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Breakfast

There is nothing like a good breakfast to kick start the day. Especially when it’s been another largely sleepless night. Today it was going to be cornflakes and flaxseed with a thick topping of fruit. No fresh fruit was available this week from the store so I opted for tinned fruit. Tropical Fruit Salad in juice. That will do nicely.

The reality was somewhat different.

As I poured the fruit over my cereal my brain tried to reboot from its reduced power standby mode. This doesn’t look right. Then the penny finally dropped just after tin was emptied. . Why was I tipping tinned baby carrots over my cornflakes.

Waste not want not. Wow that’s a taste sensation. 🥺🥺🥺🥺

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Uranium

In Food Technology today Hawklad was set the task to research how wheat is turned into flour. I was expecting this would set him off about the health aspects of bread. Maybe the additives used.

But NO.

His line of attack was – flour mills go through all those stages, make all, that effort, spend all that time. This is on top of the months of hard work performed by Mother Nature. So much effort and then a certain muppet Dad can’t even produce a half edible loaf of bread. What was the point….

Fair comment.

The other task was to forage and with parents help make some Jam. I remember the last time I tried to make Blackberry Jam. Even after two ceiling repaints I can still see the evidence. That Jam stain has a longer half life than Uranium 235. Plus Hawklad hates Jam.

Maybe we might opt out of that one. 😂😂😂😂

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 57 Comments

Beyond me

There are some problems that are beyond the human mind and there are many questions beyond the muppet dad mind. I’m not talking the deep metaphysical stuff. Not talking cosmology. I’m talking about those run of the mill problems.

How to set the timer on the microwave,

Why don’t I put a long sleeve shirt on when pulling up nettles,

Why did I pick Newcastle United to support,

Why do I keep putting clothes into the dishwasher,

Having bought at least 20 tablet pens, why can I never find just one when I need it,

Why do you only get holes in the socks that are still matching pairs,

Why does my mobile phone never hit the ground when it has its protective case on,

Where do all those batteries I buy end up hiding,

Why do I always miss my mouth while drinking hot chocolate and when I’ve got a white shirt on…..

But most perplexing of all to me is what is the best way to get into a beanbag. Remember I have a ‘not what it was’ type of body. Do I lower myself in using the adjacent furniture. Do I roll into it as if I’m a giant sausage roll. Or do I fall into it like a skydiver with a defective parachute. It’s all beyond me. Especially when I’m trying to get into the beanbag while carrying a cup of decaf coffee and an iPad. So far that has priced beyond me. I’ve even tried putting the coffee cup down next to the beanbag before trying to sit down. All that achieved was me kicking it all over the floor in the maelstrom that was my beanbag entry.

It’s all beyond me….

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Star

How bad must I be at table tennis if I managed to hit one ping pong ball out of the garden. Bearing in mind the next garden is about 5 yards behind where we had placed the table. AND there is an 8 ft hedge in the way as well..

Seriously this ball was travelling with such a trajectory that NASA gave it a spacecraft name and it had to re-enter the earths atmosphere on its way down….

“Dad, REALLY…….”

Sorry

“Dad are you going to get that ball from next doors then”

Yes I am

“I’m really worried. Some of my genes came from you”

One or two. You know who to blame if you get a hairy backside.

“Are you sure your not related to Homer Simpson….”

There is a striking resemblance. Especially from side on… Homer is way better looking and shades the intelligence

“If I ever get a DNA test it’s going to show 25% English, 15% Welsh, 10% German and 50% muppet…..”

And 0% table tennis star.

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Chef…..

Somebody is happy..l

Once a muppet always a muppet.

Thursday night is chip night here. When we moved into this little house on the hill two decades ago we quickly found out the real pace of village life. The ultimate highlight of the week here was the Thursday night visit from the mobile chip van. It parked in the road 50 yards from our house. Rapidly the tradition of Thursday Chip night was set. Eventually we even discovered that the new mad dog was also a chip monster. His favourite food.

A pandemic then happened.

Suddenly Hawklad was not comfortable with getting chips from the van. So we stopped being part of the chip social. But the tradition lived on. Now replaced with oven chips. A vegetarian pie for me and skinless sausages for Hawklad. And yes a small plate of chips for the mad one.

So last night was THURSDAY. Time to dine like royalty. Well that was the plan. If you look back a few months you will see a certain muppet falling fowl of the crime of not labelling freezer items. Guess what happened last night. No pies were available from the store so it was time to root around in the deepest recesses of the chest freezer. Success a fine looking pie. Maybe a mushroom one. Maybe a Quorn one.

Chips and a pie smothered in Tomato Ketchup, salt and vinegar. Result…..

The reality sweet cherry pie is and interesting taste sensation when combined with vinegar and ketchup. Heston Blumenthal eat your heart out….

Luckily the second pie found was a better fit…….

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It’s cooking Jim but not as we know it

Warning this post contains some disturbing baking images.

This house had an idea. Some next level pancakes….

Not content with messing up normal pancakes let’s go a stage further. Pancake sandwiches. So what filling could we go for?

Chocolate biscuits. Carefully warmed chocolate biscuits. How hard could that be.

First Try….

Erm…. As Spock would say ‘it’s a chocolate biscuit filling Jim but not as we know it’.

After a number of other shocking tries we finally produced this….

We can officially call this a warmed chocolate biscuit filled pancake sandwich.

The message here. If keep throwing punches, you might be the worst boxer ever, but eventually one will land.

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Forgetful

Do you get those moments when you realise that you have clearly lost the plot. I’ve been telling Hawklad that the school half term week off is the last week of February. It always is….

I couldn’t work out last why a few of the teachers kept talking about end of module lessons, need to get things finished this week, we start something new in a couple of weeks…. Still the obvious didn’t sink in. Not until one teacher set an ‘end of half term test’.

Ok the week off is this week. This is completely down to me. School emailed parents after Christmas with the correct dates. The school calendar is clear. Basically the muppet gauge is registering ‘off the scale’ currently with me. That might explain why I put my coffee cup into the tumble dryer with the towels. That might explain why I filled my bath with cold water. That might explain why I lost my mobile so I tried phoning it on the land line – kept getting the engaged sound and didn’t work out that I was repeatedly phoning the landline. Might explain why I couldn’t find the toothpaste and strangely found that it was in my hand all the time. Might explain why I put Deep Heat on a hand cut rather than Sudacrem.

Everyday I move further away from George Clooney and ever closer to Homer Simpson. That’s both in looks and thought.

Wish I could forget that bit.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 57 Comments

Tired

Back to dark, moody weather. Apparently it’s warmer that’s why I’m wearing a wooly hat, gloves and 38 layers….

You know your tired when you function without using your brain. You make a drink with the coffee machine but forget to put a cup in the holder. You drop a full toilet roll into the bowl. You put your shirt on inside out and back to front. You give the cat dog food and the dog gets cat food. The washing machine programme settings are several pay grades above your abilities. And you microwave a tub of mint chocolate ice cream rather than a frozen cottage pie.

Yep getting a few of those days recently.

And then I just have to raise the brain fail stakes….

Cutting hair while tired. Starting to trim without putting the No2 guard on. In fact NO guard. End result a rather fashionable shaved area. On the plus side it’s a national lockdown so no-one outside the house is going to see it for weeks. Plenty of time to grow back. And as my parents would say ‘a rider on a passing horse won’t notice..’. They would also say ‘only 2 days between a bad hair cut and a you need to comb your hair cut’ – in this case make that a few weeks…..

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 79 Comments

Sensible person

This is a fine, beautiful tree. A special tree. Any tree that is shaped by lightning strikes is special. Definitely so worth walking there. Maybe even one day a lovely picnic under its branches. One day.

It’s also a completely sensible tree. Sensible is much needed some days.

I did something silly this morning. Monumentally silly. Not sensible at all.

I forgot that the delivery man had can come yesterday and dropped a small parcel into the outside metal letter box. So I went outside to retrieve the parcel. It’s a lockable letter box. So this muppet went out with the keys in hand. A sensible person would have separated the three keys for the box by now. A sensible person would then unlock the front box door and retrieve said parcel….

A sensible person certainly wouldn’t think it was much quicker to just stick his hand in the letter slot and try to rummage around until his fingers found the parcel. A sensible person must certainly wouldn’t use a hand to do that – which was still holding the only keys for the letter box. Only a monument muppet would get his hand stuck.

The only way I could pull my hand out of the slot was to let go of the keys. The only keys.

So now my hand is free but the keys have now joined the parcel at the bottom of the box. So with no keys to now unlock the box what would the sensible person do?

Unfortunately this muppet keeps coming up with plans that involve large hammers.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 55 Comments

2022

“Dad that’s not a bad sky at all”

It’s a grand one Son.

“You always say GRAND these days”

It’s just a way of saying something is impressive. It’s a bit like you saying something is sick….

“Dad I was thinking about school. What happens if I still can’t go out during next year as well. Maybe I’m not ready to go back until 2022. What happens then?”

Well we just carry on. We’ve coped for most of this year. We just do the same next year then. Although I might have a ZZ Top beard by 2022 .

“I so want to see that.”

Make a change for you. Having a Dad who looks cool….

“That’s never happening. As you would say Dad. You are a Grand Muppet.”

You never know. One day….

“Dad is that your mobile Dad going off.”

Yes it is. A message. Oh look they have rescheduled our Ozzy concert. Was supposed to be next week but they have put it back to October 2022. Time for me to grow a proper beard.

“Dad time for me to maybe venture out again…”