That was the biggest cowpat ever, covered head to toe….

That was not produced by a cow, size of that thing, it was a dinosaur….

We looked a right state sitting in that cafe that evening….

We did, but it was a great climb….

Happy Days….

It’s been a while since we have climbed….

It is, life happened….

How long is it now, must be 10 years….

I’ve just checked my photos, I think our last climb was 21 years ago….

Really, wow, where does that time go………………..

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Never the same

In the quiet my mind wandered. Watching and listening to the latest rain storm to crash into our little bungalow, sat on a little Yorkshire Hill.

How can I get Hawklad for a holiday somewhere. How to do it without ramping up his anxieties, how to fund it, where to go. I kept going back to previous holidays, holidays before our little world changed. Coming to the same phrase in my head.

Can never be the same again.

The logical approach is to go back to our former Swiss trip base, Spiez. I know how to get there, the ways that would work and not work for Hawklad. Ways to avoid queues, and crowds and anxieties. Familiarity is important to him, reassuring. Spiez would offer that.

Plus it is a wonderful base to explore the rest of Switzerland and even Northern Italy .

Plus it is one of Europe’s most beautiful bays.

BUT

Things have changed. It’s not 3 or maybe more now. It’s just 2 of us. So many memories there. Maybe so many ghosts round every corner…

Much to ponder, but it is one stunning place. Always will be a special place for us.

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Weather

Another seriously damp and dark day in Yorkshire. After his morning constitutional walk, it was a fight with the mad dog for the best location nearest the fire. That kinda day.

Yes it’s not just Yorkshire that gets RAIN, Switzerland gets bucket loads as well. A wonderful Hotel Owner once told us with a smile ‘It rains somewhere in Switzerland every single day of the year. Switzerland always has Chocolate, Cheese and RAIN.”

Just like on the 23rd August 2015, it rained in Switzerland.

A dark and damp trip up The Niederhorn shows that the WEATHER can’t take away the wonder and beauty of some special places. I would happily take a bit more rain right now, AS LONG as I was in Switzerland.

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Switzerland

Back many many many years, at university, I remember a climbing buddy having an old battered poster on her kitchen wall. It was a beautiful mountain, with its reflection perfectly captured in a lake. In bold the message was something like “Keep looking, there is at least one place where you will fell truly ALIVE”.

Several decades later I was blessed to be able to stand by that very same lake and by that very same mountain. The Poster was so right….

These places DO EXIST.

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Switzerland

Sometimes you hear things that just pass you by. Sometimes you hear things that you think, that’s interesting. Then very occasionally you hear something that stops you in your tracks and you cry out

‘I’m sorry, say that again…..’

Sat in the Departure Lounge at Geneva Airport, talking to a Swiss Couple also waiting for the same plane. Two couples, two pregnant couples. The subject randomly got onto prospective child names.

“If you want that name then you better have your child in Britain. You won’t be allowed to call your baby that in Switzerland. Swiss Authorities have to approve names and have strict rules…”

Officially stopped in tracks.….

Switzerland, yes the country has naming rules. Can’t use names that might have a negative impact on a child’s future. Can’t use place or brand names. Middle names frowned upon as no room on official forms for them. Double surnames frowned upon. Some names changed to reflect local Italian or German pronunciations.

To be fair the couple did say things had become a bit more relaxed over the last few years, but rules are still there. At one stage there was even a list of approved baby names that you had to pick from.

Switzerland is a stunning, amazing country, it’s also occasionally just a bit barking mad. Coming from Yorkshire, I like that.

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Cold Sea

A Yorkshire Seaside Holiday Resort in WINTER. During the Summer Bridlington would be mobbed but this cold, windy day, it was almost completely deserted. Most places boarded up for the off season and definitely NO pirate ship rides.

Apparently the bronze statue is of a young girl knitting a special jumper called a Gansey for a local fisherman.

Many many many years ago, as a child I would come here once a year. It was one of the very few big family day trips. Sixty miles from home. That was as far as we ventured most years, so it seemed like it was on the other side of the world. Now walking along the seafront and it looked almost unchanged from those childhood adventures. Half expected to see my parents coming to meet us laden with newspaper wrapped fish, chips and mushy peas.

Memories AGAIN.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 60 Comments

Switzerland

Lost in Bern. Sounds like a Bill Murray movie. Lost back in time. The three of us were trying to find our way to the Bear Park. Walking in never ending circles around the old city streets when an enticing ice cream parlour became way too tempting. Temptation is a slippery slope to ruin or in this case a slippery cafe floor. Carrying 3 ice creams and drinks was way beyond me and I went head over heels. The Muppet Dad was on the floor covered in various flavours of ice cream and coke.

An embarrassing silence descended on the busy cafe.

Silence broken by Hawklad who loudly announced “HE is not my Dad, I have never seen him ever before…”

He was 5 and already he knew me way too well.

Doing a bit of that alpine climbing.