It’s odd how the mind works. Suddenly a long lost memory randomly pops back into focus. I was trying to open a food tin and the can opener had done a runner. Time to get out my Swiss Army Knife with its soon to be tried, mini can opener tool. I remembered buying this knife gadget from a gift shop in Switzerland to hurriedly try to fix my Glasses. We were at the top of The Gornergrat. A high mountain ridge standing at over 10,000ft just a few miles from Zermatt. It’s famed for having Europe’s highest open air railway.
The memory further opened out. Glasses quickly repaired, we had lunch sat outside the mountain top restaurant. Hawklad’s Mum then said that on our next Swiss Holiday we should try to stay at the hotel here, seemingly perched on top of the world.
That was 2015 and our world changed before that could happen.
A Christmas Week trip out to the Coast. To the South Gare at Redcar. My old childhood town.
Wild and windy with clear storm damage. This place gets a real battering from the North Sea.
As a child I would either bike here or my Dad would bring me in his old rust bucket Ford. It was a great place to come, it was as exciting as this part of the world got. Huge waves, intrepid fishing boats, working lighthouse and huge supertankers coming into port. If you were really lucky you would get to see newly built mighty Oil Rigs being towed out to the oil fields, hundreds of miles north. That was many years ago.
The waves are still huge, everything else has changed. Hardly any fishing, lots of derelict industry, not so many ships using the ports now. Dad is a distant memory.
The photo below was taken from what was left of one the Gun Posts. Since the 1970s this view would have been dominated by a huge Blast Furnace, Europe’s second biggest. Now that’s gone as well.
2023, the Furnace should be there in the middle of that photo
Back 18 months ago, the Furnace was still there, a shell waiting to be scrapped. For decades the Furnace dominated Redcar. Dominated its skyline, economy and life. My Dad worked there, my brother in law worked there, most of my school friends went to work there.
From 2022, proved to be the last photo I would take of the Steel Works..
Walking there this Christmas and I could really feel THE GHOSTS of the past. A once childhood haunt is now just HAUNTED.
Back in 2015 we had planned to take Hawklad to the theatre to see Panto. Many countries don’t do Panto so here is a short Yorkshire Guide to it.
Panto runs at many theatres across the country over Christmas and New Year. Silly, family musical comedies based on Fairy Tales. Each Panto tends to have at least one almost semi famous TV star, one kinda local celebrity and a group of actors, with a few just starting on their careers. Cheesy jokes, slapstick action, catchy songs, big sets, great costumes and really over the top acting. Much audience participation, compulsory booing of the pantomime villain and shouts of ‘it’s behind you’. Some really unfortunate parent always gets singled out for much social embarrassment.
It’s still hugely popular in the UK.
Roll back the clock and in 2015 Hawklad’s mum wasn’t well which stopped us going. Our world changed in 2016 so no panto. Years passed without panto, then COVID.
But finally in December 2023, many years late and WE got to PANTO. Better late than never…… in York’s old Theatre Royal.
Hawklad absolutely loved it. Muppet Dad thankfully avoided being the unfortunate Dad picked on throughout the 2 hours show. Yes it was a truly wonderful, enjoyable family show. That good that tonight we are already booking tickets for next years Panto which is going to be Aladdin..… It took too many years but now we can’t wait to keep up this new tradition.
Quality parking from the farmer, not many cars, or bikes, or dog walkers passing here for a while.
Some times you just need to pass stuff…..
Like a fine wine or malt, they get better with the years. That’s ME…
So NOT the case….
I remember a few decades back and a trip to the cinema was a pleasure and not torture. As many Kia-Ora cartons as my Paperboy job would pay for, not forgetting a small tub of ice cream if the person on the door could find the office keys. Then bring on the movie, short or long. Then bring on hiding under the seats at the end of the movie and then getting to watch the movie all over again. Never a need to bolt to the toilets, which was a good thing as the toilets at our towns beach cinema would often flood at high tide.
Photo from The BBC archives
It’s all changed now.
A brand new cinema has replaced the old battered Picture House.
My bladder has clearly been replaced with a small thimble.
Kia-Ora replaced with seriously overpriced black coffee.
Movies seem very very long and are now absolute torture.
🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽🚽
Today’s Marvel Epic was just 100 minutes long yet to my lower regions it felt like back to back Gone with the Wind’s. The pre movie trailers had just about started to roll when the first pangs of regret started for buying a coffee. As the movie started I was shifting uneasily. Halfway through and I was seriously preoccupied with matters of state. And as the heroic ending played out, I was having an out of body experience. I now know how John Hurt’s character in the Alien felt like just before the pesky alien popped out…..
It’s exactly 7 years since we welcomed this little hooligan into our world.
For 2 months I hadn’t been functioning, I was a mess and seemingly unable to take control. It had just been over 2 months since we had buried Hawklad’s Mum.
But then in November I realised that the house needed more LIFE, more noise, rekindled fun. A mad puppy was the answer. And do you know what, it still is the single best parenting decision I have made.
It’s taken over SEVEN years but finally it was time to sort through paperwork. Mounds of it. Her papers had sat largely untouched in and on the desk she used for work and in a huge old wooden cabinet which sits next to the desk. A large, heavy, immovable and very hard cabinet that is also just close enough to the room door that it’s caused many a bruise to my toes and shins during those years. Prior to that, not so many bruises as this was her room and I hardly ventured in there.
Not enough room in this little bungalow to have an unused room anymore. So it was time….
I had always assumed this would be an emotionally draining experience but in the end it was an odd feeling. I really didn’t feel anything, it just kinda happened. Occasionally I came across a paper with a handwritten note saying ‘speak to xxxxx’, ‘need to look at’, ‘needs sorting’. She never did….. That was unnerving.
I did find a few things which I put to one side for Hawklad to keep. But the pile of papers to get rid of steadily grew into a mound, then a mountain. A mountain that a few days later became a fine garden bonfire.
One work note made me smile. Before we met romantically we worked for a while in the same public sector organisation. Given the amount of paper, she was a conscientious saver of all documents, even seemingly irrelevant work ones. I found a few policies that I had issued, WOW, even I didn’t keep or ever look at those. But one random work document had a simple handwritten note about ME. She had written that I WAS RESPONSIBLE….. That was it, nothing else. Does that mean that she was so impressed with me as shining, go getting manager that I was clearly a RESPONSIBLE person. Could it mean that I was responsible for an area or budget or decisions in something that she was interested in. Or could it mean that there had been a COCKUP and I had caused it. 😂😂😂😂
As I am no Poirot we shall never know. So in the fine traditions of Public Service, I made doubly sure that particular document was especially well incinerated. I’ve spent decades avoiding responsibility and I’m not going to start now.
The room is looking very different now. Space now found for my books, my records, my stuff. It’s starting to not feel like her room anymore. I certainly couldn’t have done this 7 years ago, but those rivers keep flowing and eventually life moves on.
In all my euphoria over Hawklad’s exam results (https://bereavedsingledad.blog/2023/09/10/bridges-2/) I completely forgot that I was going to get some party balloons for the house. When I did remember, well to be accurate, when Hawklad finally reminded me a few days later……
We immediately rushed off to the Supermarket but with perfect timing, they had completely sold out. Pants….
But sometimes life has a habit of trying to bring balance and so it did. As we drove back empty handed what did we see….
BALLOONS
VERY BIG BALLOONS
Lots of HOT AIR BALLOONS
Maybe not quite the same but definitely memorable and definitely less taxing on my lungs. Now play spot the balloons.
Several decades ago, it was similarly wet when the University Rugby Team I was playing for travelled to Oxford for a cup game. What a mud bath. Damp must have got into my system as our huge shed of a Prop and the normally mild mannered ME decided to have a fight with the Opposition Front Row. The end result 5 SENT OFF including ME.
Our team operated a FORFEIT system for disciplinary breaches. The Coach had acquired a huge pack of adult party cards listing various odd punishments. My punishment was to ‘Taste Perfume’. Talk about Eye Watering. Trust me with some of these forfeits, I got off lightly.
On this occasion, my fellow miscreant was forced with his Forfeit Card to dress up for a day. He walked about the campus and city centre dressed as a GIANT PARROT. Biggest Bird you have ever seen. Very impressive and yet a nightmare for him. The costume cost him a fortune to buy, it was heavy, uncomfortable and almost impossible to do anything in. At one stage he even got stuck in some revolving doors and caused a bit of a scene in the local supermarket. He had a truly miserable day.
But here’s the thing. He misheard the challenge. He was supposed to dress up for the day as a PIRATE. No one had the heart to tell him. I guess it was his way of Expressing Himself.
The EXPRESS YOURSELF Great Bloggers Bake-off is THIS WEEKEND….
If you fancy having a culinary go either wonderfully well or worryingly woefully, you can send photos of your creations or monstrosities to
crushedcaramel@gmail.com
Check out Mel’s wonderful site for more information and the latest baking creations.
A trip to the really really really big city…..Clearly it’s still not big enough as they are doing even more building work. Can’t believe no one asked for our Yorkshire Passports to come this far South.
While we were in the SOUTH we passed a local radio station doing an outdoor broadcast. The queue to get on LIVE seemed longer than the queue to get into this place…
I have never seen the attraction of being heard over the airwaves, just for a few short moments. The super wide berth Hawklad took around this Radio Unit clearly demonstrated his thoughts on that subject as well.
Back a few decades and at Warwick University I shared a student house with someone who was desperate to get their voice broadcast. This student spent so much time phoning in radio shows. Music Requests, Quizzes, Call-in Discussions, Traffic Updates, any method to get on air. Proudly telling anyone who would listen of the successful LIVE appearances. Hardly a week went by without another LIVE tale to tell. I’m amazed the Coventry Radio Stations never clubbed together to get a restraining order on him.
One time I did ask why he did this. His response sticks with me
“I hate the thought of being Mr Nobody…”
Rather ironic as I can remember the names of the other 5 housemates but can’t remember his name… It might have started with a P or S. AND actually Mr Nobody is kinda famous. Hawklad loved his Mr Men books and one of his favourite characters was this good looking chap.
One very lonely poppy, I’m pleased that today it had a number of visitors.
Just one poppy in the entire field.
They are such beautiful, resilient flowers with such powerful symbolism. Family meaning as well. Grandfather was gassed in the trenches during WW1. My mum had a younger sister called Poppy who died in infancy.
Always so many stories. Not always happy ones.
Sorry went all Leonard Cohen on you there.
School is still most definitely out. Even after a week Hawklad is still on edge after the exams. But hopefully a very loud and noisy Iron Maiden concert will soon blow those cobwebs away.
AND I am still brain fudged. Why can I still recite so many chemical formulas, quote Love Poetry lines and Shakespeare. Last night I even dreamed about being a university student having to do a practical exam in fractional distillation. I can remember writing down the formula and clearly getting it right. And yet when I went shopping today I couldn’t remember one single item we needed.
At least I can still remember the stories behind the Poppy. That is something.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 