We headed to the coast on NOT one of those 2 days. Brave Souls still taking on the NOT so tropical North Sea.
Huge queues for the hot drinks, no takers for the ice cream. Perfect day for a stroll along the promenade.
A good place to recharge and forget the torture of A-Level exams, now it’s a waiting game until grades get published in August. The frustration is that two years of study, come down to exams scheduled over a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks that just happened to coincide with Hawklad battling a really heavy cold and rasping chesty cough. Just how many have to sit exams when they are not feeling well. Also not helped by the dreaded exam clash. Two exams scheduled at the same time, so feeling like crap, you sit one exam, then get a few minute break and then you dive straight into a second exam. But exams are the best way to assesses ability, that’s what we are told, so it must be true.
Easter brought more rain, thankfully some Sun and a Storm. 90mph winds brought some trees, some poor folks lost their roof slates and chimneys. One household in the next village lost a large stone chimney, which crashed down conveniently perfectly between two cars parked 3 ft apart underneath. Not a scratch on either vehicle.
A common sight currently around here is Farmers walking around fields like this, checking just how wet the fields are. Like this Field, very very very WET indeed.
As one of the Farmers said to me, ‘Not Good, Way TOO WET. Over my Boots in places. Ducks have even moved into one of my Fields, I wonder if they are cheaper and easier to keep than Sheep.’
That took me back.
When I was a kid, my Dad decided to build a goldfish pond in the garden. I’m not sure Mum was entirely impressed by the eventual size of the pond, Dad had a tendency to get carried away with his plans. It was a big old pond in what was a not very big garden. Only problem was as soon as Dad had filled it with water, two ducks arrived from out of nowhere and claimed Squatters Rights. On and off, we had those ducks for weeks. These days, I would have shed loads of photos to show you those ducks but not back then. No photos, just faded memories. Thankfully I can still see those Ducks and the Pond, but only after the Farmer reminded me.
But without the aid of ever expanding data clouds filled with digital photos, I wonder just how many memories of my childhood are hidden from view. A few too many I FEAR.
Mid March and it’s still two jumper weather here in Yorkshire, definitely feeling way more like skiing rather than bikini weather. I would normally say, the kinda weather perfect for huddling round the fire however given the current price of home heating oil…. those two thick, warm, woolly jumpers will have to do.
It’s been quite a while since Hawklad hit 18, when he was officially signed off from the NHS Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service (CAMHS). As there are NO equivalent adult services here, any support he received, ENDED. His care was nominally handed over to the local Doctor service. But here’s the rub, sadly local Doctors are inundated with demands. In many parts of the country, available appointments are as rare as acts of modesty from the US Orange Nutter President.
It’s hard for local Doctors to be proactive, it’s mostly a call them service. Definitely no one has been in touch with Hawklad even to just say…
“Are you ok”
Here’s what really worries me.
So many kids like Hawklad are discharged from CAMHS and are lost in the adult health care system. The need for support doesn’t miraculously end on the 18th birthday, so what is supposed to happen next….. If they have any needs or require support they have to call the local Doctor. Firstly that usually means the dreaded 8am telephone scramble for an appointment. The record I’ve had on that one is
“You are caller number 57 in the queue….”
If you eventually do get an appointment, then mostly that will be a telephone call back by a Doctor. You get at most 7 minutes to explain what’s wrong and listen to the medical response. 7 minutes flies by, ends up feeling really rushed and pressurised.
Not exactly a welcoming experience.
Unless someone makes that call for him, Hawklad won’t. He won’t put his hand up if there is a problem. Just like at school, a large class would have a teacher and one teaching assistant. If someone needed help then you had to put your hand up and ask, support wasn’t proactive. As Hawklad used to tell me…
“I’m not putting my hand up in front of all the other kids and then announcing to the world that I can’t read something, or I’m struggling.”
School would assume if no hands go up, then everything is fine, no help needed. Hawklad ended up getting little or no in class support. The same will happen with support and the Doctor’s service. He won’t be the only one feeling this way. As a result, after becoming 18, how many miss out on the support they really need.
Other signs of Spring include Tax Demands, eye wateringly humongous Utility Bill increases, Car spectacularly failing its annual Test, Postman wearing shorts and the first adverts for Christmas 2026. If only I could say Warm Weather as well…
Another sign of Spring is the start of revision for the May exams, Hawklad is definitely not enjoying that.
As he’s revising I must admit I do have a nagging thought. Hopefully the exams go his way and open up a path that will suit him. He’s super keen on University but is aware that there are many obstacles facing him on that way forward. My nagging thought goes beyond that point. What happens after University or whatever path he takes.
What jobs might be open to him, what jobs might still exist by then. A recent headline sticks in my mind.
“1.2 million graduate applicants chasing just 17,000 jobs in the UK”
And it’s only going to get worse. A friend’s daughter graduated over a year ago and after hundreds of applications, is still unemployed. AI is taking out more and more jobs that new graduates once started out in. Plus Graduates are saddled with huge student loans and when they do find a job, they then have the unnerving prospect of trying to find somewhere they can afford to rent or buy. Parents try to help out but here’s the trap. To help out financially parents face the prospect of working well beyond retirement age to fund this but by doing that, it means probably even less jobs available for young people.
I can’t help worry about the future for Hawklad. What career paths might be open to him, what might suit him and then just how many or few opportunities will there be for him.
It’s not always a particularly hopeful thought process.
It’s become a Christmas tradition for us, a trip to see the Lights at Doncaster Wildlife Park. Takes about an hour to walk around and it’s so worth it. Definitely starts to get us into the Christmas spirit. The odd thing is that although the music and the atmosphere is very festive, the actual lights are mostly NOT. But it definitely works
Need to keep remembering what a staggeringly wonderful world this can be.
The Government has started a formal review into the rising demand for ADHD, Autism and Mental Health services. But here’s the problem about that….
It’s the starting point for the review.
Setting up the review The Government has already stated what they see as being the key problem, ‘way too much over diagnosis’. Is this political opinion based on clinical or finance advice. Is it centred on a concern for individual welfare… sadly NO. The starting point isn’t about the families who can’t access the help and support they need, its not trying to help those struggling because they can’t access help, it’s definitely not about expanding and extending services . Rather it’s about a budget line on a spreadsheet which the Government wants to make much smaller. It’s about saving money. You can see what the end goal is….. Cutting the Special Education Budget by reducing which children can access services, cutting benefits paid to adults and reducing NHS services in these areas. THEN the Government will try to come up with a PR campaign to make it sound like it’s anything other than a budget cut. But it WILL be a budget cut probably dressed up as ‘helping’ those written off’. ‘Too many’ will be said to have been ‘written off’ by Doctors when they diagnose patients with ADHD and AUTISM, ‘allowing ’ too many education, benefit and support claims. And thus the Government will say that the best, and kindest way to help children and adults will be to just cut their benefits and services, ‘encourage’ them and families to help themselves. Remove more tailored education support and force more adults back into work regardless of their fitness to work. The last Government tried to do this, sadly this Government looks like they might do it this time.
Where are all these thousands of additional ADHD and Autism friendly jobs…..
What happens to the children who can’t access the Special Educational Services they need, have Teachers the training and spare capacity to pick up the pieces…..
Who’s best placed to make a clinical diagnosis, a Doctor or a Politician…..
A trip out to the beautiful Lake District, a three hour drive from us. Carefully chosen to be a safe, uneventful, Hawklad adventure.
Originally we had planned to park up by Lake Ullswater, well that was the plan. We made it to within a couple of miles of our parking spot and we hit road works. The road was closed and we were sent on a signed magical mystery diversion tour. This part of the world there aren’t ever too many alternative road options. We later found out that this diversion was over 50 miles long and given the windy, narrow roads, would have taken absolutely ages to drive. Thankfully the diversion went past another stunning lake, Thirlmere and we parked up.
You can see why Wordsworth was inspired to write here.
The trip back was an adventure…
A motorway tyre blow out driving at 70mph, two hours stood on a roadside bank waiting for a recovery truck. That wasn’t the place to try and change a tyre. Thankfully a very nice Highway Patrol parked behind our car to ward off any collisions.
Here’s the thing, Hawklad was perfectly fine with the breakdown but really struggled when first the Highway Patrol Officer turned up and then the Recovery Mechanic. It’s the fear that he could be seen, will stand out, will get noticed. Thankfully the tyre was safely changed and off we set again.
Another reminder that as much as you try to plan or micromanage a day, life still happens….
This is one of our favourite walks, just so very peaceful. It’s a great place to find that stillness we all need sometimes.
Mostly peaceful.
A family meet-up here a few years back. A beautiful family get together, all apart from a wasp sting, one twisted ankle and my only case of fleas….. A friendly squirrel interested in being hand fed some carrots and grapes. We shared our food, he shared his fleas…..
Most Hallowe’ens we have a night trip here, it’s a great place to tell slightly lame scary tales. Completely pitch black, silence punctuated by the occasional owl hooting and unseen creatures moving in the undergrowth, probably covered in fleas. Torch Beams crossing paths with the ornate wood sculptures definitely give seriously good jump scares.
At night these sculptures genuinely do seem alive, almost like they move, expressions change.
Another grey Yorkshire day, just a bit stuck under this blanket of greyness. It’s also still very green for this time in Autumn, usually it’s way more yellow and red. Definitely feels like it’s been a longer growing season here. We also still have a handful of Swallows still hanging around, these fellows are usually back in Africa by now. They clearly are not hanging around because of the sun…. Maybe they are just putting off trying to get through the chaos and queues that is UK Passport Control these days. One of my neighbours foolishly tried and failed to get out of the country a couple of weeks ago to go on holiday. Apparently she didn’t look sufficiently like her passport photo anymore. In her words “you try looking like you did 5 years ago when you hit 84…”
Made me check my passport photo. I’m ok, still looks like me, still looks like Shrek.
I remember going to a fancy dress themed party years ago at University. Themed around cartoon characters. I went as Fred from Scooby Doo, back then I could rock an orange ascot….. A friend of mine put in way more effort to go as Shrek. He was mortified when the first couple of people thought he had come as Alfred Hitchcock.
Hitchcock was famed for talking about “always make the audience suffer as much a possible”. My so called football team have clearly been following that principle for decades now….
Another thing Hitchcock talked about was ‘DRAMA is life with the dull bits cut out’. I always think you could take out DRAMA and substitute that with SINGLE PARENTING. I’ve had a few people tell me they were sorry I was a single parent. Don’t get me wrong, it happened for tragic reasons, but actually being a single parent is such a wonderful privilege and experience. Being a parent has been the best experience and it feels like because of circumstances I got the chance to get just a bit more of that wonderful experience. It has been a wonderful experience.
I have a confession, a secret deep inside that haunts me. Something deeply embarrassing and just rather sad. Yes I’m an ACCOUNTANT. A pretty bad one, but still a BEAN COUNTER. I have no idea how I managed to first qualify and then subsequently fool several employers with financial skills that never really progressed much past counting the fingers on one hand, even that would need to be an estimate. I’m one of those FINANCIAL WIZARDS who as quickly as possible moves the conversation away from those problematic and eternally perplexing numbers.
But recently there is some mathematics that I can’t seem to move on from.
I don’t know why it popped into my mind suddenly, but it did and now it’s THERE….
Hawklad’s Mum who passed away in 2016 has now missed well over half of his life. She missed out on well over half of his childhood. I just find that thought so deeply sad and tragic. Definitely for Hawklad, I so wish no child had to ever go through that trauma. But also for his poor Mum, she has missed out on so much, so many experiences, so many years. Too many years, I do keep hearing a variant of that sad Clapton song in my head, would she even recognise him now.
A Dad trying to cope with the loss of his Partner and becoming a single parent. 